Tiny Rocks Between Your Toes

Footnote: When I say "beach" in this post I mean the nearby lake filled with tractors and a few pairs of my mom's sunglasses on the bottom along with a pile of coarse sand dumped in a central location for our amusement. This place is fun for us because it has a GINORMOUS playground (made out of dark blue plastic that'll take your skin off if its over 90 outside).

Anyway...

As soon as the weather is over 85 we make a beeline for the beach.  Our beach here doesn't have powdery fine sand.  Its more like big grains or tiny rocks, if you will.  (I like saying if you will.  It makes me feel intelligent and courteous.)

Maven has a heightened sense of falling, which is probably directly correlated to amount of times the other two have dropped her.  :/
So, she isn't too sure about the instability of sand.  She doesn't like how it moves and wobbles below the two tiny objects (feet) on which her entire body's safety is relying. 

The big kids aren't perfectionist like Maven, so they're okay with getting dirty. 
And staying that way. 
Seriously, they'd never shower if I didn't spray them with the hose every once in a while.

Just kidding. 
I'd never do that. 
*wink

A Story about Four Puppies

On Christmas, we got the kids the world's cutest puppy.
Seriously.
Ryan doesn't even care much for animals, but he looooved this little guy.
Tank.
(Because he was small and needed a BIG name)
He was EXTREMELY tiny and was only expected to grow to 2 pounds.

He got sick.  Very sick.  And we spent over $1000 trying to heal him.  They think that one of the reasons he was so small was because he was sick.  They called and told us that he was better, but they were going to do a blood transfusion to bring up his red blood cell count.  Before they could even do the transfusion, he passed.  I cried and cried thinking of how I'd tell the kids.
Christian was heartbroken.
Ryan buried Tank in the backyard and Christian spent the next two days standing at the backdoor staring.  That broke my heart.

So, I Googled and Googled to find another small, but not as small, chihuahua.  Someone had one here in Mansfield.  We went to look at her and Christian loved her. 
I thought she'd fix his heart. 
Perri .
(because she was bubbly like Perrier water)

One day, he was playing with her, she got him on his lip with her needle-like baby teeth.  Out of reflexes, he pushed her away.  She bumped the top of her head on his wooden bed.  (Chihuahuas have a soft spot)  Christian ran out of his room with Perri in his arms.  She was yelping, but I couldn't see any damage.  Then she started seizing.  I called Ryan and told him to hurry home. 
I asked Christian to tell me the whole story.  He told me what had happened.
I gave her sugar water, called the breeder, called the vet, checked on Ryan's location... everything I could do.  The girls were sleeping and I knew by the time I woke them up and got them in the car, it'd be too late.  Ryan was our only option.
He took her to the animal hospital, but she didn't make it.
We burried her next to Tank.
Christian was not okay.
Soooo not okay.
He told me that he had put his healing hands on her. (He puts his hands on my forehead when I have a headache in an effort to make me feel better.  He does the same for my mom's stomach.  We always tell him how much it helps.)  "Why didn't my hands work this time?  I tried so hard!"  Then he went on to tell me that he gave Perri his breath... meaning, he gave her mouth-to-mouth.
Then... he told me... he wished he could die so he could go to Heaven and see the puppies.  He begged me to let him die.
I talked to him.  My mom talked to him.  Her words were just what he needed to hear.  She could relate.  She had lost two of her "children" dogs in a short time apart from each other, both not long ago.  I looked up how to deal with grief and anxiety in children.  I found some herbal remedies that really seemed to help.  Talking seemed to help a lot, too.
He started talking about dying again. So, I Googled and Googled to find another small dog... not necessarily a chihuahua. 
I found an adorable pomeranian.
Graham.
Like Teddy Graham, because she looks like a teddy bear.

And I got another chihuahua.
Rig.
Again with the big name for a small pup.  And because we are an oil and gas family.

 

Although we all really do still miss Tank and Perri... a lot... these pups are a great fit for our family.  They are so laid-back.  The kids cart them around like they're toys.  Tay pushes them in her babydoll stroller or toy grocery cart and they just sit there as happy as can be.  They don't run off.  If they happen to get out, they come around front and scratch at the door until I let them back in.  They don't bark unless its at another dog that they're chasing through the fence.  We hit a rough patch with Graham for the first 4 months - she was so hyper!  But, she has calmed down A LOT.

(Yes, this post is old.  But, I had to let the emotions of it all die down a little and I had to make sure these guys were a permanent part of our family.  It was a pretty traumatic set of events for all of us.) 

 

Mini Maids

We breed assistants around here.
Momma dun good teachin'.
I lounge on the couch in true house/trophy-wife fashion as the littles earn their keep.  Cuz that is what I do all day... lounge... and relax.
I almost never have to pick boogers of the wall, wipe poop off of hineys, slave over a hot stove, or anything involving strenuous labor.
.... and then I woke up.

This one started out as a chore, but ended up as entertainment:

 

This was the kids' idea.  They said "Mom, let us do it!  You always work.  We can help."  Seriously?!  Did I mention that you're the best kids!  EVER. :

They even unloaded it!  No bribes were offered - I promise!!
(I did give them a reward, but since it wasn't initially offered its not technically called a bribe.)

Maven decided to make dinner for the night.
(No, my pantry doesn't look like that. That is the kids' cabinet of their "cooking stuff", aka their stay-busy-even-if-it-means-a-massive-mess-while-Mom-is-cooking-for-real cabinet.)

She gave up, stripped naked, and stole Tay's dinner off of her plate. But, no one could stop her... just look at that face!

 
CK took classes to improve on his household duties.

He made a holder-thingy.  I should've enrolled him in an architecture class because we could really use a new house more than a holder-thingy.
(P.S. We're selling our house.)