MiCasaLoca

Contemplating our Dogs, Briefly

Rory is our nice 3 year old female mutt who doesn’t have too many terrible vices. Sure, she loves to sit right next to the table and beg until I notice and tell her to leave...and she loves barking frantically at every little sound (causing Mari to jump and shriek), but she very gentle with children and obedient. Then there’s Echo. He’s our 17 month old mutt who loves digging holes, barking at strangers, chasing the cat, getting on the couch when no one is watching, and not coming when he’s called. Still, he has big brown eyes, wags his whole body to greet us, and when he gets into trouble, he lays down.

According to dog books, John, and experts, dogs use smell to identify each other. I usually assume this means smelling the back end. What I don’t understand is why Rory thinks that on a daily basis -and at random-she needs to lick Echo’s pee-pee. It’s not necessarily a pet peeve of mine, but I don’t understand how this behavior plays into "identification." She will be hanging out with him and then, in the next moment, decides to have a lick. It’s absolutely horrific and I try to stop her every time. John says she’s just identifying him, but I’m thinking...she knows who he was moments before, so why a lick...and why on the pee-pee instead of the rear end like all the other dogs do. Perhaps it’s a maternal instinct; she might think he needs a bath or the encouragement to go to the bathroom.

The "best" part about the whole licking thing of the pee-pee is often she thinks that I want to be nosed shortly afterwards. I know that dogs can have really gross behaviors, like finding a dead animal and rubbing their body in it, or eating other dogs’ poops...but this one is something I have never observed before (nor want to). I have seem Echo lick himself at random, but I supposed he’s just cleaning himself...or making sure that we haven’t removed that part of his anatomy as well. He’s not obsessive about licking that area...and probably doesn’t need to since she manages to clean it on a daily basis for him. He also seems to think that I want to be licked right after he licks himself. To them, we’re just a couple of dogs as well-so why not? They like to sniff to see if we are who we are on occasion, but for the most part, they leave us alone. We probably emit enough smell for them to identify us...and besides, we don’t smell very good anyway (we smell too much like soap and perfume-that’s yuck to a dog). I can’t imagine what the dogs are going to do when Gabito starts toddling around in his diapers....

Confessions as to why I need a strong man in my life…

(This actually occurred on Jan 7, but it took the "typepad" account to recognize me for 4 days of attempted logins.  I suppose it was having a gliche)

This morning things were moving along smoothly.  MariCarmen was dressed, the dogs were behaving, and it was almost time to leave.  It was time to bring the dogs in.  I stepped out to call Rory who obediently came in.  Echo tends to ignore anyone who calls him; we have been working on this problem, but he does come when he sees me (and joyfully so).  I step out onto the front stoop so he could see that it was me calling and my socks absorb the wetness from the mat below.   I wasn’t wearing any slippers, as I was about to put my shoes on.  Echo comes in and I lean on the door to take off my wet (and muddy) socks. The last person who lived here thought that a chain on the door would stop people from entering.  It now became jammed between the door and the wood.  For five minutes I pull on the knob, but it is stuck.  A moment of panic…if I can’t get the front door open and the back door can’t be opened (it’s been giving me havoc lately)… then we are stuck in the house.  I could just see myself calling Mark, my employer…

“Hello Mark.”

“Hi Mary Ann.”

“I can’t come in today.”

“Is Mari sick?”

“No, I can’t get the door open.”  I think that would be the weirdest reason ever to not show up to work.  Mari suggested we go through a window.  Good girl! 

Fortunately, the back door decided to behave and let me out.  I couldn’t imagine trying to push the dogs through the window when they needed to go potty.  I didn’t want to call John and have him come home and open the door, but I really think that is what it’s going to take:  the force of a strong man.  I went around to the front and threw my pregnant self at the door, but even my weight gain didn’t budge it.  It’s unlocked right now, but I doubt anyone could really get in. I didn’t kick at the door (next natural action) as I didn’t want to have a dent in the door.  Now I know why the last occupants put the chain on the door…not just to keep people from coming in, but also to keep people from going out. 

