Archive for December, 2013


Our Christmas Miracle

We have all fallen hard for my daughter’s little hamster, Rosie. She was supposed to be a Christmas present for Jeanette, but each of us has grown rather attached to the critter. That is why the last few days have been so hard and why I have got to share some of the dramatics that this little critter has caused.

I guess I should preface the story with Rosie is only partially to blame. Really, the dog played a big role in everything that conspired, a very big role.

Our house gets pretty chilly at night and for some reason my daughter’s room gets especially cold. The chill on top of Rosie’s love of her wheel past midnight had forced me to move her cage to the dining room Saturday night. The next morning we overslept and ran out the door late to church forgetting to move Rosie back to the safety of being shut in a bedroom.

We returned home from church a few hours later and Jeanette ran in ahead of me. I had just reached the stoop when I heard a blood curdling scream. The dining room had been destructed. Our dog, Crunchy, had knocked her cage into the floor and drug it into the hallway. There was bedding, food, treats and anything else that had been in the cage spread throughout the area. In the hallway, the cage laid in pieces. Rosie was nowhere to be found.

A quick canvas showed no little hamster body. There was no fur, no blood, so I was hopeful that she was okay. I checked the dogs for any signs that our newest pet had become their mid-morning snack and there was nothing. We started cleaning hoping to find our furry friend. As we cleaned, Brittany spotted her watching us from behind the couch in the living room. The living room is off limits to the dogs. Rosie had squeezed behind the baby gate to safety. We all rejoiced.

A lesson was learned on Sunday. Do not put the cage on the table.

Fast forward a few days to Wednesday. It was time to go to grandma’s house. We loaded the car and hit the road. On our way, I got to thinking about Rosie. I asked Jeanette where she was and she was in the dining room on the buffet. I would have preferred her be behind a closed door, but figured it would be okay since there was no way for the dog to get on the buffet.

WRONG! We arrived home and, again, Jeanette went in first. I made it to the door in time for another scream. This time it was much more intense. Crunchy had pushed a chair over to the buffet and knocked her down again. The cage was again drug into the hallway. There was massive destruction similar to that from days earlier. But this time, there was more. The dogs had gotten sick. We had poop in the kitchen, dining room, and Crunchy had gotten into the family room. He was digging frantically at the couch.

Again, Rosie was nowhere to be found. But this time, with the added sick dogs I was worried. I held onto the hope she was okay for a bit. Then, we found blood. Jeanette was heartbroken.
For the life of me, I could not see the dogs eating our precious pet. But there was no other explanation. We searched throughout the house hoping to be wrong. My boyfriend thought that she might be hurt and that she had hidden herself away to die. We flipped couches and moved everything that we thought she could possibly be under, in, or behind. Eventually, I gave up and we threw away the remains of Rosie’s cage.

Jeanette went to bed heartbroken. There was no consoling the child who had fallen in love with her pet during the short time we had her. Out of ideas on what to say, I suggested that we pray for Rosie. We prayed that if she was alive that she be found soon and that if she had passed that God would love her and take care of her. We prayed for forgiveness for the dogs and for our own strength to forgive. I cried right along with her.

After things had calmed down and the kids were settled, I returned to cleaning the family room. I picked up things that had gotten thrown around in the search, vacuumed, and was putting everything back together when I spotted a familiar face. Rosie was peeking out at me from underneath the couch! I yelled up for help catching her and everyone sprang into action. Moments later, our little Rosie was found with not a hair out of place. She was fine!

From what we can tell, the dog carried Rosie to the family room since she would have had to go down a flight of stairs. We also figure that the dog hurt his paw trying to get Rosie and the blood we found was his.

We have to assume that the dog has had somewhat good intentions and only wanted to play with Rosie since she was not eaten, again. I am also pretty sure that it is hamsters, not cats, which have nine lives. We can also say without hesitation that our prayer was answered. It was a Christmas miracle.


Coming Up Rosie

A few weeks ago, the kids and I had some time to kill and stopped in at our local pet store. We were just checking out the critters when we saw long haired hamsters that had been dropped off by someone that no longer wanted to care for them. They were adorable and my eleven year old fell in love. Of course, that started the never ending begging for a new pet.

With Christmas fast approaching, I held off. First, I really didn’t want another animal. Second, it is quite the investment by the time you buy the cage, bedding, toys, food, and the animal itself. I debated for a while and determined that we would find a way to get the kid one for Christmas. Then, it became a matter of logistics which I probably made much harder than necessary, but such is my life.

Last week, we were faced with another night having time to kill. We ended up back at the store to find the little guys we had liked were gone. We asked an employee who said there was a single hamster left and it was at the front of the store. She had just been dropped off and had obviously been loved at some point because she was very tame. They had her offered for a whopping $7 with the cage included. I could not pass it up. We went ahead and got the supplies with my daughter knowing that the hamster was part of her Christmas gift.

Becoming part of the family was easier said than done. Rosie, the hamster, was a hit with the kids and my boyfriend. Our dogs, however, were not so sure. Both dogs love chasing the squirrels and chipmunks in our backyard. To them, Rosie was another critter to chase, and hopefully devour. It reminds me of the part in Nemo where the sharks say, “Fish are friends, not food.” Same goes for hamsters in this household.

Rosie has grown comfortable in her new surroundings, even with the dogs. She has been spoiled rotten. My daughter has read up on everything hamster. Rosie has treats and toys galore. She is constantly getting held. And she has a wish list because apparently she is begging to get out of her cage and needs more to do. We will likely be getting a hamster ball soon. Although, I am seriously tempted to get the hamster car because it is pretty darn awesome, not quite as awesome as the ones in this commercial, but pretty awesome.

