That's right!
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Ha. Just the blog.
Mike and I don't actually know where we're going (yes. still. I know. Please stop asking).
I'm hoping that the work that I've done over at the new site makes life a little bit easier for all of us. WordPress is pretty user friendly, and I re-vamped the whole look. I've gotten a couple complaints that you can't comment here without going through a whole song and dance. I can't ever get my pictures to look reasonable, even manipulating them on LiveWriter, and I wasn't happy with the multiple layouts I 'tried on', even after I customized them to death.
I've transferred all my old posts from here, so all the good stuff is still around.
A negative? The X Halt Salute title is taken! Big poo on that.
I have been thinking about going into business for myself when we move away from here. I'm not comfortable doing more than teaching up-down lessons while I'm still with B, however, Mike and I have meetings with tax/insurance companies to start us on the path. If anybody has any advice, let me know :).
I do want to start taking advatage of our nomadic lifestyle to make horsey contacts all over the country and offer baby/greenie starting services, sales, and lessons/coaching.
I wanted to use this site to incorporate the name of the business, which we're planning to be Forever After (fill-in-the-blank...we're still very much a 'work in progress)
SO. Without further ado, please mosey on over to....
*** I'm going to leave this post up for sometime, but comments will be disabled. Eventually this site will be no more, so that somebody who may want to use the domain name can have it!***
11 September, 2012
10 September, 2012
Nothing New.
Not much around here has been going on. We're starting to really enjoy the cool weather that has set in.
Shannon and I had a great weekend, while Mike had a work BBQ to attend and a leaky pipe in our ceiling to fix.
I was so bummed that I couldn't go to the BBQ, but the weather was due to get really bad. Babies, hail, and tornado warnings just don't mix in my mind.
We went to Costco with Nana, where I came home with 5lbs of baking soda, a giant bag of veggie sticks, and some of those mexican chicken wraps. Costco does weird things to your brain.
Shannon spent 3/4 of the trip hanging over the cart handle, screaming at people who didn't pay her enough attention and the other 1/4 testing out the samples with me. Who doesn't love sample day at Costco?!
After Nana, Shannon, and I ate our way through Costco, we stopped for lunch at a sweet little diner in town. It was a great girl's day!
That's really about it. Exciting lives we lead, right?
Hopefully tomorrow holds a ride on my lovely mare (or at least some snuggles... It's supposed to be rainy and gross). It's time to gets those blankets out so Miss Wil can be snuggly and warm. I love that she lives outside, and making sure she's dressed properly makes me smile. She's also due for a pedicure.
Shannon and I had a great weekend, while Mike had a work BBQ to attend and a leaky pipe in our ceiling to fix.
I was so bummed that I couldn't go to the BBQ, but the weather was due to get really bad. Babies, hail, and tornado warnings just don't mix in my mind.
We went to Costco with Nana, where I came home with 5lbs of baking soda, a giant bag of veggie sticks, and some of those mexican chicken wraps. Costco does weird things to your brain.
Shannon spent 3/4 of the trip hanging over the cart handle, screaming at people who didn't pay her enough attention and the other 1/4 testing out the samples with me. Who doesn't love sample day at Costco?!
After Nana, Shannon, and I ate our way through Costco, we stopped for lunch at a sweet little diner in town. It was a great girl's day!
That's really about it. Exciting lives we lead, right?
Hopefully tomorrow holds a ride on my lovely mare (or at least some snuggles... It's supposed to be rainy and gross). It's time to gets those blankets out so Miss Wil can be snuggly and warm. I love that she lives outside, and making sure she's dressed properly makes me smile. She's also due for a pedicure.
My little hambone! |
<3 |
This new screaching thing is so beyond adorable... but doesn't bode well when she's supposed to be just hanging out. |
Love waking up to this face in the morning. We don't co-sleep anymore, but I will bring her into bed with me when she first wakes up in the morning. It's a great chance to snag some more snuggles. |
Girl's lunch with Nana! |
Somebody should really inform Dixie that that's not exactly what the boppy pillow is supposed to be used for! |
What happens when it's Dad's turn to 'watch' the baby. |
Watchin' the tube. |
The other 1/3 of my heart. I love this mare and our journey together! |
You missed one... |
* Something funky is going on with the pictures in this joint. I'm contemplating making the switch to Wordpress, since Blogger isn't really all that I was hoping it would be... however I also don't want to lose all my previous posts. Please bear with me while I get everything sorted out. :)
07 September, 2012
And Then There Was A Naked Man...
