Lux et umbra vicissum…

Thought I’d share a couple of fun pictures from today. First, here’s out poor, pathetic, wet puppy:

And here’s Alexis’ and my new hair-dos!

He was overdo, really.  He had peed in his crate a few times and I held off because he didn’t smell too bad.  He got a little muddy outside, but I was able to let it dry and brush it out of his fur.  But when he pooped in the crate overnight and then walked in it causing a liberal amount of poop to stick to his feet and legs… well, it was time for a bath.

To his credit, he didn’t try to get away.  He just shook.  A lot.  And it’s amazing how much he resembles a chihuahua when he’s sopping wet.   And how do you keep the pup from drinking the bath water?

What with the intake of bath water and the nervousness of the dog, I thought after the bath it would probably be wise to take the pup outside.  Problem: I had dried him with a towel, but his fur is so thick that it didn’t dry very well.  I was afraid if I took him out that wet he would catch a cold or some such thing.  So I decided the only thing to do was to – yes, you guessed it – blow dry him.

I know I’ve heard about people blow drying dogs, but I don’t recall ever hearing about the first few times that they did it.  And I thought he was shaking a lot when he was in the bath tub.  Poor thing.  He did try to get away, but I held him fast and he finally submitted to being held and dried.  But the whole time I was drying him he was shaking so hard it almost seemed like he was in convulsions.

And then Joel has to come in and comment that it’s in the 60’s outside and I really didn’t need to worry about him being outside while still rather damp.

Oh well.

When your child has a stomach virus, they should not have normal food for at least 24 hours after their last episode of whatever it is the virus is making them do.  Dairy probably should wait for 48 hours.  If they’re hungry, stick to small amounts of the BRAT diet (bananas, rice, applesauce, toast).  With five small children, this should be ingrained in my mind.

Poor Desta.

I took the puppy for his first real walk today. No, I didn’t take him very far. I remember reading somewhere that you shouldn’t take them for long walks at this age because they’re not ready for it, so I determined to just walk down the street a little bit and then back home.

Here was our walk:

Me – Come on, Cafall! Come on!

Cafall – whine and lay down on the side of the road

Me – Come ON, Cafall! It’s ok! We’re going for a walk! (commence dragging a foot or so along the street)

Cafall – whine and lay down on the side of the road

Me – Um, Cafall? It’s ok. Really. That other dog is inside its house. Ok, so there’s one up there that’s not, but it won’t leave its yard. Come on, buddy, let’s go! (commence half-dragging, half walking for a few feet along the street)

Cafall – whine and lay down on the side of the road

You get the picture. The whole purpose of this little outing was to work out some of his energy because he was being hyper-spastic puppy, but what with the scaredy-pup routine it didn’t really do the job and may have even made things worse. Oh well. He’s still a baby. I’m sure the walks will get easier and more enjoyable as he gets older.

When we got home I let him out in the backyard with four of the kids (and me, of course). That got his energy out pretty darn effectively. Maybe I shouldn’t have bothered with the walk in the first place. Then again, I guess he has to learn eventually! The other dogs won’t hurt him, mommy will keep him safe from the big bad cars, and in the end we will go home again.

When you have five children all six years old and under, you just can’t be too… well… difficult with your egg hiding spots. You can’t leave them out all over the rug, either, because that takes the fun out of things. The problem is finding a balance.

So yesterday afternoon found me hiding one hundred eggs in some of the rooms in our house. (Some of the rooms because I couldn’t hide them in the rec room where the kids were or in the nursery where Eli was sleeping.) For the most part, I was able to put them in spots where, from a certain angle, they would be visible. The best places for this sort of thing were behind pillows, sticking out of shoes, tucked under the suspenders of our clown doll, etc. Slightly more difficult, but still doable was putting an egg in each pocket of a robe that had been hung over a chair (I figured if they bumped it they’d hear the M&M’s in the egg rattle). I also put one in each of their dresser drawers. I decided if they found one, they’d check the other drawers as well.

It actually went pretty well. I told them they could each find twenty eggs, and when the older ones found all of theirs they helped the younger ones. The three year old was a little frustrating because she’d stand in the middle of a room whining, “I can’t find any!” without actually bothering to look. But I ended up just helping her like I was the younger two and things went better.

All in all, with a little help, 99 eggs were found. I found the one AWOL egg later… some clothes had been pushed over it a bit so it wasn’t as visible as it had been at first. I think I did a pretty good hiding job if there was only one that couldn’t be found. Er… good by the standards of small children, anyway. I did a terrible hiding job if I was actually hiding them. But I wasn’t. So I succeeded. Right?

Side note: Desta now has the stomach virus. No, she didn’t get sick from eating too much candy. She actually hadn’t had any yet when she started throwing up. The poor kid was vomiting so hard it was coming out her nose. TMI? Maybe, but it was interesting at the same time as I felt terrible for her. I hadn’t realized that someone could do that. Thankfully, hers seems to be following the same track as Eli’s, which means it’s coming out the other end now. Thank God for pull-ups! And if hers continues to be like Eli’s, it’ll only last for 24 hours. Amen! So be it!

