Bye Bye Blogger

Just a quickie to say that I've moved the blog over to WordPress:

http://abonnemation.wordpress.com/

Fish

We found an awesome babysitter, Ashley, for our time in Arizona, and yesterday she watched the girls when we went out for dinner. Before we left, I made them some spaghetti with red sauce, which Ashley served up as we were getting ready to go.

I didn't witness the conversation, but apparently this is what went down...

(The girls are sitting at the table waiting. Ashley gives them each a bowl of pasta.)

Ava: I hate fish!

Ashley: That's not fish. It's noodles.

Ava: NO FISH!!!!!

(Ashley makes her chicken nuggets.)

Desert Creatures

We took the girls into Carefree in search of ice cream. As we were driving...

Me: Isn't the desert sunset beautiful?

Sophie: Yeah!

Ava: We in the desert?

Me: Yes. This is the desert.

Ava: Where the camels?

Me: Well there are other deserts and camels live in those.

Sophie: Ava...camels only live in this desert in the summer time and summer's a long way away.

Duh.

They may not have camels here, but they do have javalinas...

Day 4

It's been four days since we put Hazel to sleep. I can't even write the words without getting weepy, but life goes on.

Anyway, here are some choice moments from the last 4 days...

Friday
I volunteered at Sophie's school and drove her home afterward...

Me: Sweetie, I want to remind you about Hazel.

Sophie: Is she dead yet?

Me: Yes. We put her to sleep yesterday.

Sophie: Hmmm...no wonder I didn't see her.


Saturday
Sophie, Ava and I are in the car on the way to Barnes & Noble.

Sophie: Let's play the name calling game!

Me: I don't like name calling.

Sophie: No...just funny names...

Me: Okay. You go first.

Sophie: You're a slimy limey!

[Ava laughs.]

Me: You're a dinky stinky.

[Ava laughs.]

Sophie: You're a [fill in the blank with nonsense words]!

[Ava laughs.]

Me: You're a schnitzel.


[Ava laughs.]

Sophie: You're a bitchel!

I know, but I'm so much better than I used to be.


Sunday Morning
Sophie has just pooped on the potty.

Sophie: Mom!  I pooped two big round balls!

Me: Great.  I bet you feel better. [She had been complaining about her tummy.]

Sophie: I do...want to know how I did that?

[This is one of those times when I'm not really sure of what's coming next, but it's easier just to go along.]

Me: Sure.

Sophie: Well, I just closed my privates really hard to break it in half.  That's how I made two balls.

Good to know.


Sunday Afternoon
We're in Arizona for a week or so for spring break and it's lovely—a perfectly-timed escape. We're staying in a house with a splash pool in the back yard, and the girls were in it all day long. Naturally, Ava pooped in the pool. She was in a swim diaper, but didn't tell us and by the time we discovered it, she had brewed some nice poop tea.

We evacuated for a while to let the pool filter itself and during that time, our friends Eric and Mike came for a visit. When it was time to go back, we made Ava wear her other swim suit because we wanted to wash the swim shirt she'd been wearing during the incident.

Ava: MAMA!!!!!  WHERE MY SWIM SUIT!!!!

Me: It's in the bag by the door.

Ava: (to Eric and Mike) I poop in my shirt.

Mike: You pooped in your shirt?

Ava: Yes (sounds like "yesh"). I poop in my shirt.

Me: I don't think so. You pooped in your swim diaper.

Ava: I fink so!  I POOP IN MY SHIRT!!!!

Technically, she's right. She pooped...while she was in her shirt.

Farewell, Sweet Hazel

In the beginning

Today is Hazel's last day on earth.  It's been a shitty two weeks or so of trying to figure out what was wrong (kidney trouble), trying to fix it (with medicines and IV fluids) and, finally, trying to make her last days good ones (lots of chicken nuggets and bacon).

Alas, it's time. At 5 o'clock, we're putting Hazel to sleep. Her vet is going to come to our house and do it, which is very kind of her.