Delayed addition to this blog, which occurred on Jan 10:  As a joke, I locked Mari out of the house with the chain (she was waiting on me to change so we could go for a walk with the dogs).  The chain, in theory, is supposed to allow someone to open the door and see outside while keeping the door from opening fully.  Supposedly, the person on the outside cannot come in or remove the chain –but could technically break the chain by charging at the door.  In all the years the chain has been up, it has never been tested.  Mari, nearly 4.5 feet tall and almost 8, teased me…and then took the chain off…from outside. 

While I am actually here...and have a moment to blog (but not really a moment, more like a stolen moment)....

I have a little problem. Please tell me how to handle this in a very gentle way. We have a little girl who has become a bit clingy...would that be the correct word? Mari isn’t clingy, like babyish...but she has had some sleep issues among other things. Part of it has been wonderful...but this is part of the reason as to why I haven’t been able to blog. Mari doesn’t want to go to sleep at night in her bed...she wants to make our part-time family bed into a full time affair. Tonight it is 10:20 p.m. Mari had been reading "The Witches" and was fine until just before bedtime. Now she is scared to go to sleep and wants to sleep in our bed. Obviously, I should put her in our bed and just let her sleep there, but she doesn’t want to go without me. It seems almost unfair that I have to go to bed early just to get her to go to sleep...so I did the most selfish but practical thing I could think of....let her stay up until I am ready to go to bed, then get her up at her usual time. Maybe by tomorrow night she will go to sleep at her regular time...in her own bed. I am mostly worried as I don’t want her to have jealous feelings (though I know they will come, if they haven’t already appeared, which I think they have) about the new baby, but as my belly grows, the queen size bed has shrunk. John has been understanding about the additional pillows, and there’s just no room for a pint size human to sleep in our bed night after night...which she didn’t do until we came back from Florida. My biggest worry isn’t so much about the size of my belly now, but the fact that our daughter will be told one day that she can’t sleep in the bed...and then she will wake up and see her little brother sleeping next to me (an oops-I-fell-asleep-while-nursing, like how I used to fall asleep while nursing her). It doesn’t matter how much I will try to explain in the simplest of terms...it’s still going to cause a bit of terrible feelings...which is why I am not pushing her too hard right now to go to her bed (though I should, right? Like starting tomorrow?) I am very confused as to how to handle this issue gently. Thoughts?

Clean Houses and Other Myths

I am sure that if this blog has been read from the start, the realization that a move from one place to another can be difficult on anyone, regardless of how organized a person can be. I can’t imagine how a person manages a move when they are lazy or unorganized. Of course, this idea probably isn’t on the mind of the unorganized or lazy to begin with. It’s the rest of us that are constantly trying to achieve a state of organization that can only truly occur in three different ways. I will elaborate in each of these ways momentarily, but if there are any other ways that can create a clean and organized living space, please email me your wonderful ideas! Also, I think it is important for somebody to actually blog these ideas for everyone to read for free rather than having to purchase a book or magazine that states the way to become clutter free.  I know my loving parent really didn't go over exactly as to how I could become clutter free;  I suppose they thought I would just either a.) learn the hard way, or b.) by observing them.  It would have been nice if someone had told me how it should be done...oh, say, about 10 years ago.

Method 1:

(Most simplistic way). As soon as you have your first place, don’t unpack anything until you have the right amount of shelves, baskets, containers, and labels to sort through the first box. Then, from that day forward, everything has a place. This is a very simple way to become and stay organized; unfortunately, as soon as you move in with someone else, that person has to be just as dedicated or the whole "mission" will fail.