Ugh… ugh… a stomach bug.

We may have to clean the rug.

Ick… ick…. Eli is sick.

Better change THAT diaper quick.

Ew… ew… what can we do?

Spray that air freshener; P-U!

Blech… blech… the house a wreck;

Laundry piled up to my neck.

Moan… moan… I give a groan;

Now Eli is not alone.

Blah… blah… I’m feeling blah.

Now who will take care of ma?

She was in a mood.  She was tired and cranky, and she wasn’t too sure she wanted to go at all.  But it was the Easter Egg Hunt for Awana, and if she didn’t go she’d miss out on finding eggs with toys and candy in them, so she went and took her grumpy attitude with her.

When she and her family arrived, they were ushered into the Sanctuary for the customary Awana opening ceremony.  As others stood and saluted the American flag to say the pledge, she sat and pouted.  As others turned to pledge to the Christian flag and the Bible, she remained steadfastly surly.  As the Awana group then pledged to the Awana flag, she stayed stuck fast to her seat with her lower lip sticking out.  Then as they sang the Awana theme song, she scooted herself all the way to the end of the row she had been sitting in and pouted there by herself, far from the rest of the group.

But then she got a little curious.  Something different was happening now.  Since the families of the children had been invited to the egg hunt, the Awana leader was having the children sing a song for them.  She slowly inched her way closer to the group.  Her teacher, knowing her fairly well, encouraged her but didn’t force her to join in.  Moving very slowly and still pouting so everyone would be sure to know that she was in a bad mood, she made her way up to the front with the rest of the children.  And then they began to sing “Jesus Loves Me”.

Over all of the other children’s voices, hers could be heard.  Her little voice, sometimes on the notes and sometimes not, missing all of the “r’s”, rang out into the room of parents and small children.  She seemed to sing with all her heart, and she definitely sang with all of her lungs.  She sang with them through to “… the Bible tells me so,” only she didn’t stop there.  As the rest of the children stood, finished with their song, she continued on to the second verse.  “Jesus loves me, He who died heaven’s gate to open wide…”  The other children looked somewhat stunned except for her older sister who was doing a little dance somewhere in the background.  “He will wash away my sin; let this little child come in…”  The parents were all smiling and tittering about how sweet the little girl up front was.  “Yes, Jesus loves me…”  Her teachers were encouraging her with big smiles on their faces.  “Yes, Jesus loves me…” Her mother was beaming through a somewhat bemused blush.  “Yes, Jesus loves me!  The Bible tells me so.”  The whole room broke into applause and she looked so proud and pleased with herself as the children returned to their seats.

And as cute as it was and as proud as I was, I was still glad I hadn’t taught her the third verse yet.

Right, so I should probably explain the dog’s name since most people don’t recognize it. 🙂 Cafall was King Arthur’s dog in the Arthurian legends. It has a bit of a Welsh flair to it, so it’s pronounced more like “kuh-VAHL”. Ok, so Arthur’s dog was a bit… well… bigger. And… er… wolfier? But, darn it, I like the name! And on the AKC registration (which we’re planning to do mainly so we can have him compete in obedience trials and such) he’ll probably have the middle name Emrys which was part of Merlin’s name in the legends and means “immortal”. I’ve been told we’ll probably need a middle name because two dogs of the same name can’t be registered; if the name is already taken, the powers that be add a number to the end of your dog’s name just to make it different. A middle name seems nicer than a number.

The kids love the pup. Eli gets scared when Cafall tries to herd him, though. Cafall plays by running around us and nipping at our feet, not that he has any particular place in mind for us to go. Anyway, Eli doesn’t much care for that, so we’ve had to separate them from time to time. The others don’t seem to mind it as much, though Branwen sometimes gets tired of it and decides to play elsewhere for a while. And so much for Charis being afraid; whenever she sees Cafall, she says, “I want to hold the puppy!”

The hardest part is refusing to let him out whenever they want to play with him. The whole crate training thing requires us to leave him in the crate a good bit of the time for now until he gets the whole outdoor potty idea. He’s improving, but he still has a little way to go. It’s hard to leave him in the crate, though; he doesn’t really mind it terribly much (he’s still young enough that he sleeps a good bit anyway), but he’s so cute and fluffy that you just want to hold him and play with him! And it’s incredibly fun to get him all excited in the kitchen and watch him run so fast that his feet can’t keep up with his body – fwoosh! There goes the puppy!

As much of a pain as this initial housebreaking is, I’m really looking forward to doing the other types of training. Obedience training – and maybe agility training at some point – will be so much more fun than dealing with poopy crates and pee on the floor. We just need to get past the irritating training so we can start on the fun stuff.

1. Have a serious talk with the puppy about how disgusting it is to sleep in your own poop. (Do not let the 1 or 2 year olds chime in.)

2. Place the puppy in the crate with a couple of washable toys and fleece rug thing to lay on.

3. Remove puppy from crate; take directly outdoors holding at arms’ length.

4. Wash toys and fleece. Clean out crate with plenty of paper towels and antibacterial wipes.

5. Invest in hand soap and lotion.

6. Repeat steps 1 through 4… and try to keep your sense of humor.