Michael

I haven't written about Michael in a while--thought I'd give an update about him. He's getting so big. He really listens to what I say and I can tell he understands direction and what I'm telling him. He likes to get up on the couch but can't quite reach so he pulls a pillow off the couch to step on and then he can hop right up. He was wearing my boots while he was trying to get up the other day so from across the room I told him to remember that a pillow would help him get up and sure enough he grabbed the closest one and pulled it down to the floor to use as a step. He seems just like a sponge right now, soaking up everything he can possibly learn. He says quite a few words--cheerios and banana are the most recent. It really tickles him if a word has a funny sound. Aunt Sharon brought him some oranges from Florida and he gets a smile on his face every time he says that--because he likes the sound of the word or maybe because he loves oranges.

He also started running. He loves to run around the house and runs across the room just so that I'll hold out my arms and tell him to "Run" and he zooms back to give me a hug. He loves to give hugs and usually accompanies it with an "awwwww...." He hugs the phone when he talks to his Grandma and Grandpa and sometimes he hugs it when I just mention them. Jackie has started to let him hug her, so he must be getting more careful about toes and ears--but Pepper and Jorgie are still pretty cautious. The cat lets him pet her which shocks me because she doesn't like a lot of attention. She usually sticks it out until he grabs her tail, which is kind of unfortunate because he rarely lets go when she starts to walk away.

He's feeling a little sick today. He has a runny nose and a little bit of a cough. He kept waking himself up during the night and was up really early crying for momma. I just talked to Aunt Sharon and he fell asleep for nap time about 15 minutes after I dropped him off. Poor little pumpkin. He seems to get through stuff really quickly though and it's the weekend so I get to be home with him for a couple days which will be nice.

Stop Following Me!

Well, I used to think I was the favorite because I'm the only dog allowed on the good couches. I don't know why but it might have something to do with Jorgie and Jackie taking up all the room when they sleep on the couch while I'm very careful to curl up in an unused corner so I don't disturb Aunt Jamie. She said it's because she couldn't bear to disappoint me when I'm looking at her with my big puppy dog eyes. I get away with a lot because of the eyes. Anyway, we used to have a pretty good arrangement with Jamie and I sitting on the couch, Jorgie on the rug and Jackie in the other room where she could sleep on the carpet. Now all of a sudden Michael has learned how to climb. And his favorite place to be is whichever couch I'm on. And my least favorite place to be is whichever couch he is on. So you can imagine the musical chairs that goes on in the evenings. I can tell Jamie is trying to help--telling Michael to "be nice to Pepper" but his idea of nice and my idea of nice are two totally different ball games. He thinks it's nice to pet me, but I have a strict age limit on who is allowed to pet me. Basically, anybody younger than my kids (Joshua and Jonathan are the youngest--they're 6) is too young to pet me. An ear might get pulled or a leg might get leaned on or a nose might get bit. So my idea of nice is "Stay on the Other Couch!!!" Anyway, he always wins. I move back and forth about 5 times but after he follows me that many times I give up and lay on the floor with Jorgie. She doesn't try to pet me.

By the Book

I went to vote in the Michigan primary last night. I have to admit that when your candidate doesn't win it feels a little bit like wasting time, but regardless of that it's important to exercise your rights, blah, blah, blah. Michael was a little trooper even though we had to make several stops before we got to the township hall. My previously tired, hungry and maybe even cranky republican marched right in saying "bvote, bvote." He smiled and charmed my high school track coach who was directing the voters (actually voter--I was the only one there at the time) to the various precincts and while we were chatting I heard someone call "Hi Michael!" and looked over to see my Aunt Phyllis manning precinct A. We headed right over to get our ballot and do some catching up, "how's your mom and dad in the keys? how are Darcy and Tom over in Africa? Michael sure is getting big--growing like a weed. Oh and I'm going to need to see a picture ID please?" I had to ask myself who she thought she was talking to before she had that drivers license in hand. But isn't it nice when people in a position of responsibility take their instructions seriously and even when there's a fairly obvious loop hole they do it anyway--because that's what is expected of them? I was proud of her--it's probably not easy to ask your niece for more identification than the standard--"hello, I believe you know my family tree better than I do..."

Lonely and Alone

There are some weeks that just don't go well. Most of the time those weeks start on Monday--the traditional "bad day"--but last Sunday I got a glimpse of the bad week I had coming. Some of it was just bad luck, some of it bad timing. But it happened to be the kinds of things that call to mind just why it must be nice to have a husband around. To not have to worry about some of these details that girls shouldn't have to worry about. I don't like to think about mice, or cars, or the trash. I don't like to worry about finances or stretching a one-income budget. And while I have plenty of friends that remind me that a husband isn't necessarily the missing piece of the puzzle--especially since you might have one that spends too much money or forgets to take out the trash or doesn't know how to fix a car--I still think it sure must be nice to have somebody that is required to share the burden with you.
Let me say I know that if I had gotten married ten years ago when I thought I wanted to and started a family in the traditional way I probably wouldn't have Michael right now. And there's nothing I may have missed along the way that I would trade for the gift God gave me in Michael. I can't imagine--don't want to imagine--life without him. And yet in the middle of a stressful week I still have the nerve to lay in bed with tears trickling down into my pillow feeling sorry for myself for being lonely and alone, wondering what it is about me that doesn't fit in with married life. Why it's best for me to not have a soul mate.
And then I realized that I have complete confidence that God has his best in mind for me. And that I actually get to talk about this with the One who made me. The One that actually knows the answers to my questions. Who knows the questions better than I do. And I thought about how there are happily married people that don't talk to God--some that don't even know that he lets us pour out our heart aches even when we know that we're given so much we don't have a right to heart ache. So thank you God for the tough weeks. Thanks for being close enough to remind me to share my burdens with you.
Love, Jamie

