Adventures in dog-napping

Mary Ann was dog-sitting for us for a few days, and today I had to go pick Sugar up.  I called Mary Ann ahead of time to let her know I was coming, and while on the phone she mentioned two Cocker Spaniels that had been seen roaming her neighborhood.  They looked like someone's pets, she said, but obviously needed help.  After a search around the neighborhood, however, they had disappeared.  

But when I turned the corner into her neighborhood, there in the middle of the street, was this sweet little dog, just sitting there, staring off into the distance.  I pulled up slowly next to him and shooed him off of the road so he wouldn't get hit.  When I told Mary Ann about it, we decided to go and get him.  He wouldn't go to her, and climbed up into a little patch of woods near her house.  I took the leash from her, and crawled up after him.  He had gotten into a very tight patch full of thorns.  He let me pet him and get the lease around him, but getting him out was an exercise in ripping up my arms and legs with thorns.  Seeing him up close, I realize he's probably been abandoned a lot longer than we had thought.  He was quite timid and scared until we got him into Mary Ann's backyard, where he began to get very happy and excited, and he really loved the boys.  

Now, I gripe about dogs a lot, I know.  But it's really just because my dog is so annoying.  Seriously, I can't even tell you.  And I fell in love with this other little dog in the ten minutes I was in his company.  We are going to try to see if someone has advertised a lost dog that matches him, but if not...  Mary Ann and I just might be squabbling over him.  

For a very annoying cat, he's quite debonair

Ewan reads Thomas

Bryce and I could listen to this for hours.

Random, I know

I was going through some of our pictures today, and came across this one from our bluebonnet excursion. Bryce was trying to get some individual shots of Fynn, and suddenly something white flashed by. I think it's hilarious.
More to post later - I have lots to gripe about.

Maybe next time...

Now I find out I was supposed to starve myself all this time in order to have a girl! 

Finders, Keepers

Okay, so I stole it. Here goes:

Maybe I should exercise.
I love queso.
People would say that I’m a mooch.
I don’t understand why I hate to exercise.
When I wake up in the morning I groan.
I lost my wallet in the 10th grade, and I’ve never gotten over it.
Life is full of confusion.
My past is full of impetuous, bad choices.
I get annoyed when people shove objects in my face.
Parties are fun if the right people are there.
I wish I had more square feet.
Dogs are shedders.
Cats are the awesomest bit of awesome in all the awesome land.
Tomorrow I'm catching up on laundry and housework.
I have low tolerance for whining, or repetitious sounds.
I’m totally terrified of losing a loved one, or dying myself.
I wonder why I'm so tired all the time (pregnancy not withstanding)
Never in my life have I eaten a worm.
High school was a time I didn’t live up to my potential - except in drama. I rocked in drama.
When I’m nervous I talk fast, and ramble.
One time at a family gathering my uncle insulted my sister, and my brother got in a fistfight to defend her honor.
Take my advice: Don’t take my advice.
Making my bed is the first step to me having an okay day. When I do it.
I'm almost always wanting a Coke.
I’m addicted to freakin’ food!
I want someone to tell me what’s up.

Gee, pessimist much, Kelli?

A rash of bad luck...

About two months ago, Fynn sprouted a tiny little rash next to his nose. I didn't think much of it, maybe some dry skin, so I wasn't too bothered. But then it started to spread, and get angrier. We held off until his 15 month checkup, where we were told it was impetigo. The doctor prescribed a very mild oral antibiotic, and said to call her in ten days if it didn't improve. Well, it did improve, for about four days, when it came back even worse. The doctor then gave him a much stronger antibiotic, one that smelled like a dirty pair of underwear and gave him the worst diaper rash he's ever had. It did, however, make his rash a bit better. For about five days. So now I have to take him to a pediatric dermatologist, one that doesn't have an open appointment for another month. I'm so frustrated, and need to try to figure something out. Today was Fynn's first day in a month that he has been off of any antibiotic, and in just 24 hours, the rash has gotten twice as bad. What's he going to look like in a month?! If you have a strong stomach, check out these image results of impetigo. While Fynn's isn't anywhere near as bad as most of these, that's also because he's been under some treatment. I'm nervous about what will develop after a month of no treatment. This may be a bit of a rambling post, but I'm so sad for Fynn, who seems to have been born under an unlucky star. He has had more extremely high fevers in his 15 months that Ewan has had in four years, he's had his leg broken, a pressure sore developed, bad reactions to vaccines... The list goes on. When is the poor boy going to get a break? And me, too?