Method 2:

(Not for pack rats). Think of your space is an open area. Keep only the absolute bare necessities. Think like a minimalist. This way, there’s way less to pick up, keep organized, and dust around. Do you really need a whole set of serving spoons when you can use one over and over for each dish? After all, eventually the broccoli casserole and the red potato stew are going to be mixed in your stomach...why not on your plate? Think even more simple...do you really need to have a towel for every day of the week? What if everyone in the family had only one towel that they used all week? A towel is generally used to dry a persons body after a shower...so the towel stays relatively clean (unless one forgets to use soap) and doesn’t need to be replaced until the week’s end when it’s laundry time (actually, I believe my sister might be utilizing this idea). I know that this might be a very simplistic approach to living, but it would certainly cut down on the amount of time spent on laundry, cleaning, dusting, folding, shifting things around the house, and putting items away. Unfortunately, I doubt that there are a large audience for this kind of living. Not only does the idea require a person to be highly selective for what possessions must be eliminated, consumerism would die if every person only needed one picture of the family and only one television in the house.

Method 3:

("Most-often-used" route) Here is a method that, at least in theory, should work. Regardless as to why the rooms were originally destroyed, one room is to be cleaned at a time. The rule of thumb is "one room at a time." Literally. And this method does work. I have proven it to have worked. Of course, it worked for me when I lived in a one bedroom apartment in Texas with a 10 month old who took naps and couldn’t climb the baby gate. Take all the items that do not have a "home" in that room, and move it to the next. Clean the room. Organize it. Don’t work on any other room until that room is finished. This is a great idea that actually works especially if you have a lot of time on your hands. Unfortunately, most of us do not have the time to devote ourselves entirely to one room and finish it, especially if the books and papers were getting busy and have now multiplied like bunnies. Also, if there are kids in the house, while one is locked away busily cleaning that room, the little Angels (I would have used "Indians" but I didn’t want to offend anyone) are in another room guzzling chlorox while setting the Christmas tree on fire. Or, one takes the kids into the room and attempt to busy them with something, like coloring. Unfortunately, God, or human genetics have created an off switch in children where they somehow know that this once very fun activity of coloring is now just a way to keep them out of trouble...and thus, the activity is no longer appealing. But look at how those crayons look on that new book over there...or the wall....So really, this 3^rd method works best after the kids go to bed, or to Granmama’s, or to college.

The fourth Method that was not listed above as it is the most insane approach actually works the best for our family. This method works well because we have actually been using all three methods in some combination or another. Before we buy, I always ask (aloud, how annoying), are we sure we don’t have another one of those at home? Do we really need it or is it just excess? Then, when we move, I try to not unpack our boxes until I am sure we have a home for everything. Sometimes I make a "home" for a place only to change it later. We are terrible pack rats, but it’s okay because I still regret having thrown out that rope that I now desperately need so I am sure that hanging onto that extra basket (even if the handle is a tad bit broken) will come in handy for something later on. I can’t really say that we use method 2 too much as we really do have a lot of stuff, but for many years we did keep our extras down to a minimum. I believe that for the last nine years of marriage, we had only two sets of sheets for our bed until our last purchase. I digress to what the fourth method is....

The fourth method (Drum Rolls) is to steadily pick up from each room a little bit at a time. Unfortunately, this method causes people to lose steam quickly, accept the disaster, and label it "comfortable living within realistic measures," hence, bills shoved in between cookbooks and shoes left in dark corners in the living room as only "starters" to the madness. This method, I believe, is the most popular method as anybody could readily agree; it is more fun to go watch tv or read a book that enable any of the first three methods. So even the really truly "lusting-for-an-organized-life" people may opt for this 4th way while buying hoards of "do-it-yourself" magazines that show immaculately organized houses with lists of what to buy to make yours look like the mag’s picture.

I say, the day you can’t see the floor, and have forgotten the color of your furniture is the day you have one big yard sale.

I hope this will possibly, at least, make some people laugh at their own created world of insanity.  I truly believe that I "got" myself into this jam of too much...I can slowly weed out the stuff that I really don't need, and organize the rest of it.  One desperate mother wants to give up; another mom gives up on housework (Dec 9th entry).  And I know I read someone's blog about how she couldn't find her desk, but I am having a hard time finding it again.

