Siblings

I have a big family. I have 2 brothers and 2 sisters. There is me (technically the oldest), my twin brother C, my middle sister B, my little brother W, and my littlest sister M. My siblings are one of the reasons I want a large family. (failing miserably at that at the moment, but that's another post for another time). My siblings are some of my best friends, and being the oldest, I am very much the caretaker... the whole birth-order psychology seems to be exaggerated in my family. I am fiercely protective of them, particularly my two youngest siblings, and do not take kindly to anyone being mean to them, bullying them, or hurting their feelings, no matter how much I might pick on them:-). After some stressful circumstances over the weekend, I got to thinking about how different we all are, particularly the three adults. My two youngest siblings are still in high school, so as much as I think they are the smartest, coolest, funniest, sweetest, most interesting and adorable people ever, I didn't include them in my observations. So, to demonstrate the differences between me and my two adult siblings, here is a list of various situations, and a description of how each of us would respond.

1. You lose your job.

Me- I will proof read your resume, help you scour the want ads, and help you think through possible interview questions.

C- He will commiserate with you on how awful your old boss was, how you didn't make enough money anyway, and how much getting  fired "sucks, man". Then he will let you beat him in Halo just to make you feel better.

B- She will bake you 'Sorry You Got Fired' cupcakes, and then she will give you the name and number of the friend of a friend she met last weekend whose brother's neighbor owns a company that is specifically looking for someone just like you... then she will take you shopping for a new, perfect interview outfit.

2. You get dumped.

Me- I will tell you I'm sorry, then spend the evening making you laugh with sarcastic commentary on the things I didn't like about your ex anyway.

C- He will take you to Hooters, buy you a drink, and introduce you to either his cute, lonely coworker, or the one Hooters girl that doesn't flirt with him... then he'll tell you the horror story of his roommate's awful breakup, including the conspiracy theory on what happened to his roommate's puppy... just to make you
feel better.

B- She will make you break-up cookies, and threaten to have her 'acquaintance' in the bad part of town go key your ex's truck.She will then put together a Friends-worthy relationship-cleansing-ritual evening complete with bonfire of useless cards and gifts, and knowing her, ending with cute fireman after said bonfire gets
out of hand.


3. You are in the hospital.

Me- I will come sit with you... conversation optional. I will go track down your nurse when you need something. I will make inappropriate, but hilarious, jokes about your condition that youcan't help but laugh at. I will rub your feet, but will hate it, because I hate feet...but I'll do it anyway because it needs to be
done.

C- He will come see you, and score extra pudding cups by flirting with your hot nurse. He will bring you his favorite movie to watch, just to make you feel better.

B- She will be your hookup for any contraband that isn't allowed in your room... cigarettes, Red Bull, your dog... it doesn't matter, she will find a way to sneak it in. She will bring you your favorite lunch, and will sneak you soda before surgery. She will score you a better room because she had a history class for half a semester with the girlfriend of the son of some hospital administrator. She will call out anyone that is anything but attentive and sensitive to your needs.


4. Your pet dies.

Me- I will tell you I'm very sorry, because I know that pets are like family. I will give you suggestions on excellent rescue programs should you choose to get another pet. I will offer you theservices of a certain hateful housecat to ease the blow.

C- He will sympathize, tell you about every pet he's ever lost, and encourage you to talk about how good your pet was, just to make you feel better.

B- She will bring you soup, a commemorative plush toy, and will help you write the eulogy. She will offer suggestions on pet crematoria, or buy you a flower to plant over the gravesite if you choose to bury your pet's remains. She will present you with a bronzed collar engraved with your pet's name, and for Christmas
that year, will present you with a certificate for the star that she named in your pet's honor.

My siblings... I love them. And their quirkiness. In a lot of ways, I wish was more like them... they are excellent people, and I'm glad I belong to them:-)

Lazy Cat

I spend a lot of time talking about the puppies. I realized that I have not devoted equal time to the feline. Like I've said before, the kitten was a surprise gift from my husband one day a couple of years ago when I was feeling more than a little sorry for myself, and he felt I needed something to nurture. The problem is, the feline wants nothing to do with me. She hates my guts. She will barely let me near her. However, she loves Sugarbear. She sleeps at his feet, sits in his lap, and tries to groom his head. I reach to pet her, and she runs away, if she doesn't flat out bite me.

That really doesn't have much to do with this post... the point is that she lives a plush life befitting any cat... she gets the best food, lots of attention from Sugarbear, plays when she wants, sleeps when she wants... so I spent a lot of time picking out a toy that she would like, that would endear her to me... and what does she do?

She doesn't even bother to get up to play with it.

This is not a political post...

