30 Reasons Boy Puppies are like Human Boys

My hubs and I have always said we didn't need a dog because we have 6 puppies of our own.  It was always a funny joke, but the last week has proven it to be very accurate.  For some reason, I am thinking either masochism or sheer insanity, I decided to give in and get my boys a puppy.  You know I just didn't have enough on my plate with six human boys, one still an infant, one in his destructo terrible two phase, one still in the bossy fit throwing phase, and three with homework, scouts and sports, however Enzo did start sleeping through the night.  I must have not been feeling adequately exhausted or something.  My husband even tried to talk me out of it, but I was feeling guilt as my boys have not had a lot of their dad in their life lately due to work/travel and I thought a puppy would be a great filler/distraction.  Well, if you have had a puppy you know better than I did that puppies are definitely time fillers and distracting.  I got an idea in my head though and sometimes that is a dangerous thing.  I was on a mission and I found a puppy, went to meet him, and fell in love with his cute sweet little furry face.  Puppies have that same weapon as human babies, cuteness.  (point number 1).

p.s. Taking photos of puppies just might be more difficult than taking photos of children. 

This is Busby.  He is burrowing his way into our hearts and becoming a new member of our family despite the nipping, underwear stealing, toy snatching, house pooping, whining, barking habits he has.  He is a Border Collie, Poodle mix, or a Border Doodle.  I personally like Colloodle or Bordoodle better, but thats just me.  He is a mischievous little ball of energy that follows me around like I am his new mommy.     

As I have been consumed with figuring out puppiness in my life, I have had to laugh a few times while comparing him to my human puppies.  While some of these would be true for girls as well as boys, I only have boys and I am guessing they are a bit more like puppies, but perhaps not.  From here on out human boys will be referred to as HB and puppy boys will be referred to as PB.

1.    HB and PB as babies are both so adorable you can't help but say ahhh.

2.    HB and PB both drool excessively when teething. 

3.    HB and PB both tend to pee and poop on the floor if not diapered or trained.  

4.    HB and PB both chew on everything in order to discover what it is.  

5.    HB and PB can both be bribed and trained with food and treats.  

6.    HB and PB are both gross, poop fascinates them, and they are obsessed with their boy parts.  

7.    HB and PB both bolt at some phases in their life at the mention of a bath.

8.    HB and PB both love to play under my bed.    

9.    HB and PB both are excited easily and usually play too rough.  

10.  HB and PB both get into absolutely everything.

11.  HB and PB both destroy everything. (we just can't have anything nice!)

12.  HB and PB both whine and whine when they have to stop playing and go to bed.

13.  HB and PB both get super stinky.  

14.  HB and PB both love to tease and will not give up.  

15.  HB and PB both love to follow around their momma nipping at her heels while she is busy.

16.  HB and PB both want what someone else has only as long as they protest.  

17.  HB and PB both have an unexplainable amount of energy laced with challenging aggression.  

18.  HB and PB both have an obsession with shoes, my heels in particular.  

19.  HB and PB both get jealous if you are looking at someone else instead of them.    

20.  HB and PB are both escape artists and don't always come when called.

21.  HB and PB both go through a biting phase. 

22.  HB and PB both have to see what you are doing behind their head when combing their hair.  

23.  HB and PB both constantly search for food.   

24.  HB and PB both growl when confronted.  

25.  HB and PB both love kisses (sometimes too many) and snuggles. 

26.  HB and PB both insist on being present while you are using the bathroom.   

27.  HB and PB both love to play in the dirt. 

28.  HB and PB both love sticks.

29.  HB and PB both collect rocks.  (I found three rocks in Busby's kennel the first day and witnessed him find two of them outside.)

30.  HB and PB both love being praised and will repeat any action you make a big deal (especially if there are treats involved.) 

I am sure there are so many more that I have forgotten.  

This week I have seen Busby chew on the leg of my kitchen chair and then minutes later watched Enzo chew on it as well.  

Busby and Enzo both try to grab diapers while you are changing them.  Busby and Enzo both chew on diapers if they can sneak them off the floor before they make it to the garbage.  