When I anticipated this day, I thought I'd be okay with it. In my head, it was the kids who would be sad. Oh man, was I wrong. I'm so sad I can hardly stand it. I know we've had a really good run with her—14 years is a long time—but at the same time, 14 years is a long time, and I can't imagine her not being around.

In the time that I've had Hazel I...

• Ended a long-term relationship, dated some douche bags and then met and married my husband
• Lived in 4 different states
• Bought my first, and second, house
• Held, and quit, a life-changing job
• Started two businesses
• Turned 30 and (almost) 40
• Had 2 children

She's been awesome, and sometimes wonderfully evil, and I'm really sad to see her go. To honor her I'm going to record a few of my favorite Hazel memories. There are tons—Hazel humping Mort (the cat), Hazel's amazing jail breaks, Hazel biting our client—but these are my favorites...

Hazel and the Doritos
I got Hazel in the summer of 1997 when I was working at Camp Thunderbird in northern Minnesota. At the end of the summer, I had to drive back to Kansas City with her in tow. I love junk food, and at one point in the drive, we stopped and I picked up a bag of Doritos and a Hostess pie. Not long after that, we stopped for lunch.

When we got back to the car, all that was left was the Doritos bag. The snacks were gone and Hazel was a living mural of road food. She had Dorito cheese all over her muzzle and a very little bit of pie goo on her ear (she had eaten the wrapper too). 

And so it began...


Hazel and the Running Tights
I go through phases of being a runner. The first one happened at the end of 1997. I was living in a total shithouse in Portland and I used to throw my running tights on the floor and wear them a second time (because I was foul).

On one of those "second time" runs, I noticed how fresh and delightful the day felt—particularly around my nether regions.  'See,' I thought. 'The weather's not so bad in the Northwest!' and I finished my run.

I got home and discovered that Hazel had eaten the crotch out of my tights.


Hazel and the Chocolate Bar
Sometimes, when you're a sad, single girl, you eat chocolate in your bed. On one of those times, I made the mistake of leaving my special chocolate on my nightstand while I went to the bathroom. When I came back, it was gone—wrapper and all. I considered taking Hazel to the vet since dogs can't eat chocolate, but she was sleeping peacefully, so I didn't.

In the middle of the night I was woken up by an epic dog burp. Hazel looked up from the end of the bed, licked her chops and groaned, as if to say, "Oy...I love chocolate, but it doesn't love me..." Then she went back to sleep.

Farewell, Sweet Hazel!

Acceptance, Rejection & the Shittlebury Cake

On Sunday, we went over to my cousin's house for dinner. We love them, but this visit was tinged with sadness because my niece (2nd cousin? cousin once removed?) had just gotten a rejection letter from Middlebury, her first choice. I have many nieces and nephews in the college application age bracket, so normally I'd chalk it up to competition and move on. But this Middlebury thing got my knickers in a knot.

My niece, Ally, is that rare person who is super smart, talented, charitable and wonderfully cynical. (So you don't have to loathe her.) She asked me to edit her college essays and one of them literally brought me to tears (KC got misty too). She got a full ride to St. Lawrence.  The YMCA gave her an award for being kickass.

So my question is this: if Middlebury didn't accept Ally, who got in? I can only imagine the collection of do-gooder-prima-ballerina-found-a-cure-for-cancer-on-the-side-half-cherokee-tight-assed pollyannas that will make up the Freshman class. I knew one person who went to Middlebury when I was in college, and she was a lock-jawed, vanilla, anally impaled by large stick biznatch. Good riddance, I say!

Anyway, I was responsible for bringing dessert. To show my solidarity, I baked the Shittlebury Cake...

Sooooooo tasty.

When Sophie Grows Up

Today, when I picked her up from school, Sophie told me that she wants to be a "firegirl" when she grows up...

Me: You do? Because you want to fight fires?

Sophie: Because I like fire hats and I like to wear red...and sirens don't annoy me.

She does look good in red.