That's right folks... a naked man.
Shannon and I were on our way to the barn (where I actually worked Willow, whose hock looks wonderful! Score!), minding our own business, when the car in the opposite lane flashed their lights at us.
I flashed my lights back and checked my speed, thinking that there was a cop in front of us. The road is fairly windy and I've been picked up there a few times before.
Sure enough, I came around the corner to an officer in the road motioning for me to slow down. I did, because that's what you do as a law abiding citizen.
I'm glad I did, because not 30 seconds into my slowing down and man bolted out into the road, followed by an assortment of police officers.
I saw his winky.
It was flopping about like a dead fish. Then the cops tackled him to the pavement while I sat in total shock, unsure of if I should laugh, cry, or throw up.
I did a little of everything.
Shannon and I were on our way to the barn (where I actually worked Willow, whose hock looks wonderful! Score!), minding our own business, when the car in the opposite lane flashed their lights at us.
I flashed my lights back and checked my speed, thinking that there was a cop in front of us. The road is fairly windy and I've been picked up there a few times before.
Sure enough, I came around the corner to an officer in the road motioning for me to slow down. I did, because that's what you do as a law abiding citizen.
I'm glad I did, because not 30 seconds into my slowing down and man bolted out into the road, followed by an assortment of police officers.
I saw his winky.
It was flopping about like a dead fish. Then the cops tackled him to the pavement while I sat in total shock, unsure of if I should laugh, cry, or throw up.
I did a little of everything.
04 September, 2012
Bummer....
I was so excited yesterday! Mike had the day off for Labor Day (yay!). Since my weekend riding plans had been shot in the foot by a trip to camp (which was a blast) and then Mike working the fair from 10-10, I was excited to take full advantage of his parenting abilities and go ride the Mare.
Then we pulled in, I put her halter on and gave her the once over like I always do (because I'm paranoid)... her left hock was larger than the right.
^*#($&%#(@&@#)%#)%($*#& and @(*#%*@(%&#$(%&#(@
Sigh.
So I threw my hands up in the air, gave her a bubble bath (after which is promptly rolled in the dirt), cold hosed the stupid joint, and had Mike jog her (not only can he parent like a boss, but he's a great jogger!). She wasn't lame, but she wasn't quite right either.
#($%*#$(@*@)%*#$(@
I made a plan with B, and choked back the frustrated tears. I also didn't hit anything, which is a personal best.
Yet another set back. How many does this make now? I'm losing track, honestly.
It seems like all my attempts to get this mare to a place where I can ride her without constant supervision are being promptly thwarted by the horsey Gods. Or Karma (I've about had enough of you, lady!).
I'm seriously bumming over the whole thing. Fall (and winter which = The Big Move. TBM = LOTS of time lost with Willow) is fast approaching and I feel like time is ticking away. She's also 8 now. Tick. Tick. Tick.
So. She'll have another week off and I'll try again.
It's a good thing she's puuurty, because she does a great job as a pasture puff.
Then we pulled in, I put her halter on and gave her the once over like I always do (because I'm paranoid)... her left hock was larger than the right.
^*#($&%#(@&@#)%#)%($*#& and @(*#%*@(%&#$(%&#(@
Sigh.
So I threw my hands up in the air, gave her a bubble bath (after which is promptly rolled in the dirt), cold hosed the stupid joint, and had Mike jog her (not only can he parent like a boss, but he's a great jogger!). She wasn't lame, but she wasn't quite right either.
#($%*#$(@*@)%*#$(@
I made a plan with B, and choked back the frustrated tears. I also didn't hit anything, which is a personal best.
Yet another set back. How many does this make now? I'm losing track, honestly.
It seems like all my attempts to get this mare to a place where I can ride her without constant supervision are being promptly thwarted by the horsey Gods. Or Karma (I've about had enough of you, lady!).
I'm seriously bumming over the whole thing. Fall (and winter which = The Big Move. TBM = LOTS of time lost with Willow) is fast approaching and I feel like time is ticking away. She's also 8 now. Tick. Tick. Tick.