Busby and Enzo both eat food dropped on the floor, the pantry is their favorite room in the house as my kids tend to drop snacks out as they are getting them (under the kitchen table is of course another favorite).  

Busby is so jealous of all of Enzo's and Ramsey's toys, they are always fighting over them.  I can hand him several of his toys, he will play with them for a second and then drop them and walk over to see what Enzo or Ramsey have and steel it.  Ramsey and Enzo are also always trying to steel Busby's toys as well.  Enzo thinks all of Busby's chew toys and bones are great teathers.  

All of my boys are drawn to the sound of a door opening.  If someone else is outside, they all want to be and Busby is no exception.  

This week I don't know how many times Beckham has made someone cry while playing too rough, and Busby has made at least three people cry for the same reason.  

Since we got Busby Ramsey has started barking and growling more ( the key word being more).  The other day Enzo wanted something I had and he growled at me.  

Busby likes to lay on my feet while I am cooking or doing my hair.  Ramsey, Enzo and Rylan all play at my feet when I am doing those things as well.  

Enzo is learning how to do kisses and usually ends up slobbering all over and making you feel like he just ate your face.  Busby's kisses are similar.  

If Rylan starts running back and forth, Gavin and Ramsey and even Cohen immediately join.  Busby thinks this sis the best game ever and takes it to the next level by nipping at your clothes.  

Ramsey loves to steal my silky underwear and I have to now keep my closet shut so that Busby won't do the same, however he isn't partial to just silky or underwear for that matter.  

I had a pair of boots with a heel that my boys broke a few years ago and this week Busby broke a pair of my heels as well.  

The similarities are hilarious (and frustrating and overwhelming and ya).  I truly do have 7 puppies now or 7 boys, however you want to look at it.  And I repeat, yes, I must be a crazy person.       

Lost in my mind ...

I write for me, sadly sometimes what I write is really revealing and depressing.  Wow, can we get some sunshine in here.  Some rainbows and unicorns or something!  When they said, whoever they are, that the mind is a powerful thing, they were not joking. I keep meaning to read some of those positive thinking books, but I am always way too tired and never make it past the thought.  Yes, the mind is crazy powerful.  I am ashamed to admit that my mind has been casting a negative shadow all over the place with all of its power.  I am ashamed to admit that being a mom has been really hard lately and that I secretly keep wishing for "these days" to be done.  Then I get a little reminder that "these days" should be happy cherished days as every woman that has been here tells me, "you will miss these days, so cherish them."  Deep down I know this to be true.  So this is me cherishing :)

My baby is 7 months old and already I can feel his babyness slipping away from me.  Babies of the family are babies of the family forever for a reason.  Us mamas, myself included have a hard time letting go of that last baby.  Even though we are physically and mentally ready to be done with our child bearing years, letting go of that last sweet baby is excruciatingly hard!  My Enzo is crawling, he thinks he wants to be held all the time, but then he is wrenching away from me in every direction to reach something he sees.  He used to sleep so good cuddled next to me and now he needs his own space to get a full night (or nap).  He is finally sleeping again at night, so good that my sleep is interrupted because I'm about to burst if I don't feed him.  I even had to leave a hysterical dream where I was joking about childish things with Michael Cera and his girlfriend so that I could wake Enzo up and force feed him.  I'm having to let go of little things already!

My two year old Ramsey Rams has accepted the fact that he is a big kid and only comes for cuddles when he is sad.  He wants to go outside with the big kids.  He wants to go to school with the big kids.  He wants to play with the big kid toys.  His favorite toys are legos, not the baby duplos, but real legos and he can't wait, I'm sure, until his little two year old mitts can hold them without smashing them apart.  He loves being outside and jumping on the trampolines, yes we have two.  I love watching him with his big bros because he just acts like he is one of them, holding the three foot long nerf machine gun and all.   However, he has little interest in talking or potty training, so I have that to hold on to!

