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Tuesday, January 30, 2018

Snow-Co

Today was a glorious winter morning, like any other...until it wasn't.  The snow was falling softly and I let SoCo out to play as she loves the snow.  First thing she did was run around the tree at the end of her 50' run [don't judge, she's a scent-hound that can't be off leash and her breed is known to climb trees so fences are also out].  Then she began harmlessly eating snow...and thus why in winter the kids call her Snow-Co.

Snow-Co: Mommy, I am dog.  And I am done eating snow.  And I'm stuck.  Come get me.
Me: Dude!  Go around the tree. [now, she knows this command, but it appears we will revisit the training this summer]
Snow-Co:  But, I am dog and I cannot.  Wait.  I got it!  This way? [runs the wrong way around again]
Me: Come on you moron...go around the tree!
Snow-Co: YOU. WILL. COME. GET. ME. I will it so!
Me: Go around!

[this continues for about three minutes that felt like an hour; I go back inside to swap my slippers for BJ's sneakers inside the door and begin the long tromp out there]

Snow-Co: Haha!  You want to play!  I will run around the tree!  Twice, because you said so more than once.
Me: Jeeeee-Zus, are you kidding me?  These foot yachts are full of snow already!
Snow-Co: You want to play?  I'm coming for you!

She begins running for me completely untethered from the tree, at full bore.  She begins barking and running like a mad woman around me while I duck and pray I don't get taken out by the run/tie-out.

Snow-Co: Play!  You will play!  See?  I will run and you will run and we will run and PLAYING!
Me: Stop, God stop! [I duck down again, while putting an arm out bc she is now trying to jump ON me]
Snow-Co: Woooo-Hooooo!  Playing!  I love the snow and when you play and RUNNING MOMMY!
Me: ARGH!

At this moment I fall into the snow.  With men's sneakers on that are about six sizes too big for me - seriously, who in the hell has feet this big?!?  I feel like Ralphie's kid brother trying to get up.  I roll around like a marooned Yeti for a moment until I find my footing in these pontoons.  At this, the dog runs up and knocks me down again.

Me: DOG!  Quit. That.
Snow-Co:  I love to play with you Mommy!  Here, eat the snow too!  It is yummy! [at this she somehow flings up snow and covers me in a shower of it...only on my face]

More rolling ensues.  I get up to find she's casually strolled to the back door.

Snow-Co: Mommy, I am dog and I am done playing in the snow.  What are you doing?!?  Stop with your nonsense and come let me inside!

Ugh.

Thursday, January 4, 2018

Oh What Fun!

There is nothing quite like a holiday party to put things in perspective.  And booooooy, do we love a good Holiday Party.  This year was no exception with over 40 men, women and children partaking in our festivities.

See, I'm a clean freak.  That's not to say my home is a sparkling gem - Noooooo.  Mainly, being a clean freak means that I walk around frustrated over doing the same chore 17 times in a row and muttering to myself as I make my rounds tidying up after my non-clean freak family.  Enter the Holiday Party.

Most people spend days cleaning prior to a party.  Not this girl, nope.  I let my joint go, barely cleaning anything outside of the essentials for about 2 weeks, because well - people.  Jammed into my house.  The real cleaning comes AFTER the last guest has gone home and I've recovered from drinking too much of my neighbor's moonshine eggnog [Thanks, Paige...I'm still recovering from THAT].

That's when I get to see that maybe my family isn't such a hot mess after all.  And over the years of us having this huge shindig, I think I've seen most everything...included but not limited to:

  • Hot chocolate spilled in a kitchen drawer
  • A booger wiped on a bathroom mirror (more like finger painted on)
  • Fudge smooshed to the underside of a table
  • Crayon marks on walls
  • Soda drips down the side of the couch
  • Remotes covered in cracker crumbs
  • And I don't even want to know WHAT that is on my ceiling...
And I wouldn't trade any of it for the world!  However, when the yearly cleaning process starts, I'm sure you would hear the most fantastical things mumbled as I shift from room to room with my cleaning spray and a rag.

"Wow, that Eggnog...JESUS - how did that get there?  [wiping] And I don't even think we had fudge that color.  Hmmm, wonder where the OMG, [spraying] is that a booger?  [scrubbing] Why isn't there a vacuum that [bending over and inspecting large pieces of furniture] sprays and wipes too?!?  And then the - IS THAT SOUP?  WHO IN GOD'S NAME ATE SOUP IN...SoCo!  Don't eat that...whatever it is!"

Typically, I emerge from the cleaning frenzy about three days later to have my house back to the natural state of chaos that my family resides in.  And it feels good.  And I am content.  

Well, except for wondering what ADULT wiped a booger on my mirror; because no kid can reach that high...