Except...it's snow

Flakes the size of quarters.  I'm not April's foolin' you early either.

Okay, maybe a little bit of an exaggeration, but not much.  Really. ;)

*Picture just for illustration purposes, different snow, different day. Full disclosure.

Sunshine after the rain

I am posting something today that is a little different, a little bit down.  It's reality though, and I am not so self-involved to think for a second that I am alone when these feelings strike, though we can all feel that way from time to time.  Regardless, read at your own risk. ;)

I am happy to report I am feeling much more sunshine and rainbows about life lately.  I had hit a funk, and thankfully, I have an awesome hubby who, despite his own sleep-deprived challenges these days, helped walk me through that funk and back out the other side.  I just hope I have been able to do the same for him on his less-than-stellar days.  We should all be so lucky, right?!  

I'll share a pic or two to make it worth the visit today. ;)

Bugga and Papa sharing a drink of water. =)  And then sharing a smooch.

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Failure.  What a word.

Well, FAILBlog has been giving me some good chuckles lately, my new favorite for oft-innapropriate humor.  (Seriously, warning, some may find the humor in FAILBlog offensive; please refrain from judgment of what tickles my funny bone, thank you!)

And being involved in rescue, the term "foster failure" is one I know well.  Though, in reality, it isn't such a bad thing and I really think a new term needs to be coined for making a foster pet a member of your family permanently.

Back to the point:  failure.  It is term that keeps bouncing around in my head in recent days.  I debated internally for some time about whether or not to post any of this because really, no one likes a negative nellie.  But the fact remains, I've just been feeling like a failure lately.

Bugga is rapidly approaching his second birthday and for some reason, I am gripped with fear over whether or not he is "normal."  Why?  That is a great question.  Somehow, before now, I never really fretted over it.  I was never that uber-competitve Mom, comparing my child to other children, counting all the ways he was "advanced," or pushing him to do this thing or that just so I could say "hey, my baby {sat} or {walked} or {said "watermelon"}.  Not that I haven't thought my child is amazing and wonderful and everything most every parent thinks about their child. ;)  The knowledge that there is GREAT variation in how each individual develops kept worries at bay, and helped me to circumvent the need to play that game, the "my baby is better" game.

So now that he is almost 2, all that worry that I pushed aside and thought I had successfully avoided has suddenly chased me down, tackled me to the ground, and is biting my hind end ferociously.  There's an image, eh?!  

I still don't the know the why of it all.  All I know is that I can't stop wondering if I should be drilling things into my young son's brain--like colors, the alphabet, numbers, world geography, mechanical engineering, and maybe a little abnormal psych thrown in for good measure (okay, that last one I may just be able to provide his own personal case study...oy)--or if I should be letting his own natural curiosity soar and guide what he is learning for now.  My heart screams for the latter, but that outside pressure and internal war lead me toward the former. ={  Yet, when I try that, the "drilling," I end up in situations like yesterday, when I was trying to go over an alphabet book with him and every letter was "d," because he just really wanted to explore "d" at that moment.  Hmmm...maybe he was hinting at the whole "drilling" idea.  Never thought of it that way...

Why all the fuss?  And why NOW?  I wish I knew.  Bugga will be 2 years old soon.  Instead of being thankful for every moment with him, his good health, his every ability, skill, and trait that I adore, I am worrying over any possible way I may have failed him to this point.  What a waste!  And believe me, I know it, but it is gripping at the moment, despite my efforts to shake it.

Compounding all that fun, J is in the midst of 6 weeks of 12-hour shifts at work.  Olive, our current foster, is young, drive-y, and generally dislikes her crate, making any attempt at dog-free and child-free "quiet time" an utter joke.  Paisley is my good girl, keeping me sane in so many ways.  So I trudge on, attempting to see the bright side through the haze.  I know it's there, maybe if I squint....hmmm, not today.  Maybe when I wake up tomorrow.  We'll see.

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As I previously reported, I'm feeling much better.  Whew. ;)  It really was my own attitude that was tripping me up.  Don't you just hate it when that happens?  I'm back to being pleasantly entertained when Grady says every lego is "geeen" and all the numbers are 2.  It's alright.  I know from my interactions with him that he is just fine, that he understands so, so much and that what he "knows" now will not define his future.  

Annnyway.  Hmmm, what else?  Little Miss Olive looks to be competing with Timon for the title of "shortest-term foster dog."  She's been here 2 weeks, and she has 2 pretty great homes vying for her family member status, so she will probably be leaving us soon.  We feel so blessed to have had her with us, for any amount of time though!  

Of all our fosters, she is the most like our own Paisley girl. Not in looks of course, but in personality, in abilities, and also in challenges. ;) Even with her short stay, we have fallen quite hard for this little gal. I know, same story, 7th verse now, right?! We're already lining up our next foster too, so you'll get to hear the 8th verse as well. Lucky you! =)

Wordless Wednesday

{More from the hanging-dangerously-out-of-the-window series}

Okay, not quite wordless, but if you know, you know that's not quite possible. ;)

Just can't keep up...