So. She'll have another week off and I'll try again.
It's a good thing she's puuurty, because she does a great job as a pasture puff.
And because a post wouldn't be complete without the obligatory picture of the wee one... please enjoy Shannon in all her 'helpful' glory.
Also. Dixie has been diagnosed with anaplasmosis, so I'm on the lameness alert for the dog too.
She clearly feels bad about it.
Not really. She was just hiding from the whirling dervish that is my daughter.
03 September, 2012
Early Starts!
Horse crazy was a name that I got called a lot in high school... I think that my obsession has since grown past that. So much so that when Mike and I were wandering around the fair last week and I caught sight of the pony rides, I made a bee line.
When I was young, I always insisted on the pony rides. Then it was lessons. Then a lease. Then a horse of my own. Now, over 20 years later, I'm still obsessed. I wanted to pass that obsession onto Shannon so it was only natural that she took her first spin on the pony ride!
She needs a little bit of work on her heels, and sitting up straight, but I think she's off to a great start!
I'm not sure who got more of a kick out of it, me or her! She loved it.
From there we went to the petting zoo, to make sure that the animal bug was well ground into her. She loved the goats, but not so much the donkey. He brayed right into her face, which startled her (and me!) a bit, but she finally gave him a pat on the nose.
When I was young, I always insisted on the pony rides. Then it was lessons. Then a lease. Then a horse of my own. Now, over 20 years later, I'm still obsessed. I wanted to pass that obsession onto Shannon so it was only natural that she took her first spin on the pony ride!
She needs a little bit of work on her heels, and sitting up straight, but I think she's off to a great start!
I'm not sure who got more of a kick out of it, me or her! She loved it.
From there we went to the petting zoo, to make sure that the animal bug was well ground into her. She loved the goats, but not so much the donkey. He brayed right into her face, which startled her (and me!) a bit, but she finally gave him a pat on the nose.
We did discover, that she is NOT a fan of chickens. It must be genetic. They are awful creatures in my opinion. I'm more than happy to leave the chicken loving to the chicken lovers while I continue to admire from afar.
We had a great time, and I'm looking forward to going back next year!
02 September, 2012
Stages.
One of things that I've learned, as a new Mom, is to cherish the stages that Shannon is in, while she's in them.
I've often found myself thinking "I can't wait until she's mobile." or "I can't wait until she starts eating more solid food." Thinking that those stages will help make my life a little bit easier.
I. Am. So. Wrong.
I want to see that she's advancing, but now I'm starting to wish for the little baby days back. The days when I could plunk her in her carseat and she'd sleep through lunch or dinner out, or I could lay her on her playmat while I cooked (or went pee...for that matter. There is nothing like waddling around the bathroom with your pants around your ankles, trying to keep a very curious little one out of the trash).
It was all fine and dandy, and I went with it like the pro that I'm not. Until today.
Today was the mother of all stages, and the one that I've been dreading.
Tempertantrums...
Sunday's are typically grocery shopping days around here. Usually Mike is home to assist with the baby wrangling, but today I had to pull on my big girl panties and go it alone. Compliments of the Army... It's not a huge deal, as Shannon usually just hangs out in the cart, swinging her feet and taking in the sights.
Not today.
You see, Shannon has developed a fondness for paper in any form. Her favorites include magazines (extra points for ones Mommy hasn't even READ yet) and book covers (thicker...more fiber) but any old piece will do. This makes my shopping list an object of much intrest. Last week she was more than happy to just crinkle it around, and Dad was in charge of making sure pieces didn't end up in her gut. He did a great job, so when she snagged my list this morning, I really didn't give it any thought.
After I pulled the 5th soggy, gross piece out of her chubby little cheek I decided to call it quits with the paper.
That's when it happened.
We were in the meat section. Next to the chicken. I extracted the drool covered shooping list from her chubby little fist and placed it in my purse. I then turned to select which chicken package looked the least offensive. In the backgroud I hear this high pitched scream.
Glad it's not my kid. I said, and I shuffled through the chicken. Then I noticed the dirty looks being shot in my direction.
Do I have a booger? Did my pants rip? Somebody should really deal with that screamer.