Disclaimer: I do not mean the following to be any kind of political statement. it is strictly for humorous value. I do not fully agree with either major party, and am pretty moderate in most of my views. I respect the President, as he is the leader of our great country... the Nobel prize committee... not so much...

The following are things that went through my head on learning that President Obama had won this year's Nobel peace prize...as promised to Mama Bonk-Chonk.

- I am sceptical that 3 years of being on the national political scene can qualify someone to be President... but hey, if the Nobel committee thinks that 12 days of being on the international scene can qualify someone for a Nobel peace prize, then apparently I was wrong.

- Last year's winner was honored for work over three decades to resolve international conflicts on several continents... this year's winner was honored for work over 12 days to attend multiple inaugural balls and press conferences... at this rate, I expect a call from the Nobel committee any day now for the 15 minutes I spent yesterday reading about the Afghan war...

-Using the Nobel committee’s selection process, I should get employee of the year for giving my boss a list of the things that I want to accomplish over the next four years… it doesn’t matter if I actually accomplish anything, just that I am able to turn a phrase while making my to-do-list.

- I’m trying to figure out if it was the “Can We Do It, Yes We Can” or the “Fired Up, Ready To Go” cheer that the Nobel committee identified as having the most impact on world peace.

-Maybe the Nobel committee is on to something... how would it have changed the world if Nelson Mandela was given the Nobel peace prize when he was just PLANNING on being an anti-apartheid activist…

-Mahatma Gandhi never won a Nobel peace prize… freakin’ Gandhi…

-Alfred Nobel’s will stated that the peace prize go to someone who has done “the most or the best work for fraternity among nations, for the abolition or reduction of standing armies, and for the holding and promotion of peace congresses.” Well, surely the Beer Summit qualifies for two out of the three…

-Bono, with all of his philanthropic work, has done more to deserve a Nobel peace prize than President Obama…recording Sunday Bloody Sunday for instance …

Food Bowl? What Food Bowl?

This is my weinie dog.



This is my Chica dog.




THIS is the post about Ginger disemboweling her toys.

So, what does Chica do, you ask? Chica dog is dilligent about hiding her food bowl so that no pesky feline or Dachshund can steal her food. (Don't get me wrong, the Dachshund is by no means wasting away... she's quite robust.) How does she hide the food?

By covering it of course.

What does she cover it with? Anything she can find on the floor. We will pour food in the bowl, and a few minutes later, will hear Chica rooting around in the bowl, covering it up. We hear this sound in the middle of the night when she gets up to eat too... she can't put her toys away after playing, but she can re-cover her food after eating... go figure. If someone, or some other animal, approaches her food dish after covering, Chica will get up and stand guard until the danger passes. If I uncover the food so the Dachshund can eat, it's only a matter of time before Chica covers it again. Here are some examples of her handy work.

Disemboweled toy scraps.


A pillow case. (I was doing laundry, and had stripped the bed, putting the sheets in a pile to wash.)


A dress I had failed to put in the hamper. (shocking, I know.) And a toy scrap.


Sugarbear's socks. It's funny how she uses both socks.


Socks/toy combo.

She uses anything that is handy... her blankets, towels. Fluff from toys. Scraps of paper. She will spend forever making sure it is covered just right.

I don't have the heart to tell her that we all know where the food bowl is... Dachshund included.

Pianos and Pom-Poms

I remember taking piano lessons when I was a kid. I always had a good ear for music, and generally did well. I did not have very many distinguishing skills as a child, so the predictability of piano was good for me. I practiced, I excelled. My brother played football, my sister was a cheerleader, I did not really have a lot of choice but to join in as another cheerleader. At this, I did not excel.

Most things in life are like piano lesson... the harder you work, the more successful you are. The harder you study, the better your grades. The more you prepare for your presentation at work, the better job you do.... I could go on and on. You have control over your success. I started thinking about things that don't work this way. Cheer leading for me. No matter how many practices I attended, or how much I desired to fit in with the other girls, I never quite cut it. Illness. If you are diagnosed with a disease, no matter how well you follow a treatment plan, your outcome is not guaranteed. The most routine of procedures or treatments can have complications.

Infertility is in this category. My thought process in general has totally changed since we began treatment. Offspring and my lack thereof is never far from my mind... it is constantly in the back of my head, just waiting for a lull in my train of thought, or for a little girl in a monogrammed sundress to walk by. The kicker is, no matter how much I want it, no matter how much or long I try to achieve it, success is not guaranteed. We can practice and work hard... We can do every fertility treatment under the sun, we can pray and meditate on this elusive blessing 24/7... but we may never conceive. I have no control.

So, as much as I want the sure success of the piano keys under my fingers, in reality, I may always be the ungainly, ungraceful, chubby cheerleader in the back row...