Enter the Doggone

About a month ago we were presented with an offer that we felt that we could not refuse.
One of the Levity and Perspective mom's were informed of a Goldendoodle that was in need of a new home. Her name was Ruthie and she belonged to a loving family. Unfortunately due to circumstances beyond the families control they couldn't spend enough time with the dog and felt that she would be happier in a home where she would receive more attention. They were seeking a nice family that would be willing to take Ruth in and provide a loving and supportive environment.

Since a nice family could not be located, we volunteered our services.

Her name has remained mostly the same since we took her in though Merritt added a second name. So I now present Ruthie Anna.

Hi

The nick names that she has received thus far are Ruth Bader Dogsberg, Baby Ruth, Doggo, Ruthersford B Hayes, and Ruby. She is also called each of the childrens' names when we are particularly flustered.

Now, being that my wife and I are both in our 40s, have multiple college degrees and professional licenses between us, have a child entering her Junior year of college, and have had less than 4 severe head injuries occur in our household over the past couple of years, one might assume that we are competent enough to make this decision on our own. One might think that others would grant us the basic respect that we had thought through whether or not we should add another happy face (dog or otherwise) to our home. One might imagine we had weighed the pros and cons and carefully plotted out our family budget and arrived at outcome that this would be a positive for our family.

Strangely this was not the case.

Now we may be a bit sensitive on the topic because many of our decisions such as, having a kid with special needs, having a third kid, having twins, adopting cats (by the way we have two cats too),  and our LA Guns cover band, have been met with similar skepticism and dour attitudes.

It should be noted that the only of the aforementioned choices that we have come to regret is the one that I just made up.

Some folks still ask with a sour tone, "Why? Would you want a dog too? Have you thought this through?"

Well I'll tell you why:

1. We wanted to
2. Entertaining two five year olds and a seven year old is tough work and we needed the help
3. Picking up cheerios is cumbersome 
4. She makes us happy
5. We like fun
6. None of your damn business
7. She encourages us to exercise more
8. She is awesome
9. She makes us smile
10. Still none of your damn business

We realize that our life might strike others as overwhelming, and it is. But we are the ones living it. We are competent adults capable of  making decisions on our own. To assume otherwise is insulting and speaks more to your inability than ours.

Would you tell Michael Jordan how to dribble a basketball? No you wouldn't, because he's Michael Fucking Jordan.  Am I saying that we are the Michael Jordan of big families? Yes I am. Minus the gambling and with more crying. 

Why did we buy a white couch?

If you think I'm wrong then why don't you raise five kids and show me how to do it better.

What's that? You don't know how to? You wouldn't want to?

In that case might I recommend that you provide us with the same advise that I provide test pilots as they approach mach 2? Which is none. My advice to them would be unsolicited, unappreciated, and most of all uneducated.  I know exactly nothing about being in those circumstances so I keep my lip buttoned.

That is not to say that no one should voice an opinion on the matter. I'm speaking of course of the stake holders; those that are directly effected by the decision. As far as I can tell there are three stake holders in this situation; ourselves, Ruthie Anna, and the mom that will occasionally be asked to dog sit. I will now list the stake holders opinions on the adoption below.

Us: For it
Mom: For it
Ruthie Anna: Woof

That's three to zero, the Aye's have it.


Cheers,

L&P

Birthday Blues

I can remember how much I looked forward to my birthday and Christmas as a youngster. Without being weighed down by any knowledge of economics and the burden of Santa’s actual address, the sky was the limit when it came to not only what I could ask for, but also what I expected.

For several years running, I asked for a lightsaber. Not a toy one. A real one. One that could cut through things. A green one. A REAL GREEN LIGHTSABER.

This one

When I was a kid, the rule about opening presents was “no sour grapes”. In other words. Be thankful for the gifts you receive and no bad attitudes.

I think I did a pretty good job of following this rule but that didn’t mean that I didn’t suffer in silence when I realized that all of the gifts had been opened and I remained without my Jedi weapon of choice.

In hindsight, I do not blame my parents for this. After all, lightsabers would be a very irresponsible gift for a child and they do not exist.

Enter our son Oliver. 

Hi

In the unlikely event that you are unfamiliar with our fun family dynamic, I’ll quickly inform you that Oliver is our youngest of five children. He is also a twin. His birthday is December 23rd. Which, as my wife is fond of saying, means that he has to share a birthday with his brother and Jesus.

Meeting birthday expectations is already a steep climb for parents, steeper when said expectations are not grounded in physics or a realistic budget.

I have included an incomplete list of some of Oliver’s demands.

• That sword
• That power ranger’s Zord
• That thing on your back that you put two swords and then go like this (ninja like sword drawing maneuvers)
• That motorcycle
• That motorcycle too
• A dog with pointy ears
• A robot dog with pointy ears
• That thing that you put on a horse and you ride behind it and do this (indecipherable hand gestures)
•  A REAL power ranger suite
• All of the power ranger Zords
• A remote control Spiderman motorcycle
• That black remote control car that we saw at the store that one time
• A horse thing that you sit on (saddle?)
• That game
• A horse
• That game too
• A real robot that does that thing
• All of the video games
• A lightsaber

Since we live in the future most of the television consumed by our children is via streaming services, thus commercial free. On the rare occasion that Oliver (or any of our kids) does watch television with commercials the request list spikes considerably.

I don’t want to give the impression that our youngest is the only one making these requests.  He’s not.  However, he is the most vocal and repetitive of our quintet. On a slow day, Oliver has a cruising speed of approximately 55 RPH (requests per hour).

We typically acknowledge these requests with a canned, “We’ll see” or “Maybe”, or “Can you draw a picture of it that we can send to Santa?”, or “Maybe if you change the oil in the Subaru we can come to some kind of arrangement.”

We know that this is typical kid behavior. As mind numbing as it can be to hear the same request for the 100th time in a three-hour period we manage the frustration for the constant demands for our attention. He is not always going to ask us for things. There will be a day when he can buy all of his own things and we will be out of the loop. The tricky duality of parenthood is both looking forward to and dreading that day.

Maybe someday science will catch up with my kid’s demands and he can get that lightsaber. By then he will be old enough to responsibly wield it. Until that day, I have some shopping to do. By December 23rd these should be just about ready.

Cheers,

L&P