Old Dog, New Tricks

All my life I have been fascinated with beehives, ant hills, hornet nests - microcosms of efficiency and teamwork. I like to poke at them, scrap off the tops and watch the occupants scramble through chaos to restore order.

Remember this as I introduce ... Tag.

You see 'round 'bout September or October I realized my family had settled itself into a nice little groove. Some might say rut, but with three kids, two cats, two full time jobs, a rut is just fine. Our schedules were smooth, our kids were healthy, our house was in decent shape. And that's when I started thinking about a dog, started thinking about poking the beehive, digging in the ant hill and watching us scramble to restore order.

I have to admit things happened fast once we (I) made the decision and we soon found ourselves at a kennel in north Dallas meeting the dog. I won't be smug, I'm sure we'll have our share of issues, but he seems like a good dog. He's patient with the kids, house trained, calm, likes walks and enjoys laying at your feet watching TV. In short, our kind of dog.

Now if our cats would just come back ...

Thank You Kellogg's

When was the last time you enjoyed a bowl of cereal this much?

At Year's End

I've been struggling for a few weeks now with things I try to write about, want to write about. I can't seem to muster the interest or creativity.

I don't enjoy being one of those bah-humbug, woe-is-me people, bemoaning my middle class life with my good job and healthy kids. I should be enjoying this time of year - the excitement and anticipation of Christmas and visitors and time off - and I am not.

So for the next couple of weeks I am turning my thoughts inward and spending some time getting my act together. If you could sum up every New Year's Resolution I've made it would be to get my act together. I'm trying it again this year, a little early maybe. But nobody is going to change the things that bog me down so. Except me.

To my few readers, I hope you have a joyous holiday. I hope you are safe and surrounded by people and things you love. I hope the spirit of the holiday and the meaning of Christmas can help us all be thankful for what we have. And what we have left. I hope we can all face the new year with renewed hearts and spirits and minds. I hope.

All I Want For Christmas Is a King-Sized Bed

We've fallen into a bad habit with Abby. She goes to bed just fine, but when she wakes up, somewhere between 1 and 3 a.m., I bring her into our bed. No questions asked. No rocking or patting. I stumble in, pick her up, stumble back and fall into bed. We are back to sleep in seconds.

On one hand, I'm not worried about this trend. For all the pacing and fretting and worrying we did over Sam and Jake's sleeping, they both sleep just fine. In their own beds. Through the night. It will work itself out. Plus, she's such a little muffin to sleep with. She cuddles and pats and whispers. And there is no better way to start your day than with a rosy-cheeked cherub who is so happy to see you. No morning breath. No morning grumpies. Just "Hey, it's you! I LOVE you!"

On the other hand ... I'm sure I don't sleep as well when she's in the bed with us. I know this because all the aforementioned cuddling and patting and whispering is done totally on my side of the bed. Many nights I sleep on a 10-inch strip of the bed, bookended by Abby's feet and the cat's butt.

So I've been thinking about a king-sized bed. One that could accommodate three or four of us plus the occasional cat. And then one of these days, Abby will sleep through the night in her own bed, and my king-sized bed will seem really empty.

Ho Ho Ho Hum

In an effort to jump start our Christmas spirit and trick the boys into better behavior I bought the Elf on the Shelf. If you haven't heard of it it is simply this stuffed elf (who's a little creepy actually) that sits around your house during the holidays. Each night you are supposed to move it to a different location and tell your kids that the elf returns to Santa nightly to report on their behavior. It comes with a little storybook, which says that before the elf can do his job you have to name him.

I put the elf out for the first time this morning. The kids were underwhelmed. But we read over the book at the breakfast table and as instructed, decided to come up with the elf's name. Sam suggested Charlie. Jake disagreed, loudly. Jake suggested Avery Moore (his girlfriend). Sam objected. (It's a girl's name!) I suggested a Star Wars name. Jake wanted White Mama. Sam finally agreed to Avery, but Jake had long changed his mind. Finally, mercifully, they came up with General Snowball.

We'll see what happens tomorrow when General Snowball turns up on the mantel or the bookcase. But as the song goes, "we need a little Christmas, right this very minute" because no one here seems to have the spirit. Maybe it's too early. Maybe it's too warm. Maybe there are too many layoffs and financial crises. Or, possibly my worst fear, that kids don't get that excited about Christmas anymore. Why should they really? They get just about anything they need and want throughout the year. My fault entirely, I know. But it just seems to me that I was really excited about Christmas as a kid. Barely contained, visible excitement.

I may not be a kid anymore but I need that right now.