A lovely moment

I rarely get quality one-on-one time with my monkeys, so lately I have been making an effort to spend little bursts of that kind of time, concentrating on each one. I hope they get that idea that mommy loves them all, each for their own reasons, and not just the "package deal".

This morning I am on the floor with them all, wrestling, taking turns with each one, looking at them purposefully and with lots of love in my eyes. I'm hoping they get the idea that they can come to me anytime for individual snuggle or play time.

Cole is especially goofy this morning, matching mommy's tune, and we were wrestling. He was making all sorts of funny growling noises and his eyes were sparkling in mischief. He had this huge grin on his face and kept instigating. I ended up on my back and he toppled on me with so much force, I knew it was intended! He even made this "Uh!" sound, knowing I was about to imitate him once he landed on my tummy. I looked up at him, his face filling my frame of vision, our noses a few inches apart. He suddenly went quiet, looking into my eyes, still grinning, looking like he loved me, loved the time we were spending, loving this moment...

And, quick as a wink...he shoved his finger up my nose.

Moment over....back to wrestling!

I forgot about the Hurricane!

Boy are we lucky.

I have always said to Mike that we are "blessed", but not "lucky". I define the difference as "never having bad things happen to us" vs "never win anything, even a stinkin' scratch-off lottery ticket". We grumble at times that we have to work so hard for everything we get, while friends around us seem to have things handed to them (even their mortgage! not kidding!) Though, the balance was there. Until we lost Ruger, no major unforeseen losses have ever graced our lives. So, we made peace with the fact that being "blessed", this was His gift to us.

That balance unhinged after we were left without our gentle puppy dog. I confess that I was pretty mad at God for taking him away, especially so early. I was holding a sizable grudge, and that makes my face flush just saying it. Previously, our hard times were more easily bearable when we knew he would keep the awful things in life at bay. So, now where were we? I guess that makes me a terrible Catholic, falling to pieces in the hard times, leaving His side, angry with Him.

Well, He had a message for us...that maybe we are all given "just enough" to get us by. We are "blessed" just enough and also "lucky" just enough.... enough to get us through this life, enough for us to handle things and enough for us to be strengthened and learn without losing faith. Just enough grief, happiness, hard times and good times to keep the balance, to make us appreciate all that we have and all that we are because of His "just enough" teaching moments.

Here was our message:

A Tree... About 2 1/2 feet in diameter... will fall in the night... and fall right smack in the middle of your house and your barn. Just so you know how lucky you really are.

Hurricane Ike had delivered incredibly strong winds that night, even in its downgraded state. Winds like I have never heard before made me come to understand why people in a tornado say it sounds like a train is coming through their house. It was incredibly loud and sounded so scary to me...I worried we might lose a tree, one of the many that surround the house, but that night they felt more like weapons to me. Any given day finds me in love with the forest all around us...but that night I worried.

It was about midnight, and we had just fallen asleep. The wind was so loud it was keeping us awake! I heard it first...the crack! of the tree snapping - that is what woke me up. I opened my eyes to see a flash and then, a BOOM! Mike heard the boom, and thought he saw a flash behind his eyes... At that moment, I thought it was thunder... yet peculiar because I remember that the boom never rumbled like thunder does afterwards. I was scared awake, and then felt a sense of dread because a thunderstorm would wake the kids.

Mike got up and realized the power was off, thinking the most likely culprit was the high winds. He went to get a lantern and a flashlight for both of us and glanced out the window. Our next door neighbor's lights were on. Hmm... That's weird! He and I both started thinking the same thought then - was that our power line that flashed?

He took the flashlight and panned it through our bedroom window, and we saw the reason for our lost power. The leaves obscured most of our view and we stared in awe. How did that NOT hit the house? Like a crazy person, Mike decided to go out in the storm and check out the damage... I sat there and worried again.

He realized out there that we were indeed, very lucky people. The tree snapped off 10 feet above the ground and had fallen right in between our two structures, almost exactly in the middle. It pinned our power line down to the ground, ripping it from our house in the process. That was the flash of light we saw, an arc of electricity from the house to the disconnecting wire. It lit up the night! The tree was situated right next to the house, so if it would have fallen to the right, it would have ended up in the kids room, right on top of the kids. We both shuddered at the thought, of what we had escaped. No losses, no damage, just a few deep holes in the ground, like scars, to remind us of what we could have lost....of how lucky we truly are.

