The Morning Assault . . .

Anyone who knows me realizes I like dogs more than I like most people. That is for many reasons but mainly because they are completely loyal to you and always seem happy to see you. About 10 years ago I ran a dog rescue out of my home. I lived in a very small town in OK and once they know you take dogs in I pretty much woke up at least twice a week to a new dog on my door step. I personally prefer mutts. They are healthier, do not require a piece of paper to be loved and usually are so darn ugly they are cute.

So about two months ago the kids and I decided to get a dog and of course we checked out the local animal shelters and rescues to find that perfect dog. We spent about two weeks and finally found a dog that met all the rules – the rules were pretty much the fact the dog had to be small since we are currently living in a rental house. That is how we ended up with Charlie.

Charlie is a cross of a mini schnauzer and we think, Jack Russell terrier. Charlie is a very sweet dog. He is not yippy, he is not timid and he loves to play. He is about 7 months old now and is fully potty trained. He sleeps through the night too . . .kinda.

I do not sleep well or much. Typically if I can get 5 hours I am ecstatic so Charlie and I tend to stay up until midnight or after. I get up at 6 to get my much needed cup of coffee in before I get the kids up. However, Charlie has begun what I like to refer to “The Morning Assault”. Again, Charlie is a puppy and puppies like to play. So around 5:30 Charlie wakes up and makes his way to the end of the bed. From what I can tell, he just sits there until I make some sort of move – I am pretty sure if no drastic movement is detected a shallow breath is enough to engage the assault. Once detected, Charlie pounces on me and begins to gnaw and bite and wrestle . . . with my hair. Now, I will give Charlie credit at that time in the morning my hair resembles some sort of scary monster but I don’t THINK it actually fights back. Once the attack has ensued, any attempt on my part to defend myself is taken as a challenge. At this point serious biting, growling and wrestling begins . . . and then Charlie begins to growl and bite back. . .

My attempts to have Charlie sleep with the children have failed miserably. My attempts to keep Charlie up until the wee hours in hopes of him sleeping in have been about as successful as Tony Romo this season. So, I guess I will just realize Charlie is who he is and deal with it . . . Benadryl here we come!

First and Ten - Pass the Baby Powder

Have you seen the ESPN commercials where the girl is attending a baby shower and watching a game on her phone? When I first saw that commercial I laughed because I thought it was kinda funny and a little “over the top”. Well, I will no longer laugh at such commercials because if could have, I would have done the same darn thing this past weekend.

I attended a baby shower for the daughter of a friend of mine. By some scheduling error, the baby shower started at 2:00 and the UT game started at 2:30. I figured play a baby game, eat some food, open gifts and we are out of there by 3:30 4:00. But NOOOOO – as usual people come draggin ass in 30 minutes to an hour late. Then everyone has to talk and be introduced and of course they are blocking the TV. Me and three other faithful football fans are parked on the couch watching the game but do you think anyone cares that we missed the fist touchdown because someone wants to see a quilt that has been handed down generation to generation? Nope – so I casually mention the fact that the lighting in the kitchen would probably show the detail work better on the quilt – we got to catch the replay.

By 3:30ish it is announced that we are going to begin the viewing of the gifts. Me and my two football cohorts huddle up and decide pausing the game is the best idea – that way we can fast forward through the commercials when we start it back up. I am looking around at all of the people and glance at the pile of gifts and my first thought is – how many outfits does this girl really need? I mean really – it is a baby that is going to puke and poop on everything – put it in a onesie or one of those sack things to make it easier on everyone. But NOOO – we go through each bag very methodically and each bag contains no less than 5 outfits. Of course we have to hold EACH piece of EACH outfit up so everyone can see it, check the sizing of each piece and then discuss where it can be worn. WTF! So as the pile of gifts dwindles and the clock races forward we are excited to be able to turn the game back on at 5:00.

Just as we are about to hit “play” some seriously LATE arrivals show up for the shower – now I am thinking at this point these people are geniuses. Not only did they miss all the introductions and baby shower “fun” but they have probably been at home watching the game and can still get a piece of the cake. So, we hit the play button at which point one of the new arrivals announces the blowout score of the game. Seriously? Me and my two football friends just give up at this point because it really does spoil the fun when you already know the score. Let’s just skip the cake . . . and go home.

All joking aside - I love my friend and would be there for her or her family at ANY time . . . I just hope she doesn't need me durning the UT vs OU game - LOL.

9 Tips for Dating - Shelly's Translation

Okay, so I just read an article on Yahoo! titled “9 Signs a Guy is a Keeper”. While I agree with most of them I think I shall interpret them further.

Tip #1 – He has his act together – Shelly translation – he can get his ass out of bed and make it to work on time or get the kids to school or yes, even make it to church on occasion since there seems to be no problem getting out of bed for golf, football or fishing.