Scary Basement Part 2 (otherwise known as OCD)

Thursday’s Report:

John and I were in the basement late Tuesday night.  I suppose the only explanation for my sudden desire to at least pick out some boxes that could really be unpacked was my “nesting” instinct that John so dearly labels my insane choice of timing.  It was past 11 and I had mopped the seven pee spots that Rory had decided she would leave. There were seven as I had been smelling an odd smell for quite some time, but it is so damned dark down there, I couldn’t see where the light bulb was hanging to even turn the small light on.  Before my last blog about this basement, I didn’t even know we had a second light bulb.  It wasn’t until our little adventure with a flashlight and a blown circuit that I discovered that there was even such a thing as a second light bulb in the main room.  I was also very surprised to see the seven spots…I know that it had been quite awhile since we had been able to see in the basement…which would be before the mountain of boxes that came, so I am guessing the peeing wasn’t all at once.  Rory has proven, much to John’s dismay, in the last 3 years that she will never be a dog that we can trust to be left alone during the day while we are out.  He kept wanting to give her chances and he is truly a sweetheart for his attempts, but after picking up every last book, magazine, toy, plant, and other item from the floor, and then arriving home to find the window mantle and Bob Marley CD chewed up (which came from a CD shelf) I said my patience for that sort of behavior was G-O-N-E.  So, whenever John says I have more patience than he, I may in some areas, but not with disobedient (or bored) dogs.  So I suppose the first time Rory peed it was because she really couldn’t help it, but after she realized that there wasn’t to be any scolding, she decided that it would be a regular habit.  John said he had mopped up the peeing before, but I was definitely tired of the idea of it, so Tuesday night I was determined to uncover the crate so it could be used.  I had said that we would crate both dogs when we moved into the new house, but it had been over 2 months and neither of us had taken the time to find the second crate.  So at 11 at night, with John quite upset that I was dismantling the mountain-but who wouldn’t leave my side as he knows I would lift anything that got in my way, no matter how heavy-I took down enough boxes to unearth the second crate.  I don’t understand why this has to be a problem.  There are a few pet peeves in my life that are really quite simple.  If you need to pee, do so outside, in the potty, or in a diaper.  The floor, the clean clothes, and any old newspaper or blanket will not do.  There is a rule to this exception:  children.  When a child is learning to go potty, or anytime under that particular age, than I am very understanding that accidents happen.  Otherwise, the pee must be prevented immediately.  I will not just sit idly by and let a dog think peeing in the house on the floor is okay.  In fact, I cannot understand why there are others in my lives that are very tolerant of this idea.  I suppose that is the way it is with close-minded people.  A close-minded person cannot perceive why another person would do or say such a thing….Whoever would have thought that I would label myself close-minded, but in this case I am!  I am very unwilling to think that it is just okay to live with a dog that pees and not even consider how to stop her.    To not even think or plan of a way to stop Rory from peeing in the basement is just a thought that I cannot fathom.  Why would anyone want to have their dog pee everywhere?  Maybe I am a little on the extreme, but then why even consider taking the dog outside to “potty”.  If accidents happen all the time when the owner is away, why not let the accidents just continue when the owner is home?  I am sure this is a very close-minded thought…

Anyway, finally, my basement is a little less scary.  It now isn’t quite so dark, and it’s not smelly, well, hardly…and the light isn’t blocked by a mountain anymore.  I actually find it a bit of a joy to go down as I can really truly “see the light of day” in both aspects; the windows are uncovered and the mountain of boxes is slowly being whittled away.

