More Critters

So. We live in the woods. We have critters. Late the other night, we heard...someone...moving about in the attic above our heads.

Not cool.

Enter Gus and Jules.

$1000 to whomever gets the reference.



Gus^^^





^^^Jules

They are about 8 weeks old, and feisty little boogers. The brother and sister pair were adopted from a rescue in New Jersey and picked up halfway in Connecticut today. My dear friend Gail brought them to us. We also enjoyed a lovely lunch with her and her cutie baby girl. It was a good day.

Jonah (the dog) once is mystified by the new creatures. They all met briefly this evening after the little boys and girl went to bed. So far, so good.


The boys are abiding by my strict visitation rules: Two kids at a time, they stay in the bathroom, not picking them up, etc etc. It's going well!

Additionally and most assured UNRELATED, Miriam was introduced to PB&J  this evening. And it was a hit. YAY!

Update From the Tiny Farm on the Hill

Well. Things are moving right along.

School is continuing to be a challenge as the weather is turning warmer. I knew it would be this way. But we have to keep on it. It's not easy convincing those little boys to sit still long enough to get it done. We'll keep at it.

Our little micro farm is growing. The seeds are starting to poke their way heavenward (minus the few that Ezra accidentally knocked onto the porch. Oops. Maybe they'll grow there anyway.

The trees we planted don't seem dead yet. That is hopeful.

The chickens are fat.

The dog is lazy, except for this evening when we were chasing chickens and he decided he wanted to participate. We can NOT have that. No sir. I'm pretty sure he would have killed a chicken if he'd caught one, not necessarily on purpose, but still. But he was stopped and sent in the house. But it was some drama! Oh my!

We're in serious talks trying to actually add MORE creatures to our little place here on the hill. Maybe we are crazy. Maybe. But dreams are coming true, and that is what we are here for. There is so much delight in the few "farm" chores we have. The boys don't seem to tire of them. So we're counting our blessings, embracing the little corner of the world we've worked so hard for. It's wonderful.


($10 prize if you can guess what is all over my shirt!)

Miriam was plagued with a high fever for three days, and so we headed to urgent care on Mother's day. Now, we are squirting antibiotics down her throat twice a day. Thank you ear infection! She's much improved. Not that she was acting sick in the slightest, minus the 103 degree fever, because she wasn't. She was behaving as bright and sunny as ever. Dork-butt.

So, yes. There is the update.

In Which I Yell...

Dear World:

A foot A FOOT on March 19th. This is so deeply offensive.

THEN add to that a dead (and I mean DEAD) snow blower.

What does that mean?

(If you guessed, "I guess that means you had to shovel the driveway", then you could not be more WRONG.)

It means I'll be going nowhere until the darn snow melts. MELTS I say.

(Shovel? I'm sorry, I don't understand that. Come visit. See my driveway, THEN talk to me about shoveling.)

Then this morning, I was TRYING TO BE A NICE PERSON, so I betook myself (and the dog) outside at 6-frickin'-am to do his business, and clean off Derek's car. (BECAUSE I'M A NICE PERSON!) And I fell down ALL the stairs. (THERE ARE 8 OF THEM). Now, there is a strange numbness in a portion of my back.

I did not clean off Derek's car. I HAVE MY LIMITS.

And this darn winter is PUSHING THEM WAY BEYOND MY HAPPINESS.

I did not intend, when I came here today to gritch about the weather. BUT APPARENTLY THAT IS WHAT IS HAPPENING.

EVERYONE has a runny nose again. AGAIN. What is this, JANUARY?

Can someone please tell me, if it is possible for a two-year-old to poop in his SLEEP, because I declare that is what is happening. I thought you had to be awake to do so, but he is proving otherwise. EVERY SINGLE MORNING, Derek or I rush in there to catch him as he is waking to get him to the potty in time and EVERY SINGLE MORNING he is greatly distressed because he has ALREADY DONE HIS BUSINESS.

Pull-ups are NOT designed for that much BUSINESS if you know what I mean.

ALSO, the toddler and preschooler gave up naps last week AT THE SAME TIME. This is so rude I can not even explain it. BOTH OF YOU??? AT THE SAME TIME??

I want a vacay to somewhere warm and poo-free.

Love,
Morgan

We Survived Our First Nor'Easter!

We survived our first Nor'Easter!

It was ridiculous. SO MUCH SNOW. The official totals for our area was just over 2 feet, but our little hill was gifted with much closer to 3 ft.



(Looking down on the van from the porch. I had to dig a door out because Derek's gloves were inside.)

I've been having to potty the dog on the driveway, if that is any indication of how much snow there is. He can't out in the yard because the snow is so light and deep that he sinks. He's also a pathetic beast from Las Vegas, so he's not a fan of winter.

Derek did the bulk of the snow-blowing, although I did one run up and down (did you know our driveway is over 200 feet long? Meaning that one run up and back took me an hour?)



(What a champ. For comparison's sake, Derek is 6'4, and he had to go over everything twice.)

Our neighbors who are also in our ward showed up with an extra snow-blower, shovels and teenaged daughters to help.