Tip #2 – He puts you first – Shelly translation –when you park to go into a store and get out of the car, you don’t have to sprint to catch up with him before he walks through the door. Or your birthday/anniversary comes around and you get to go to dinner with him . . . rather than hoping to see him on the jumbo-tron at some sporting event.

Tip #3 – He’s not afraid of your germs. Shelly Translation – he will actually hand you a Kleenex instead of throwing the box from across the room in fear of your infectiousness.

Tip #4 – He’s a family man – Shelly translation – he knows family member’s by their names (other than mother, father and sibling) rather than referring to them as the "short fat one" or the "geek with no hair" or "pat".

Tip #5 – He makes time for your friends – Shelly translation – he would like to hang out with you and your friends regardless of boob size, child sitting availability in the future or season tickets he/she may own.

Tip #6 – He’s your Biggest Cheerleader – Shelly translation – he is not whiny when you want to go shopping or to dinner with friends rather than sitting at home watching him watch TV.

Tip #7- He remembers the little things – Shelly translation – He knows your birthday or that you worried about an upcoming meeting rather than who was named to the football hall of fame in 1987 or who won the British Open in 1995.

Tip # 8 – He’s Happy When Your Happy – Shelly Translation – he is genuinely happy to do things you like to do just to see you smile – not because he thinks he will get laid or sexual favors for “doing stupid things” like shopping or just taking a walk.

Tip #9 – He makes you the best you can be – Shelly translation – you feel good about yourself when you are around him – rather than plotting ways to secretly cause pain to his person or booby-trap his “precious little car”.

These are just my thoughts and feelings and I realize they are not for the masses – but then again, neither am I!

I like fish tanks. I think watching fish swim is very relaxing so for the past 5 or 6 years I have kept a Beta in my office. My first beta was named Dirk – he was a pretty blue and I got him during basketball season . . . so of course I named him after my favorite Mav. Dirk must have been the exception to the rule because he lived for almost two years. Once he “passed” I waited a respectable amount of time and went and got another fish – this time we named him Sam. I called to check on Sam while I was on vacation and asked my friend in the office, Amanda Griffith, if she was feeding Sam. She replied yes but when I got back from my vacation I noticed the fish bowl was empty. Apparently, Sam kicked the bucket while I was gone and Amanda did not want to ruin my vacation . . . she is sweet in that way. After Sam, I got Charlie . . . Charlie barely made it two weeks – not really sure what his problem was but he was just not meant to be. Last week, I got another fish – I did not tell anyone in the office about the new fish, nor did I name it – it was a very busy and hectic day – way too hectic to attempt to name a fish. So the next morning when I arrived at work I am looking in the bowl and there is no fish. As I begin to look around I finally find him – dead, dried out like a piece of leather on my desk calendar. He landed and flapped around on Tuesday September 1 and made his way over to Wednesday September 2 as there are little fish scales on those dates. But here are the two big questions – do I strip off the September calendar and just be without a calendar for September? And secondly – why did my fish commit suicide? In answer to my first question, Steve, my big boss, came up with a great solution – we just put sticky notes over those two days so I do not have too look at the crime scene. As for the second question I guess I will never know what early fishood tragedy caused him to jump from his bowl. Many in my office think that fish suicide is a sign that I should probably NOT get another fish . . . but I disagree – now it is more of a quest, a challenge to find the perfect fish . . . that can survive for at least 6 months to year. So now, I have Griff - he has been alive and swimming for 3 days now - we are off to a good start! And I have named him Griff in honor of Amanda Griffith, because when she returns we will not longer have a Griffith - he name will be Harvey . . . Congrats Amanda HARVEY!!!!!

Please Mom, No E-Harmony . . .

How do you know when you may need help? Well, maybe it is when one of your children begs you, I mean begs you not try E-Harmony. Now, I am not single yet and even when I do become single I somehow doubt I will try E-Harmony. But after 5 seconds of reflection I had to ask . . . why, son, are you so against E-harmony? Apparently, his father had a date via E-harmony prior to meeting his current girlfriend, who we really like, and I am not sure how it went on the actual date, but for my son it was one of those “scarring” experiences of childhood. Apparently, (can you tell I work with lawyers?) when said date took place the kids were left with a babysitter and the sitter watched my two kiddos and the child of the “other woman”. During this date Andrew and the other child was goaded into fighting and then the other child apparently yielded some type of pipe and began to hit my lovely little boy. His sister, aka She-rah Princess of Power, came to his rescue. Therefore I have sworn off E-Harmony! Not for my own benefit, but for the benefit of my children. I will also swear off Cool River and any place that still allows smoking.