Cody lost in the branches...

We didn't have power for a few days, but luckily we have a generator - it's presence generated by the lovely October Storm almost 2 years ago today! The story of how we got it back on and how the kids slept through the chaos is kinda funny so I will post that later. Goofy electricians, one loud chainsaw and babies who are excellent at sleeping. Good times, good times....

And Yes...

The haircuts have finally happened...as you might be able to tell from the pic above.

Next post!

On the Swings

A few weeks ago, we took the kids to a local park with a nice little playground. New parents that we are, we are all about finding the local hot spots...that is, the cute parks we never knew existed. Now, we actually know why they were invented. ;)

This time we ventured into Marilla, and the kids had their first crack at the swings, ever.
Of course, they loved them...giggling and even trying to propel themselves forward for more fun! It was a warm day and they had a ball playing on the playset too. Though I do have to ask...why do they have little tiny stones under those things? Don't they know toddlers put everything in their mouths? I'm sure they all left with at least one in their belly...a small price to pay for a fabulously (free) good time!

Take that! Landing on Mr. B

Miss Alex with a stony snack

Cole, walking like C-3PO

Surrounded!

Whee!

"I can't look!"

Pouty Cole on the Playset

"Umm, excuse me, sir...I'd like to get by..."

Braden, taking the easy way up

Daddy, guarding the exit

What's Cookin'?

Alex!

Yesterday, my daughter decided to get into the frying pan and sit there, legs crossed to fit. She's in a phase where getting into boxes, baskets, etc... is just too much fun to pass up! And she just sits in there, like it's a comfy old chaise lounge, evn though it's just about as big as her. Too funny. She'll watch tv, her brothers, she'll sing - she's squished in there, but she stays put for a while! It's adorable.

Yesterday they were all playing "pots and pans" band on the kitchen floor and after she crawled in, looking like the scene where Bugs Bunny is taking a "bath" in the soup Elmer Fudd is preparing around him, and taking inspiration from the cartoon, Mike thought it would be funny to actually place her on the stove.

Yep, he gets the "Backwards Teaching Father of the Year Award". Doesn't he know they're always listening? ;) She was adorable.

As if that wasn't cool enough...

I just wanted to post about what an incredibly cool guy Dean Koontz is.

After winning the contest, I thought my glee had crescendoed. I was wrong! The next day in the mail, my "prize" arrived. It was a signed copy of Trixie's new book, but I was expecting that.


What I wasn't expecting was a hand written note from Dean tucked away in the pages, actually penned to me...about how he thought it sounded like Ruger was a "wonderful boy" and he knew Trixie and him were at play in the fields of Heaven. Wow. He wrote to every single winner personally. What a guy!


And then he signed the book...


An incredible gift that had me giggling in happy tears, missing Ruger and honored that he was honored so.

Thank you, dear Mr. Koontz. I suspect you know exactly what that meant to all of us, and that is exactly why you did it.

Winning Anyway...

So, I may get into trouble here...of what kind, I have no idea.

I chose to "double blog" this one, meaning on both of my sites, since it is so important to me.

I have a favorite author (who doesn't?!)...and his name is Dean Koontz. You may have read some of his books, or maybe not. He's not for everyone, as my mother tells me every time I try to get her to read one, but I adore his writing style. The way he can create atmosphere, provoke philosophical thought and restore the faith and the profound beauty of the human race - he's a mesmerizing story-teller. You forget where you are for hours. He's got some skills, and a mansion in California to prove it! Point is, the guy's amazing.

Recommendation: Two newer ones of his called "The Darkest Evening of the Year" or "The Good Guy"....or two older ones called "Lightning" or "Watchers". I can go on and on...but if you like these and come back for more, I can talk more then. ;)

I guess part of the reason I am shamelessly plugging is for the props; in fear of reprimand, I'm hoping this makes the blow a little softer.