More dirty looks. I select my chicken and turn to place it in the cart. I then realize...
That's my kid screaming.
Shannon has herself twisted around in the buggy seat, and is reaching for the shopping list in my purse behind her, wailing her little head off.
Purple-faced wailing.
The little Canadian man next to me is shooting daggers out of his eyes. I pray to any higher power that will listen, offering up my soul in exhange for invisbility. They didn't listen.
Crap, that meants I was actually going to have to DEAL with the situation.
I quickly turn Shannon around and stuff the shopping list in my purse, burying it under diapers, keys, and a half eaten granola bar. Shannon doesn't want to be turned away from her prize and is fighting me with all her 6 month old viciousness (that's A LOT...for those of you who don't have kids).
She then decides to let her inner drama queen out to play, arches her back and flings her head backwards. Smack into the metal backing of the seat.
I'm struggling to unbuckle the stupid buckle as the screaming ups a few decibles and people are starting to dial CPS on their phones. I'm fairly sure the baby gods are going to swoop down, spit in my eye, and carry Shannon away to a nice family who will allow her to eat their shopping list.
I finally got her unbuckled and settled down. People stop staring and resort to muttering under their breath as they walk away. I'm okay with that.
I get Shannon buckled back into the seat, say a quick prayer and continue with my shopping.
She smiles at me, and I can see her entire face start to look a bit strange. Praying that she wasn't about to repeat the epic meltdown, I start pushing the cart faster, throwing random items into the basket.
Then there is an odd squealching noise emitting from the underside of my little darling. I know that noise. That's the poop noise. That's the blowout poop noise.
Sure enough, I lift her out of the cart and there is poop coating the entire surface. I abandon all pretenses, figuring the people of the grocery store won't be surprised by this further display of "No way to I have my shit together enough to go grocery shopping today", and whip off my shirt (I wear a tank top under everything... thank you very much). I wrap Shannon in the shirt, finish my grocery shopping, and drive straight to McDonald's for a coffee.
I won't be praying for anymore advancing stadges for a while.
My Mom is going to be laughing at the wonder that is karma.
I happen to think karma is a bloody bitch.
I've often found myself thinking "I can't wait until she's mobile." or "I can't wait until she starts eating more solid food." Thinking that those stages will help make my life a little bit easier.
I. Am. So. Wrong.
I want to see that she's advancing, but now I'm starting to wish for the little baby days back. The days when I could plunk her in her carseat and she'd sleep through lunch or dinner out, or I could lay her on her playmat while I cooked (or went pee...for that matter. There is nothing like waddling around the bathroom with your pants around your ankles, trying to keep a very curious little one out of the trash).
It was all fine and dandy, and I went with it like the pro that I'm not. Until today.
Today was the mother of all stages, and the one that I've been dreading.
Tempertantrums...
Sunday's are typically grocery shopping days around here. Usually Mike is home to assist with the baby wrangling, but today I had to pull on my big girl panties and go it alone. Compliments of the Army... It's not a huge deal, as Shannon usually just hangs out in the cart, swinging her feet and taking in the sights.
Not today.
You see, Shannon has developed a fondness for paper in any form. Her favorites include magazines (extra points for ones Mommy hasn't even READ yet) and book covers (thicker...more fiber) but any old piece will do. This makes my shopping list an object of much intrest. Last week she was more than happy to just crinkle it around, and Dad was in charge of making sure pieces didn't end up in her gut. He did a great job, so when she snagged my list this morning, I really didn't give it any thought.
After I pulled the 5th soggy, gross piece out of her chubby little cheek I decided to call it quits with the paper.
That's when it happened.
We were in the meat section. Next to the chicken. I extracted the drool covered shooping list from her chubby little fist and placed it in my purse. I then turned to select which chicken package looked the least offensive. In the backgroud I hear this high pitched scream.
Glad it's not my kid. I said, and I shuffled through the chicken. Then I noticed the dirty looks being shot in my direction.
Do I have a booger? Did my pants rip? Somebody should really deal with that screamer.
More dirty looks. I select my chicken and turn to place it in the cart. I then realize...
That's my kid screaming.
Shannon has herself twisted around in the buggy seat, and is reaching for the shopping list in my purse behind her, wailing her little head off.