Four hours later, we had a driveway!

It was crazy.



(Ezra was unimpressed.)

I am so grateful to have maintained power throughout. We were warm and cozy and feasted on homemade bread for two straight days.

Today it is snowing/raining again and so instead of going to the store to get food to replace everything we ate as we were snowed in, I shall simply not do that.

Perhaps more bread is for dinner?

The ER and I are BFFs.

Ezra appears to be prone to stomach bugs. Henry started this one. HE threw up once and whined the rest of the day.

Ezra got it the next day and threw up more times than I could count.

This is bad enough. Then you pair that with a boy who at 19 months weighed in at less than the 5th percentile at a whopping 21.4 lbs, and you get trouble.



TOOOOO skinny + nothings staying down makes for a nervous mama, squirting 1cc of water down your throat every five minutes all night long.

Then you add in a delightful Utah holiday called Pioneer Day in the which everyone uses up their leftover fireworks until midnight, thus awakening your 3 year old Oliver putting him into terrified hysterics and you got yourself a party.



NOT PICTURED: The dog cowering on my bedroom floor as well, terrified that WWIII had begun right outside our house. STUPID FIREWORKS.

Super fun, right?

I thought Ezra was improving, he managed to hold down small sips of water and tiny bites of rice for an hour, but then, no, everything that went in came right back out.

So, at 2:30 this morning, I said, "That's it. You throw up one more time and we're going to the doctor."

He answered by horfing the tiny bit of water he'd had onto my lap.

And so, to the ER went. I live there, apparently.

I was worried IV fluids were in his future, but no, ZOFRAN THE MIRACLE DRUG did the trick. Half a pill, dissolved in his cheek and he was eating jello and popcicles like a pro.

Mama is grateful. Today, we're hydrating with Otter Pops.

I am super tired of stomach bugs.

Stupid Dog

From September 2011

The one member of our family who gets very little face time is the one of the four-legged kind. 

Today, he declared he'd had enough of being the one who no one notices! 

For the record, WE notice him. WE love him, but come on, blog-worthy antics? Almost never.

Well, now. Like I said, he decided to bring himself to the forefront of our story. 

We ran to the book store and the bank and were gone approximately an hour. We were excited to come home to simmering homemade tomato soup and delicious bread. 

We typically shut Jonah (the dog) down in the basement in our absence because Mr. Rescue Dog has an affinity for trash-rooting and bed-laying, two things which we do not take kindly to. 

So, I saunter on down to let him up so he can wag his tail and wait patiently for Ezra and Oliver to drop delectable bits to his level. 

I had left the backdoor open for him to do his typical afternoon doody/duty while we were gone. On a normal day, the backyard is a perfectly respectable place for him to chill. 

Well, as I was walking around, he was NO WHERE. I saw that the back gate had been left just slightly  ajar. 

I stood staring, dumbfounded. Jonah has been in our family for two years, and even when I've left the gate WIDE open before (yes, of course it's happened) he's never come close to wandering away. 

I was... to be clear... confused. 

He'd gone, that much was clear. But um, why? And where to? 

So, we left our dinner to simmer and our bread to crustify, and went in search of our long-lost-puppy-pants. 

Our across-the-street neighbor whom we've never met was out doing yard work. We approached and asked. He had INDEED seen our stupid dog wandering and suggested we hit the vet up the street, see if they've had someone drop him there. We headed over. 

No, they did not have him, and why oh why haven't we changed over his microchip to our information? 

Um, not remotely helpful right this minute. 

They did help by giving us the name and number of an Office V...something, I'll call him Officer V, who is in charge of code enforcement. He apparently is the ONE to call when one's doggie has gone missing. 

So, I called him, feeling stupid. It's been an hour. There is no way he's been caught. He's off chasing cats and hasn't even realized it's time to come HOME. 

I left a message. 

Office V called me back with a phone number, and wished me good luck. 

I called the number. 

A kid name Cale (okay, I changed his name) answered. 

"Mottled color? Blue collar? Sweetest dog in the world? Yup. I've got him."

So, we raced up the hill (exactly three blocks from our house) and found Jonah happy as a clam. 

Stupid dog. 

"He didn't look underfed... but I gave him food and water anyway," Cale explained. 

"Thank you! Where was he?" I asked. 

"Standing in the middle of that street," he pointed through the trees to a much-busier-than-I-would-like street. I sighed, "Stupid dog," I repeated. 

It turns out Cale had brought him home but didn't know what to do with a dog with a collar but no tags, so he asked a neighbor who then gave him Officer V's number. He called Officer V and said, "If anyone calls about their dog, I've got him." According to Officer V, this was five minutes before we called him. 

Thank goodness for kind neighbors, nice Officers and helpful Vet offices. 

Because everyone was very distraught. Henry was in tears at the thought of his lost dog. 

And Spencer? When we pulled into the Vet's parking lot asked, "Are we here to get a new dog?"

Then we got home, Spencer asked, "Is this REALLY Jonah?"

Oh.my.gosh. He was gone for AN HOUR. 

Sheesh. 

Stupid dog.