This afternoon, I got a text on my way home from my daughter. She wanted to know if we could get a hamster leash for Rosie. I am pretty sure that I need to draw a line now. I can just visualize the poor rodent getting drug along the street with every cat and dog in the neighborhood nipping at its tiny heels.

Hopefully, the honeymoon won’t end for a while and my daughter will continue loving on Rosie. For now, cleaning the cage isn’t a big deal. Pray it continues and that no one surprises her with a hamster leash for Christmas.


Death Does Not Become Me

Death happens.  Yeah, it sucks.  I have had to deal with more death than I care to think about.  Last week, right before Thanksgiving, my boyfriend lost his grandfather.  Today was the service.  We were not able to attend.  The family has posted things about his passing for a few days now and I knew there would be mention again today, but one of his cousins posted pictures from the funeral.

Honestly, taking pictures at a funeral is nothing new.  I have seen pictures from my own grandfather’s funeral back in the 60’s.  I remember as a kid seeing them for the first time being totally weirded out.  Today, my response was not very different.

OrneryDame: I have never understood people taking pictures at funerals

WorkBuddy: no kidding

OrneryDame: Sean’s cousin just posted a picture of the casket
OrneryDame: I want you to remember me living

OrneryDame: if i die before you, make sure my kids and future grandkids do not whip out a phone at my funeral
OrneryDame: it is bad when my comments make myself giggle
WorkBuddy: lol
WorkBuddy:i will confiscate all phones if i manage to outlive you
WorkBuddy:: we will have a bucket at the door of the funeral home 🙂
OrneryDame: haha awesome
WorkBuddy:: like a key fishbowl
WorkBuddy:: lol
WorkBuddy:: we should prob have a key fishbowl at my funeral
WorkBuddy:: b/c everyone should be drunk and have fun
WorkBuddy: lol
OrneryDame: 🙂
WorkBuddy:: open bar
WorkBuddy: lol
OrneryDame:prop you up beside the jukebox?
WorkBuddy:: no, put me in a box
WorkBuddy:: just have me sitting up when everyone is partying lol
OrneryDame: 🙂

In all seriousness, remember me being alive and well.  Remember me having a good hair day.  Remember me being skinny, and tan (if only I could remember myself that way…).  Don’t take a picture to remember me with the mortuary makeup, stiff from death, and lying in a box.  Don’t let anyone else take one either.


Apples Don’t Fall Far

This year has been big for my older daughter, Brittany; she has played up and joined the high school marching band.  She made a new group of friends, high school friends.  She has had practices, games, parades.  Her schedule hasn’t left her open to drop everything for her middle school friends outside of school.

My daughter has always made friends easily and loves fashion, hair and nails-she is totally one of those girls.  In seventh grade, she became joined at the hip with Elizabeth.  Elizabeth is an only child and the daughter of a girl I went to high school with-a girl that had been ugly to me.  They went to the beach, camps, and were constantly at one another’s home.  Elizabeth doesn’t make friends as easily.  She is a typical only child.  She is an over achiever, very self-centered, and determined that everyone must like her.  She comes from a broken home.  Needless to say, she has not been a fan of my daughter making new friends.

This year has been big for my younger daughter as well.  She started sixth grade.  Jeanette is not as outgoing as her sister.  She is quiet, serious, and a book worm.  I worried about bullies.  Apparently, I was right to worry.

The girls ride the bus together and it all started one morning.  Jeanette was very cute in jeans and a hand me down top from her sister.  Hand me downs are a way of life in our home and has never been an issue, but Elizabeth decided to call her out for it in front of all of her friends on the bus.  Brittany stood up for her sister!  Brittany responded by shooting off at Elizabeth that her shoes were ugly.  Not the most eloquent way of handling the situation, but I was thrilled that she stood up for her little sister.

Unfortunately, that was not the end of the story.  Elizabeth has only gotten worse from that day on.  She is constantly talking about Brittany behind her back starting drama.  Elizabeth deleted Brittany from all of her social networking sites only to add her back shortly thereafter.  It has been ridiculous.  I am sure that my child is not perfect and has done her share of stirring the pot, but I am fairly certain that she has not been the instigator.

I have encouraged both of my daughters to be nice, but not create drama of their own.  Brittany has pretty much written Elizabeth off as a friend thanks to all the drama.  Both of my girls come home almost daily telling stories about Elizabeth talking about them.

I never said anything choosing to let the girls handle things for themselves.  Then¸ I came upon a post that Elizabeth’s mother put on Facebook.

The post was saying how sad it was that her daughter was getting bullied.  It went on to say that her daughter was tender hearted and asking for advice.  She had thirty people encouraging her to go to the school.  I said nothing.

I was really disappointed in Elizabeth’s mother.  I know her. Yet, she chose to post her complaint about my child on the computer.  She did not hear about how her “tenderhearted” child started it.  I had actually saw the woman the day before; she had my number.  She chose to make a stink.  I waited for the school to call; I actually hoped they would so that mother and daughter could be seen for what they really are.  Eventually, I thought things had blown over.

I noticed this morning that I had not noticed any new posts from Elizabeth’s mom in a while.  Funny thing happened.  Upon doing a little research, I found had been blocked.  Mother created a stink and blocked me just as her fourteen year old has done my daughter.  I guess apples don’t fall far from their trees.

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