A Walk to Remember

We walked to the library a couple of nights ago (I just LOVE that it is close enough to walk to!), and on the way back, Sammy fell asleep. And was he ever asleep! I couldn't wake him up. I tickled, bounced, even made his sleepy little body do a jig, and he remained solidly zonked. Now, why would I want to wake up a sleeping baby, you wonder. Because I didn't want him to wake up crying for his bedtime bottle (which he's too old for, some would say) at midnight and have to give it to him then. Much better to force-feed on my time schedule.

Anyway, it was a lovely trip. Just a hint of a chill in the breeze. I think Spring might finally be here! Not that I'm counting on it. I mean, this is Kansas. One just never knows around here.

Sammy's First Haircut

Griffin has always loved getting his hair cut (okay, so he didn't mind... too much), so we just naturally assumed Sammy would be the same way. I know, it hasn't worked that way with anything else; they are very different except for their mutual love of all things round. But we thought, maybe this once, we would be in luck. And it was almost true!

Sammy had a rocky start. When we put him on the nice soft booster seat they have for little ones, he started to kick and writhe and squirm in a desperate attempt to escape. And then, when they placed the brightly colored... what's that called... cloth? vest? hair jacket?... around his neck, he protested even more, and the hair stylist had to distract him with one of the tropical fish displayed on it while she fitted it and snapped it closed.

They had already started Griffin's haircut at this point, so I was trying to take pictures of both of them and yet focus on Sammy at the same time... the trials of having two. Griffin is an angel in the stylist's chair; he hardly moves. Which is great when they need him to be still, but doesn't come in quite so handy when they need him to bend his rigid little neck to one side. It's like a very thick, solid, strong brick wall -- oh wait, that's a line from "There's A Monster at the End of This Book" -- anyway, it's almost unmov(e?)able. But he is very well behaved, and sits very calmly, especially since he knows there is a sucker waiting for him at the end of the haircut.

Sammy's sucker couldn't wait until the end. I was trying desperately to hold him in place while the poor stylist cut haphazardly at whatever hair she could manage to grab between jerks of Sammy's head. I feared that there would be no hair left when she was through (which wouldn't have been too bad, considering it is usually a long time between haircuts for the boys), so I felt I needed to intervene.

"Do you have a sucker?!" I finally managed to ask between trying to take pictures and hold Sammy down. Mike was also doing a stellar job of keeping the little booger still. Actually, I don't know if I really helped all that much. But I think I stressed out about it enough that it seemed like I was helping.

"Yes!!!" the relief in the stylist's voice was evident. She hadn't thought of the sucker tactic. Maybe because of what she knew was bound to happen to it, which we had yet to learn.

Sammy was ecstatic! He loves suckers. Even if they have lots of freshly cut hair on them.

And he was such a good boy throughout most of the rest of the haircut.

As was Griffin, of course. Oh, and Mike. All the men needed haircuts. I didn't take pictures of Mike's though. I was too busy chasing two sticky, hair-covered boys through the salon.

Good times.

But Mommy!

So we're sitting at dinner the other night, and Mike and I are talking away. Actually, I am talking away, and Mike is listening, which is the typical scenario.


Griffin really wants to contribute to the conversation, so he is making noise, trying to get our attention away from each other and onto him. Well, I don't like to be interrupted. I like to be the center of attention, too, for goodness' sake!


"Griffin!!!" I shouted. I had to shout, because his noise-making was a few decibels louder than a jet plane flying directly over the dinner table.


The noises stopped.


"If you need to say something while Mommy and Daddy are talking," I proclaimed, "you don't just interrupt us, or make loud noises. You need to say "Excuse me!""


I was attempting to look parental and wise, instead of displaying how I really felt -- like an annoyed little girl.


Griffin stopped making noise, and was about to concede the point and say "okay"... his mouth had already formed into an "O"...


And then he stopped.


"But Mommy!" he exclaimed, with a look of confusion creeping over him, "I didn't burp yet!"

Don't Cry

A couple of nights ago, as Mike and I lay dozing -- I can't remember whether it was very late night or very early morning -- Sammy began to whimper in his crib. We could hear him tossing and turning, probably rubbing his sleepy little eyes. After a couple minutes of Sammy's sad little noises, we heard a tiny tired voice in the baby monitor.

"Don't cry, Sammy... I love you."

And Sammy stopped crying.

Our New Dog

Gordon's hair starts shedding in huge clumps in the spring, and he looks like he has some kind of wasting disease. His whole hind end starts losing all of the lighter colored hair, and the dark hair underneath shows where the big clumps of light hair have fallen out. I would imagine it is very itchy. And our carpets suffer too.

He is part Great Dane, part Golden Retriever, so I would imagine that this is the Golden Retriever part showing through. He has already outlived a lot of Great Danes, and he still acts like he has plenty of life in him! He turns 6 this month. Happy Birthday, Gordon!!

We got him a birthday present (actually, it was just to maintain oour sanity and hair-free carpet). It's the Shed-Ender, a professional de-shedding tool we saw on TV and bought at the As Seen on TV store. And does it ever work!! Every brush stroke resulted in a big clump of hair that was obviously coming from his undercoat. It pulled out all of the light clumps quite easily. It was time-consuming, partially because he is such a large dog and has SO much hair, and partially because of his Great-Dane-ness that causes him to be quite nervous and want to turn in circles and lick the brush and our hands and the leash we used to tie him onto a chair to keep him still.

But it all only took about two hours, which is actually a very short time compared to the time we would have spent cleaning up dog hair off of the floor if we hadn't brushed him. We had a "normal" dog brush, but it didn't get down to his undercoat very well, and would leave lots of hair that would work its way to the top. Brushing him would just make him shed even more for a few weeks while the leftover hair worked its way out.

As fascinating as this subject is, I think I'll stop here.

Let's just say that we have one very happy doggie. With a lot less hair.