Oh for goodness sakes, I'm so behind on things I'd like to blog at this point, that I'm not sure I can catch up.  That is when I usually just go for a mammoth, and often rambling, post with little direction or resolution.  Yup, that sounds like the plan, just not today.

Jeremy has entered the realm of 12-hour days, thankfully just 5 days a week and not the 6 days originally called for when the discussion began a few months back.  This will carry on for about 6 weeks.  Right through the Bugga man's big bad 2nd birthday.  Good thing we don't have anything spectacular planned, as we'll probably be lucky if J can keep his eyes open by that point. ;)

On top of that delightful-ness, we have a new foster doggie.  And...hmmm...what to say?!  Let's just say, she has evoked one of my favorite sayings many a time already:  sometimes the most challenging things in life are the most rewarding.  ;)  Her name is Olive.  She is beautiful.  I imagine you'll be seeing more of her, that is, if she lasts (there is an application in on her right now!).  We are not her first foster home, she has been with ARLP for a little over 2 months and we are actually her 3rd stop (4th, if you count a less than 2 day stop at a temporary foster home).

Hopefully I will return with updates on the following:

* Hambone's wonderful visit (formerly Timon-Moanie)

* Our reunion with great pals the Stewart family!!!

* Bugga's fear of change (warning:  sad picture, poor Buggie)

Maybe at night, when J is snoring by a little after 8p, often involuntarily, I can blog....it's a thought.  Of course, that assumes nothing else needs to be done.  HAHAHA, that hasn't kept me from blogging before. ;)  Check you all later! =)

A good day

Awww, just felt the need to share some Wednesday good-ness.

Coffee on our trusty chemex...manual drip baby, seriously the best coffee.

Fresh snow from yesterday's storm.  Pretty! =)

The Bugga playing with a zipper.

Hammer, formerly foster dog extraordinaire Timon, is visiting for the week.  {Believe me, I'll be back with pictures, because you would NOT believe the squish-a-muffin he has turned out to be!}

AND last, but certainly not least, our good friends the Stewart family are leaving the sunshine of AZ to come visit the snow of MN tomorrow and we are so excited!!!  

Stewarts left NY just a few short months before we moved away and we haven't seen each other since.  Okay, so that only amounts to about a year and half, but that is certainly long enough to be ready to sit down with some good dessert and laugh it up for a few nights, which is exactly what we have planned.  Go figure. ;)

Here's hoping Wednesday is finding you all steeped in some kind of goodness too.  =)

What Momma don't know...

...won't hurt her.  In theory.

That is, unless you take pictures and leave them for Momma to find. ;)

Don't forget the action shot.

So there went any attempts on my part to teach Bugga that his truck stays on the ground.  And NOT on the lounger, the chair, on the table, ON the dogs, ON the cats, ON Momma.  Oh well.  =)

Hide your breakables!

It has happened once again.  Another dish, broken.  Nay...shattered.  Somehow, I can't go a week without breaking a dish.  Really.  All our dishes shiver and quake in anticipation, always wondering "is it my time?"  I reach into the cabinet and I literally hear them all suck in their (admittedly nonexistent) breath, waiting, watching.

And so I've also come to the conclusion that my toddler's propensity for spilling his water and flying head over feet during normal daily activities is at least partly genetic, and not wholly "typical toddler," as I may like to believe.

Before Bug was born, I would have said any genetic tendency toward the awkward and clumsy would come from J.  No offense meant there really...but who among the two of us put an axe in his foot?  And who among the two of us could barely eat a meal--particularly a potentially long-term stain-inducing meal--without spilling any or all of it on himself or the furniture?  That would be my husband, on both counts.

But then Bugga came.  Who cared who spilled anymore...the house was a wreck anyway, right?!  ;)  Just recently though, it has become painfully clear that I am the walking disaster of the household.  Dishes seem to be my main victims of late.  But the downstairs couch and carpet remember fondly a thorough soaking in red wine by yours truly not so long ago.  (If ever there was a reason not to imbibe, huh?!)

Today, it was a freshly rewarmed plate of breakfast pizza leftovers.  For all I know, I ingested tiny fragments of glass because I am not one to waste food...especially food that was essentially ready to be eaten. ;)  And Bug learns, once again, that "there are certain messes Momma and Papa have to clean up, honey..." *sigh*

No current photo evidence of my plights, though I do have a couple to share of Bugga and his newest, old toy.  Hmmm...surprising the camera has yet to fall victim to my lack of coordination or control. ;)  Get it?!  "Fall" victim...okay, sorry.  Moving on...

Can you believe this tattered little bunny is from my childhood?  

And it even still "sang."  =)  Til day 2 of its journey into Bugga's childhood, that is.  Oh well, it's still cute and he still loves to carry bunny around.

Yes, Bugga got a haircut this weekend. Likewise, I know it looks awful crooked up front there. It will grow though. ;) A little crooked never hurt anyone. Okay, that may not be true, but in this instance, I'm sticking with it.

So, I wonder if there is a background of shattered glass and spilled food out there for the blog.  It might better represent the real me, after all. ;)