Scary Basement Part 1

I know that I have a series explaining how we got the Land Rover and what all occurred while it was traveling from Iowa to here…and that log will be continued as soon as I sit down and stay at the lap top for more than 20 minutes.  These last two weeks of possible blogs  have really been hurt by my many volunteer hours at the Book Fair, but the sacrifice is worth it!  I can blog any day when the Fair is over.  As Ginny stated, a co-volunteer, working at the Book Fair, we receive the best payment:  a million smiles from the kids.  The book fair is almost over and my blogging can resume. 

So, what is a scary basement?  As a child I never had to contend with basements.  In Puerto Rico, basements, as far as I was aware of, did not exist.  I do not believe they could, really, those the explanations as to why should probably be left unsaid as I do not want to reveal my ignorance of construction.  Whenever we visited or lived on the mainland, we did not deal with basements…or so my memory will allow me.  Scary basements weren’t part of my childhood miseries, fortunately.

Until now. 

Well, I am no longer a child on the outside, physically, but our basement is a tad bit scary.  I do not mean it in jest.  It smells, it’s dark, and there are corners everywhere.  At first I felt that I could possibly get lost, but then I finally found the end of the basement, a clausphobic hole in the back of the house. Originally, my first goal was to check all the windows to make sure that they could be opened and possibly climbed through.  Then I decided to settle with merely cleaning them.  When I saw the nest of old cocoons, I figured I could wait a bit.  Now my goal is to just gain enough energy so I can unpack one box at a time.  I believe that the mountain of boxes in the middle of the room may be causing one of the problems with the lighting.  The two single bulbs that hang on each side of the mountain are blocked from shining light all the way around the room as one crosses from one side to the other.

My mom offered to come in May and help with the basement.  That was a very sweet offer, but I cannot imagine having to enter and leave the basement for another 5 months.  That would mean 157 days of bumping through a darkened basement to fetch the laundry or food from the freezer.  No thanks, Mom, but I will have to slug slowly through and unpack things beforehand.  I have two fine and often unwilling human helpers who can haul things upstairs for me. There's a pack that I can strap to Rory's back, and I am sure we can make a pack for Echo to help haul items up.  If the mountain, the basement should become a bit more friendly as there won't be as many shadows and dark areas to contend with. 

Scary basement will continue…..

Instructions for the Insanely Late People Part One

In my family, there is a genetic trait for us to be late. I am not sure who is exactly to blame, but I have come up with a solution to being “on-time.” My daughter says the solution is to get up early, but this is not so simple for people who are doomed to be late. My method works and has worked very well for me up until very recently when I moved and needed to revise my schedule. Fortunately, Mark (my employer) has been quite forgiving at my few mishaps, but his patience shouldn’t be tested. Therefore, as I draw up another plan for myself, I felt it would be nice to share this pseudo schedule for others. Now, of course, it is very important to remember to edit the list according to what is priority. For example, one would not try to “potty” the dogs if there were none living in the house. This seems very obvious, but recently I was speaking to someone and I had this conversation.

Me: [talking about making a schedule] “You tell him that for two afternoons, say Monday and Thursdays, you will be going to the pool as soon as he gets home, say 5 p.m.”
Friend: “Oh no, I can’t go at that time. The rush hour is terrible!”

Sadly, my friend had missed my point...or maybe I hadn’t been terribly clear in my point. I was trying to stress that this friend should set a time each week to go to the pool, but instead the friend was too focused on the details.