Anyhoo, I entered a contest on his web site titled "Trixie's Super Dog Contest". See, Trixie was Dean's beloved "Doggie Daughter", and they lost her to cancer last summer. I agonized with them and their loss, until Ruger passed...and his website is part of the reason I have made it this far through the grieving process. He keeps her memory alive by writing books and newsletters as her...it's super cute and if you ever get a chance to check it out, Trixie's part of his website is here. (Yes, that's me, sucking up again, hoping to shave off time in the slammer for the forthcoming criminal atrocity.) Trixie was an awesome Golden Retriever who was trained and served as a Companion Dog for a disabled person (working through CCI or Canine Companions for Independence). After a few months in service, her joints started to act up with the increased effort and she was retired to live with the Koontz family for the rest of her life. Trixie has three books out now, with more to come...but her newest just arrived, titled "Bliss To You: Trixie's Guide to a Happy Life". Adorably written and is a great lesson in living a more simple, "dog-like" life.

Dean frequently writes about Goldens in his books since the arrival of Trixie and I think that is what sealed the deal for him as my favorite author. He is a genuine dog lover, a dog "person", I have called them, and without meeting him, I like the guy already. So, knowing how he feels about Trixie, and knowing it matched my feelings for Ruger, it seemed inevitable that I would enter this contest, telling him about our baby.

The contest asked you to write about a heroic virtue of your dog, in 75 words or less. That is a serious challenge. I had so much to say, it was hard to condense all I felt about him, everything I wanted to convey in a mere 75 words. I took it as a writing challenge to tell the world about Ruger. So, I condensed a previously written poem, written the week after his death, to the minimum requirement. I included a picture and sent it along to be judged. Prizes were offered to the top 3 winners and then also to 7 runners-up. My only hope was to have the poem published on his site. That way, the legacy of Ruger would have another venue.

After fretting for 2 weeks, I learned that there were almost 500 entries to the contest. I thought..."well, that means I haven't a shot in the world!" I figured my poem would get lost in the pile and not make it's way back out. Today, I found out who the winners were...and....

It wasn't me.

BUT! I was a runner-up!

Since there were so many entries, so many good ones, Dean himself chose to increase the amount of winners to 5 Top winners and 12 runners-up. And I became one of them! Yay! Go Ruger!

I'm actually surprised that I did win, because after reading the top 5, all of the dogs were of the kind that had overcome serious adversity. It wasn't a writing contest, it was a "super dog" contest - what makes your dog a super dog - all about the dog, not the writing skills (my bad) and the winners were quite deserving. It makes me happy to see so many devoted pet parents out there. I'm happy to be in such good company!

I think the most exciting part is that Dean himself read my poem, actually sat down and read something I wrote, and then chose it to be one of the winners. That gave me goosebumps. My writing Idol read and accepted my "submission"; Wow. I think that just made my year. I'm not proud of myself very often, but I have to say that this made the short list.

Second, and most importantly, it means he connected with the feelings I expressed about Ruger, that he understood what we were going through. I wanted so badly for the poem to be posted, but only the Top winners were given that honor.

SO....and here's where I go to jail...I'd like to post it here. Let me say that I believe this poem now belongs to Dean Koontz and his sponsors (I wasn't sure what the rules would be for the runners-up, if I still lose the rights), and I am posting it here, giving them full credit for owning it. *crossing fingers* ...and I hope that's enough for the legal mumbo jumbo types... I wrote it, but it belongs to them, but it was never posted, so hopefully they will go easy on me for that very reason. We'll see! If I stop blogging for months, you'll know what happened...

After much ado, here it is - my tribute to Ruger...in 75 words or less.


Our Gentle Shepherd

Impossibly

Reminiscent of a great maned lion

Our Gentle shepherd traversed his life with quiet pride.

Obedient and strong, strong-willed and gentle,

Regal to the very end

He showed us how to live

More than ever in the way he died.

Silently suffering, never betraying his demanding illness

Those last sweet kisses we were privileged to enjoy

Imparting lessons in passion, innocence and play

The purest form of instruction one could ever hope to receive.

In honor of Ruger, our sweet baby boy

We miss our child more than words can describe.
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