My Rylan just turned five, five! He will be in kindergarten this year and cannot wait.  He has tried to stay my baby despite the two new brothers kicking him out of his desired place, and he is finally starting to accept that he's a big kid.  He still loves to follow me around as I do things and play role play games that he imagines up in his cute little head, prompting me what to say every few minutes.  He rarely leaves my side, but when he does, I can feel him growing a little more each time.  He can successfully go play with neighbors without slugging anyone, this is huge.  Every morning he asks me if he gets to go to kindergarten now as he thinks he's too big and too smart for preschool.  He is definitely getting big, even starting to wear his big brothers clothes.  While I've needed him to become a little less dependent, I will miss his constant need for my attention and I hope he will always want to hang out with me.

Gavin is almost seven going on twenty.  This kid is seriously an adorable, hysterical, painfully difficult enigma.  One moment he will be sweet and so eager to please, helping while asking in depth questions or telling funny stories.  He loves praise and approval, however, the next minute he will be so stubbornly defying everything that he is supposed to be doing, no matter how many threats.  Whether it be with his silly (yet frustrating) antics like going limp on the floor giggling as you are trying to help him tie his shoes or his incessant demand that something is just too hard for him ( you know like picking up a bucket of toys or adding 3+2).  He blew his teachers away this year with his reading and writing progress.  He jumped 25 reading levels in three months.  He is testing as high as the first grade level tests will allow.  He could barely write his name at the beginning of the year and can now, when he wants to, write a full page story with correct spelling and it's even legible.  Now he just needs to decide he's ready to conquer math the same way.  It's all on his terms.  This kid can carry on a full conversation with any adult, and you can see the brilliance in his eyes, the wheels always spinning, summing up the situation, and planning his next move.  Slowly he is even figuring out that if he gives a little he may even get what he wants without a fight.

Cohen, my golden boy, my nine year old, my sweet tender heart, my quiet one has given me a little turn the past few weeks.  He's coming out of his shell, getting a little rebellious, but only a little, and he is sillier and happier than he's been in a while.  I love watching him gain some confidence and definitely some joy.  I love that his stories are about all his friends instead of all his bad days.  He just finished playing his first basketball season and it was so fun to watch him find his stride snd aggression.  He even had the courage this week to tell his crush that he liked her.  So cute!  My favorite part is that he came home and told me all about his "big news" and how she called him, "her guy".  This guy is almost always helpful, I had to get on him about not doing his jobs for about a week and the poor guy retreated so deep inside himself I thought I might cry.  He loves his baby Enzo so much that when he found out I was taking him with me out of town, he cried because he would miss him so much.  When we returned he immediately asked if he could get him out of the car and hold him.  He is so sweet and growing into a funny, confident kid.

My oldest, Beckham, is eleven.  He is becoming an amazing young man.  He is severely responsible even though he doesn't really love all of the responsibility.  He is respectful and learning that dealing with hard things and hard people is sometimes part of life.  He actually loves learning, not all of it (math), but most of it he can talk about with excitement and his retention for facts is amazing.  This kid remembers just about everything he reads.  I need to tell him how Einstein was horrible at math and had the worst handwriting, but was brilliant.  He is my Einstein (one of them at least).  I'm sad that he is so big, so fast, but I love our relationship.  I love that he talks to me, even if sometimes it is describing in detail his missions on his video games. I love that we can joke around and that he tells me about the time he spends with friends.  I love that he loves so many things.  I love that he is learning that I am on his side, even when sometimes I have to question him and talk seriously about life.  I love that he loves and needs his dad.  He is one of my best friends, but as much as he loves me, he is still a daddy's boy.  I hope that he continues to be my friend throughout his teen years.  I hope he keeps talking to me and asking question.  I hope that he knows that I appreciate him and will always be on his side.  I hope one day he will even be ok to talk about girls with me.

I love that I can write so many positives even though my day-to-day doesn't always feel this way.  I love that positive thinking truly can make things better.  I love that even though I have been feeling grey that I can pull myself out and find the reason for all this mess we call life.  I love my boys.  I love and miss my husband more than words can describe.  I love that I can turn my negative shadow on its side and find the good buried beneath the hard.  And that's why I write.