On a lighter note, here are some cute pictures of the man in question:
Ewan told me, "Fynn's thinks he's eating spaghetti!" When I went into the room, he had a mouthful of yellow yarn. Unfortunately, once I had the camera, he refused to look at me, but he was very proud of himself, and I thought it was funny that Ewan thought of spaghetti.

"I can eat yogurt by myself, thank you very much."

Thanks to Grace for these cute pictures she took at lunch last week. I love this coy look of Fynn's.

And, as mentioned before, this is Ewan's current signature look.

"See! He's her lobster!"

Yesterday afternoon, I was making a quick Target trip, trying to fit in some last shopping before Bryce and I seriously buckle down and go on a strict budget. We passed Red Lobster, and Ewan said, "Someday, I want to go to Red Lobster." I said, "Oh, sure someday we will." I thought it was funny, so I texted it to Bryce, and he calls back mere minutes later saying he's already called his mother, and that we would be having dinner there.

Now, we eat at Red Lobster, like, never, because let's face it... It can be yummy, but it can also be... um... gross. But you can never go wrong with cheddar biscuits, for sure, so off we went. While waiting, we observed the live lobsters, of course, and I became a little more than mildly distressed when they came to take one out right in front of us to take it to be cooked. It was moving around, and struggling, and I couldn't help thinking, "Do you know what's about to happen? Say your prayers, my lobster friend. Say them well." (I mean, really, would we go to steak joint and watch the cows frolicking in the pasture, then see them be led away to the slaughter?) I can't help thinking of that poor lobster, and I wonder if that Friends episode is true where Phoebe talks about lobsters holding claws in the tank, and that they are monogamous for life. (The best Friends episode ever, by the way.) Is there a little lobster funeral going on somewhere? Is the widow wearing a black veil, carting her two children by the claws in a tank funeral? It's a lobster concentration camp, for Pete's sake!

Then Ewan insisted he was going to eat lobster. We'd never normally get lobster, too darn expensive, but Bryce decided if he and Ewan shared the platter, it would even out. (Kind of.) When they brought it out, Ewan was quite freaked out by the antennae thingies, and insisted Bryce remove them before he'd go anywhere near it. But once that was done, the boy completely pigged out and loved him some lobster. Although now he says it was gross and will never eat it again. And that's fine by me, I'm not fond of seeing my food kicking right before I eat it. But I know the truth, I saw him relishing every bite. I suppose it's the experience that counts.

But that poor orphaned lobster family.

Baby Blues

Before it's too late, I wanted to get the boys in the bluebonnets for pictures. The last time Bryce and I did this was a couple of months after we were married. It's long overdue; as pure-blood Texans, we should be ashamed of ourselves.

Checking out the landscape.

He has been so feisty lately, and this picture just about perfectly sums up his attitude.

At least Fynn is amused.

Afterwards, we went out for ice-cream, and Ewan really enjoyed his. This is him "clean."

Fynn was very happy to use his own spoon.

These are blooming outside of my house right now. They are lilies that came from a single bulb that grew in my grandmother's yard. After she died, I pried the bulb out of the frozen ground with my bare hands the night before her house sold. She would be very pleased to see this display.

Lessons from Elmo

Today, Ewan had to change shirts due to a spill, and before he had put on a new one, I noticed his back was quite red where he'd been trying to scratch it. He then told me, "My back itches so much!" I told him to come to me so I could look at it, but before the sentence was out of my mouth, he'd put on a new shirt and was heading out to the backyard. I heard him say something about a tree, so I watched him out the window and witnessed this:
There my son was, moving his back up and down against the tree to scratch it. I just asked him where he learned it, and he said from a little girl on Elmo's World who likes to scratch her back on trees. This is what my son takes away from an episode of Sesame Street. I thought he was going to tell me he learned it from watching the dog or an animal from TV. He repeated this again later in the evening, and Bryce was able to witness it that time. There we were, hiding behind the curtains, laughing hysterically, and then we ran and sat down as he headed back in, pretending we'd been sitting in the living room the whole time.