Molly's Easter Feast

It started with the Easter candy.

Abby had her basket in her room, but wisely shut the door before we left for church on Sunday morning.  We came home, changed and left again for dinner with the family.  The door was left open.

Molly, being the wise dog that she is, found the basket while we were away.  We came home to discover the basket empty-which means she ate about 8 little eggs, a chocolate bunny, 2 marshmallow bunnies, and a pack of gum.  An entire pack of gum.

Fine, Molly.  Good luck with that.

Oh, but wait.  It gets better.

The next day, we went out for a few hours to see a movie with the kids.  I specifically moved the little bags of candy that the kids got from the family dinner further up on the counter, high enough away that she would never reach them.

Or so I thought.

We came home, saw wrappers all over the house and saw Molly hiding in shame.  I walked into the kitchen and found even more horror.

Two plastic containers were turned upside down on the kitchen floor, lids popped open, completely empty.  The contents that were missing?  Pepperoni puffs and chocolate chip cookies.

So, let us take a final count.  Easter chocolate, more Easter chocolate, pepperoni puffs, and chocolate chip cookies.  All within two days.

Molly acted fine. She had boundless amounts of energy (who wouldn't, after that much sugar?) and was having normal bathroom breaks.

Well, last night it finally caught up with her.

It started with the smelly farts.  We kept taking her out and she finally had diarrhea (yes, I am sure that you all want to know that).  I went to bed, but as I was falling asleep, I heard Nick express concern (that is my polite way of saying it) that he found poo in the loft.

I love how she never just has an accident.  It is multiple accidents.  Sprinkled all over the place with love.  So kind of her.

I cleaned it up the best that I could, considering that we were out of carpet cleaner.  Then we discovered another accident.  A lot of her special treats all through the downstairs bathroom.  Thankfully it is tile.  Except for the small cream colored rug.  Which is where she decided to leave the biggest deposits.

Finally cleaned everything up, took Molly out where she threw up and went again (oh, and slipped out of her collar and took off until we cornered her a few houses down), finally went to bed and Molly eventually followed us.  After the second fart woke us from our sleep, we took her out.  While walking back upstairs, I thought I noticed something on the living room floor.  I turned on the light and low and behold-more poop.  Lots of it.  On my cream colored carpet.

FYI-when you have kids and a dog, never have cream colored carpet.  Never.  Just don't do it.  Please.

So, around midnight, Nick drove to Kroger to get carpet cleaner and we attacked the floor the best that we could.  Then we put Molly in the downstairs bathroom and attempted to go to sleep.

Apparently, Molly did not agree with our decision.  She barked.  And barked.  And barked.

There was not kind language coming from our mouths last night.  There was discussion of how smart Molly's former owners were by letting her run away and how it would not be the worst thing in the world if the chocolate did her in.

I am not proud of it, but I challenge anyone to have a positive attitude at this point in the story.

Many attempts were made to sleep last night.  Every time we thought it was over, she would start again.  I think at some point she stopped.  Either that, or I just gave up and was in denial and slept through her yapping.

So, here we are this morning.  Constant trips outside for her, while the carpet cleaners are coming this afternoon.  The carpet guy was laughing at me on the phone.  You are hilarious, carpet guy.  Hilarious.

Oh, and just to clarify-Molly devoured her breakfast and is still following Noah around for possible crumbs.  Unbelievable.

Celebration

I was all set to go on my Leadership Retreat.  I had paid for it months in advance, had my carpooling system set up and had everything prepared for the family while I would be gone for the weekend.

Then I got the call.  My grandpa passed away.

We knew it was coming, but it happened more quickly than we expected.  I suppose that is often the case-no one is ever really ready for such a thing to happen.

My grandpa had been sick for awhile and knew his time was almost up.  Instead of being afraid or in denial, he knew where he was going and made sure that everyone heard one last "I love you."  Every holiday in the past year was extra special, with our thoughts on "is this the last one he will attend?"  As it turned out, this past Christmas was his last.  I remember saying good-bye to him and having that gut feeling that it would be the last time I would talk with him this side of Heaven.

Right before he passed away, he was in his chair in his living room, with his daughters and wife by his side.  They all talked with him and said that it was okay to go and to say hello to David (my cousin, who left this world too early twelve years ago).

How many people get that?  To be home, surrounded by loved ones, being told that it is okay to move on?  To know with certainty that he was about to see Jesus and leave his old and tired body behind?

After much discussion and not knowing when the funeral would occur, I still went on my retreat.  Halfway to Tennessee, I got the call that the calling hours would be that Sunday.  Here is where I am simply amazed and blessed by the people in my life.  The girls that I rode down with got up that Sunday morning at 5am to get me to the Knoxville airport on time, missing the rest of our training.  My husband drove to Akron with all of the kids and the dog to pick me up and continue on to PA for the calling hours.  And all of this done with patience and understanding.

While I was in Tennessee, I had a room with a beautiful view of the mountains.  As I stood there for the first time, admiring the view, I thought, "This is absolutely nothing compared to what my grandpa is seeing right now."

He is with Jesus.  This is not the end and we will see him again.  Where there are no more tears nor sadness.  All because of what was done so many years ago on the cross.

My family will be celebrating Jesus' resurrection tomorrow on Easter Sunday.  While this is one of my favorite days of the year, it is tiny compared to the celebration that awaits us in Heaven.  And my grandpa is already there, waiting for us to join him.

Hello World

Uh, yep.  I completely fell off the face of the blogging world, lately.  Funny thing is, I have all of these thoughts swirling around in my head, with the continual thought of "I need to write about that" in the background.

Yet, here I sit, months later, attempting to remember all of those memorable moments that I found worthy of print.  Now, where to start?

Today's post will be about me. Not my kids and their schedules, not my husband and his teaching/coaching life, not the dog and her need to chew things-but, just about me.

I have been feeling restless.  The long winter has made me long for spring and the ability to stay outside for hours.  This past weekend was amazing-soccer all day for two days and it reached the 80's.  The 80's, people.

Today, there is snow on the ground.  I really don't like Ohio sometimes.

It is more than the cold weather that is making me feel restless.  I have been feeling this way about how I look.  I have always felt pretty confident in who I am and try not to compare myself to other women (okay, so we all compare, but I really try not to do it often).  Lately, though, I have felt my age and suddenly have realized I am not 22 anymore.

Yes, I have been married for 12 years and have 3 kids, but I still feel like I am still in college.  Go ahead and laugh, people who are younger than me.  Your time will come.

Well, the strand of gray hair that keeps appearing on the top of my head tells a different story.  And the fact that every cookie or piece of bread (ah, bread) that I eat does NOT go away anymore, but permanently stays in my mid section is really quite frustrating.  Do not even get me started on how much weight I gained after eating my yearly treat of Daffins chocolate.

It used to be that I could blame the extra padding on just having a baby, but now that my "baby" is 3 1/2 years old, I have to accept responsibility and change my routine.  I can no longer eat what I want, I have to exercise consistently and I have to learn self-control.

Being a woman approaching her 40s is not all it is cracked up to be.  Unless you are a celebrity and have a personal trainer and chef.  Which I am not.

I now understand why so many of my friends are suddenly running marathons.

I am also trying to find balance.  Ugh-even hearing my spoiled western self say I need "balance" makes me angry.  Poor me-I have to balance my healthy children's sports schedules and homework while my loving husband works two jobs to provide for us.  I have a job that I love that is flexible so that I do not miss the important things, yet I need to find balance.

Yep-never mind.  I need to maintain the chaos.  That sounds better.

So, this "cookie denying, exercising more, maintaining chaos" mom will have more thoughts coming your way soon.