Now this list is actually quite detailed. I think too often genetically “perpetually-late people” unfortunately skip out on the details. My mother, who is incredibly organized, allowed herself a two hour window to get ready for church on Sundays. Unfortunately, she never drew up a list of what needed to be done versus what could wait and she didn’t prioritize or delegate responsibilities. She would be the one, for as long as I could remember, except for a few exceptions, who got my sister and I up, picked out my clothes, pushed us to brush our teeth and put our shoes on, and get our things ready for church. I think Dad was responsible for the breakfast bit. Then Mom would close up the shutter windows-in case Puerto Rico decided to have a blowing rain shower-clean out the cat box and feed the cat-put away a load of laundry-do the breakfast dishes-pick up in the living room-take a 40 minute bath-dress-apply makeup-sweep the kitchen floor-and put lunch out to thaw. Obviously, this made us very late. Meanwhile, Dad sat on the couch and grumbled about how late we were going to be, looking up from reading his newspaper. Now Mom had tried delegating, but her patience and teaching strength was limited as the few times my Dad did have the task of dressing me (when I was little) he managed to botch it up royally, like putting my shoes on the wrong feet and other more embarrassing details that are best left un-blogged. Hopefully I won’t be disinherited from my family, or more importantly, my Dad will not retaliate by refusing to finish my walking stick for having shared this family secret. Dad deserves his own entry in this “workshop of writing” that is nicknamed a “blog” because he was and is a fantastic dad. (Phew! Have I dug myself out of the hole I have created? Using childhood examples can be dangerous even if it means complimenting one parent).

Instructions for the Insanely Late People Part Two

Ok, on to the now famous list.
The 1st step is to make a list of activities that have to be done every morning, regardless.
The 2nd step would be to try to figure out how long each activity takes. This part can be modified later as I have learned that I thought it took 3 minutes to lock up the house and walk to the car, but with Mari it actually takes about 8 minutes.

A. Wake, put on slippers. (2 min.)
B. Dogs go potty. (8 min.)
C. Feed dogs, cat. (8 min.)
D. Wake Mari who complains about the smell emitting from my mouth. (10 min.)
E. Brush teeth. (2 min.)
F. Wake Mari again. (8 min.)
G. Put on pet-hair loving clothes over business clothes. (10 min.)
H. Check to see if Mari is actually getting dressed. (3 min.)
I. Pass out over Mari’s breath and make joke about selling it to the government. (30 sec.)
J. Tell Mari to brush teeth and check to make sure she is. (2 min.)
K. Make breakfast. (15 min.)
L. Eat breakfast. (15 min.)
M. Pack lunches in bag. (4 min.)
N. Dogs go potty again. (10 min.)
O. Lock doggies in basement in crates w/ appropriate bones. (5 min.)
P. Gather bags and coats. (5 min.)
Q. Tell Mari to go through door. Lock door. (5 min.)
R. Walk to car, load kid in car. (8 min.)
S. Drive to Mari’s school. (15 min.)
T. Drop Mari off. (5 min.)
U. Drive to work. (10 min.)
V. Park. (5 min.)
W. Arrive at work to make tea before 9 a.m.

Now, I know this list looks tedious but it is actually quite helpful in narrowing down what needs to be done versus what could be done. It also gives an idea to what time one should actually wake up in the morning to allow oneself enough time. I mean, whoever would think that it would take a modest 2.5 hours to just feed a few mutts, get dressed, and go to work. Only...that’s not all that’s going on. This method was invented when I was going to full time school and part time work. There seemed to be no time for homework and once I drew up all the activities that had to be done in the day, I realized there weren’t any real chunks of time for homework except on the weekends. That was troublesome and something I should have considered before signing up for classes. I have since eliminated many of my “have to” activities so I can make time for homework (for when I am in school).

Some people have a knack for just being on time, but then there’s the rest of us who need a little extra push. Obviously I don’t follow this schedule exactly to the minute, but now I have an idea as to what time I need to get up. I could very well (and have in the past) printed an abbreviated schedule to post to help me keep track of my priorities. Here’s the modified schedule.
1. Wake up at 6:30.
2. Pets potty and fed.
3. Wake Mari.
4. Dress.
5. Make and eat breakfast.
6. Pack lunches and bags.
7. Potty dogs and put in crates.
8. Lock up.
9. Arrive at school.
10. Arrive at work at 9.

Here I have eliminated the extra 13 steps, but I know that I have a 2.5 hour window to work in. This method guarantees a person to not be late and once the listing begins, its’ amazing how one can use it for say, going to a party, or attending a church meeting, or making it to a doctors’ appointment on time!