Salmonella

So, everyone has their quirks right?  We are all a little weird in our own way I think, or at least I try to convince myself to make me feel better.  Ever since I was a child I have had this thing with salmonella.  This very real phobia of catching it and dying a most horrible death.  I am not sure if I read an article as a kid that freaked me out.  Which is very possible because I read everything as a kid.  Or, if it was that commercial where the woman is cleaning the kitchen with a sponge and it suddenly transforms into a raw chicken breast and she keeps smearing it all over the counters leaving a salmonella trail of slime.  I think the commercial just confirmed and more deeply ingrained my fear.

Not to mention, my baby nephew somehow got salmonella poisoning this year, it's a real thing people.

Well, anyone who has cooked poultry of any kind with me knows I am a hand washing, surface and kitchen tool sanitizing nazi during the process.  My mom who is an especially clean person discovered first hand my strictness when it comes to salmonella while we prepared the turkey for Thanksgiving last year.  She was trying to kill us all with her cross contaminating, salmonella slimed hands touching everything without washing them in between every step as I insisted :) (love you mom, but gross!). I do think I gained some followers that night in my war against salmonella, at least some more avid hand washers, and Clorox wipey users. 

Tonight while smashing chicken in a tightly zipped ziplock bag for chicken cordon bleu, all my years of extra precaution and sanitization may have been in vain.  Somehow, perhaps due to my over zealous slamming of the meat mincing hammer, the tiniest non-visible hole was created and a miniscule  (yet still salmonella infested, I am sure) piece of chicken was flung into my mouth!  GAG!!! I immediately spat and gagged and (after washing my hands of course) rinsed my mouth out with hot water followed by an antibacterial oil rinse and more spitting as my eleven year old sat there watching in wonder.  He already knows I'm crazy, but even he looked a little worried.  I am still slightly sickened and worried I may not make it through the night.  The nausea, although my mental nausea is strong, still has not left me.  It truly was one of the most horrifying cooking experiences I have ever encountered, and I have exploded a pot of mashed potatoes in my face before.  That just tells you how bad it was.  

I figured I better tell my story just in case this actually becomes my most irrational fear and actually is how I die.   Not to be cliche, but wouldn't that be ironic.  To quote Alanis Morissette, "a little too ironic, don't ya think?" 

*Disclaimer:  While I do fear salmonella, if you do not possess the ability to sense sarcasm, this may have been lost on you, however, I am a little nauseous. 

Light through the Haze

So much fear and pain

How does this world remain

All the evil that surrounds 

So many broken and ground

Into the earth like shattered glass

Seems too many cracks 

To fix and glue the pieces 

Back into you and me 

Everyone is bleeding, aching 

No one is safe from the pain and 

Wrenching heart break 

The stress of it is real 

No longer just a fear 

The darkness resonates 

Around each and every day 

Some can't escape 

Surrounded by the unnameable 

Shameable horrifying life 

They live still fighting 

Tears crying pleading 

And begging for mercy 

Hoping for light in this smoke 

Thick as a fog weighing down 

Blinding eyes full of more

Seeking anything but the dreary 

Grey sea they are swimming

Seeing red through the haze 

Feeling love in the gaze 

Of the One carrying 

Arms surrounding 

Lifting bodies from dragging 

Touching hearts that are pleading 

For peace and for hope 

For more than this earth

Finally love finds its way

Some people are still good today 

Even if those aren't the stories 

They are there, hands folded 

In prayer for strangers trials 

They weep begging God please 

Help all those in need. 

Bless those with illness 

Sorrow and pain. 

Heal the innocent and weak 

Forgive those who still keep 

Trying to be better than before. 

Guide us all to do more, 

Lift our hands to repeat 

Thy will in this street

Full of darkness and deceit.  

Hearts still beat for more than 

Money, power and greed. 

So much fear and pain 

Enough love and good still remain 

To keep this world from the flame.