Purple-faced wailing.
The little Canadian man next to me is shooting daggers out of his eyes. I pray to any higher power that will listen, offering up my soul in exhange for invisbility. They didn't listen.
Crap, that meants I was actually going to have to DEAL with the situation.
I quickly turn Shannon around and stuff the shopping list in my purse, burying it under diapers, keys, and a half eaten granola bar. Shannon doesn't want to be turned away from her prize and is fighting me with all her 6 month old viciousness (that's A LOT...for those of you who don't have kids).
She then decides to let her inner drama queen out to play, arches her back and flings her head backwards. Smack into the metal backing of the seat.
I'm struggling to unbuckle the stupid buckle as the screaming ups a few decibles and people are starting to dial CPS on their phones. I'm fairly sure the baby gods are going to swoop down, spit in my eye, and carry Shannon away to a nice family who will allow her to eat their shopping list.
I finally got her unbuckled and settled down. People stop staring and resort to muttering under their breath as they walk away. I'm okay with that.
I get Shannon buckled back into the seat, say a quick prayer and continue with my shopping.
She smiles at me, and I can see her entire face start to look a bit strange. Praying that she wasn't about to repeat the epic meltdown, I start pushing the cart faster, throwing random items into the basket.
Then there is an odd squealching noise emitting from the underside of my little darling. I know that noise. That's the poop noise. That's the blowout poop noise.
Sure enough, I lift her out of the cart and there is poop coating the entire surface. I abandon all pretenses, figuring the people of the grocery store won't be surprised by this further display of "No way to I have my shit together enough to go grocery shopping today", and whip off my shirt (I wear a tank top under everything... thank you very much). I wrap Shannon in the shirt, finish my grocery shopping, and drive straight to McDonald's for a coffee.
I won't be praying for anymore advancing stadges for a while.
My Mom is going to be laughing at the wonder that is karma.
I happen to think karma is a bloody bitch.
29 August, 2012
I'm Too Tired To Be Creative.
Miss Shannon had her 6 month appointment yesterday, and she was a champ.
She weighs in at a hefty (har har) 14lbs 4oz and measures 23.75" long! That puts her in the 14th percentile in both aspects. Tiny, sure, but healthy!
She handled her shots like a pro, and only cried for a few minutes. Luckily Daddy was around this time to make things all better! I gave her a half dose of Infant Tylenol before we left, and that helped her legs not to swell, and she didn't run a low grade temp like she has in the past.
She was, however, a total spaz the rest of the day. She looked like she was hopped up on a little somethin' extra. She zoomed from one end of the house to the other, panting (which is her, I'm overly excited, response to everything), with her eyes as big as dinner plates. Thank goodness for the crock pot! I don't know if I could have actually cooked a real meal!
The real challenge came at bedtime. I had to play Daddy yesterday night, because Mike ended up working pretty late, and she wasn't having any of it. She finally fell asleep in bed with me, around 1 A.M. (thank goodness I can nurse lying down). She was up and ready to party by 3.
She's now finally gone back to sleep (after a rather loud, lengthy fight), and hopefully she'll take a nice, long nap!
Thank heavens for her swing!
She weighs in at a hefty (har har) 14lbs 4oz and measures 23.75" long! That puts her in the 14th percentile in both aspects. Tiny, sure, but healthy!
She handled her shots like a pro, and only cried for a few minutes. Luckily Daddy was around this time to make things all better! I gave her a half dose of Infant Tylenol before we left, and that helped her legs not to swell, and she didn't run a low grade temp like she has in the past.
She was, however, a total spaz the rest of the day. She looked like she was hopped up on a little somethin' extra. She zoomed from one end of the house to the other, panting (which is her, I'm overly excited, response to everything), with her eyes as big as dinner plates. Thank goodness for the crock pot! I don't know if I could have actually cooked a real meal!
The real challenge came at bedtime. I had to play Daddy yesterday night, because Mike ended up working pretty late, and she wasn't having any of it. She finally fell asleep in bed with me, around 1 A.M. (thank goodness I can nurse lying down). She was up and ready to party by 3.
She's now finally gone back to sleep (after a rather loud, lengthy fight), and hopefully she'll take a nice, long nap!
Thank heavens for her swing!
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