A Bag of Poo

Lately there seems to be a lot of news stories about house fires and people being rescued by their dogs. One boy said he and his friend were sleeping in the basement and they wouldn't have gotten out alive if his dog hadn't bit his foot. And I can see mom eyeing us dogs wondering who is the most likely hero. And I know she thinks it's me because I heard her say "that Jackie can wake me up just by breathing on me."
I'm telling you that so you can understand my thought process last night. I had an emergency. No, it wasn't a fire and maybe it was just my own personal emergency, but it was definitely going to affect the whole family. So I tried to wake up my mom, my care taker, my best friend. And she told me to shut up. I didn't even think parents were supposed to say shut up. So I whined a little more. And then I whined a little closer to Michael's room to show her I was in desperate need. I did this for an hour. Oh, I didn't just whine. I growled a little, I put my head on her leg, I hopped up and down off the bed. I considered biting her toe, but to be honest, I couldn't fine one in all those blankets. All the while thinking--How do you know I'm not telling you the house is on fire?!?!?! And all she did was mumbled about how she didn't care how many rabbits were playing outside the window. At one point I thought my diligence was going to pay off because she finally dragged herself out of bed--with a look in her eye that made me think she might push me down the stairs so I gave her a wide berth until we were safely down. And then do you know what she did? She left me downstairs and shut the door. As if everything was taken care of. Did I mention I had an emergency?!? So I did what I haven't had to admit to since puppy hood. I made a small....deposit. I was very considerate in regards to location--I made sure that the aroma would give anybody plenty of warning before they were in danger of taking an ill advised step. I was only able to sleep for about an hour after that before I realized I was going to have a repeat performance. So this time I barked. And I barked and I barked and I barked. And Mom knew what I was barking about the minute she opened the door (did I mention the aroma?) So now here I sit on the porch. Just me and the bag of poo...

The Amazing Race

I'm a big fan of the reality TV show, The Amazing Race. Before I had Michael I used to have a vague plan to try out for the show someday. I used to mentally interview potential partners and decide who I'd have the greatest chance of success with. It seems to me like the biggest problem teams have is when they start to bicker, so I thought I could do the race with one of my friends because we don't bicker like that. Kristi and I would do great. She's very competitive so I know we'd always be giving 110%. She's not a chicken like me so if there was any sky diving or tight rope walking she'd be able to take care of that part of the challenges. Kristi has always told people that I'm very good with directions so we would probably be able to divide up navigation responsibilities without too much second guessing going on. The problem is, I've never been sure that her husband would let her do the race with me when the two of them would probably make an even better team. My friend Tracey and I would have a great time. Except I think we'd get distracted with how much fun we were having and forget to focus on the race. And I have an uneasy feeling that whenever we came to a yucky food challenge she'd make me do it.

When they had the family teams of four I thought my cousin Kris, her husband Tom, my friend Craig and I would make an excellent team. Kris and I could be in charge of giving directions, Tom is willing to eat anything--the grosser the better--and Craig is very strong and willing to do anything, no matter how dangerous. Unfortunately they haven't had a family show since I came up with that dream team. My sister said that her husband Joel and I would make a great team. He doesn't know the meaning of the word fear, so while I'd be shaking in my boots over any height challenge, he'd be happy to do those. He already likes a lot of unusual foods, so it would probably be hard to come up with a tough food challenge for him. He travels all the time and has an amazing talent for getting people at airports to help him out. And he's very smart. I think the piece of the puzzle my sister forgot, though, is that he doesn't always listen to my opinion and I'm pretty opinionated. So there might be some bickering on that team.

The current season they have a father-daughter team. They haven't been getting along great and you can tell that the dad is really working on not yelling at his daughter so much. Which is nice that he's working on it, but very sad that he needs to. Every time I see it I think, man--my dad would never talk to me like that. He would never get so caught up in a game that he'd forget that I was his daughter. He'd never belittle me when I made a mistake. He'd never shift the blame for his mistake onto me so he didn't have to admit fault. And that's when I realized that we'd be the perfect team. We don't argue, we appreciate each other's strengths (although I have to admit in a race like that he has the majority of the strengths), we could probably reach some compromise when it came to yucky food challenges, and we would have a great time travelling around the world. So if the show ever calls up and offers to fly Michael and his grandma to every pit stop so we don't miss them too much, I'm all set to win the million dollars.