Category Archives: Dexter

by

Twice Around the Sun

Dear Baby Ike,

Wednesday of last week was your second birthday.  If I am to believe the subject lines of Baby.center.com emails, this means you are now a preschooler!  But let’s be real – Mama will keep calling you Baby Ike, at least on occasion, as long as she can get away with it.  At the same time, you are certainly becoming a true big kid in some ways, so I will compromise and try to come to grips with the fact that you are at least solidly in the toddler range – technically you most likely will not start any kind of preschool program until next year, so I can for now at least semantically justify the procrastination of using that next categorical designation of tiny human.

Most of the time now you refer to yourself as Ikey, a nickname which grew on me more quickly and more fiercely than I anticipated.  When Grandma first started calling you that I honestly wasn’t sure how much I liked the sound of it, but coming out of your own mouth it seems 100% fitting.  All the other things coming out of your mouth, which are way too numerous to even attempt to quantify at this point, are nothing short of astonishing.  For barely two, you are quite verbal. You want to know the name of everything (WAT’S DAT!) and spend a lot of time identifying things and people you’re quite sure of (DAT’S MOMMY. DAT’S A TEEVEE!).  You repeat lots of new and old phrases every day, earning your moniker of Little Parrot (IKEY’S A WITTWE PAWWOT), and your sentence constructions and emphasis and expression never fail to impress me (WAT’S GAMPA DOIN’ OVER DERE?).  We’ve only had a handful of incidents (so far, anyway) in which you repeat somewhat unsavory things you overhear Mama or Daddy or one of their friends saying – the best of which had to be the time at Aunt Jeni’s house when the XBOX remote’s batteries died, meaning we couldn’t set you up with yet another episode of Daniel Tiger or Super Why.  You immediately declared this injustice to be BULLSHIT!  Nice use of context, I guess?  I don’t think anyone even tried not to laugh.

Your love of reading and books continues; you can pretty much recite the entirety of The Very Hungry Caterpillar, and the expression you use for each turn of events kills me dead every time.  As much as I try not to let you insist and win on reading AWWWWWW DESE BOOKS before every bedtime, I’ll always let you sneak that one in before lights out. I need to enlist someone to help me get it on video soon, before your pronunciation goes up another notch toward proper – it’s already making me nostalgic for the time when the remotes were MEAT-MOTES and you didn’t have the S sound down pat yet.  Even Gamma and Gampa now sound more like Gramma and Grampa, though the Rs are still a bit W-ish.  I have, however, developed my own private conspiracy to keep you saying rhino-nocerous.  I have to think and say it very slowly to get it correct myself anymore.

You’re solid on the ABCs, colors, and basic shapes, and most of the numbers up to but not quite including 30!  I’m not sure you get the numbers concept nearly as much as you do letters (N. E. T. F. L. I. X. – DAT SPEWWS NETFWIX!), and you usually try to skip over 14 through 16 or 17 to get straight to 18, with a similar pattern through the 20s, but I’m still pretty astonished that you seem to have absorbed so much, so fast.  Sesame Street FTW?  Speaking of the Street, we had your birthday party on Saturday, and the word of the day was FUN.  In no particular order:

016 IMG_0699 IMG_0656 IMG_0633 IMG_0724.JPG (2)010 IMG_0607 IMG_0609 IMG_0610 IMG_0611

Like last year, you were more interested in the fruit on/in your cake(s) than making a big messy cake-face, but at least this year we did not have to resort to putting Chee.rios in the frosting just to entice you to take a bite.  I’m pretty sure you had a great time.  A few of your friends were able to come, and you all had big fun playing in the pools and running around in the yard and in and out of the house.  You stayed up waaaay past your normal bedtime, and showed off some of your new imaginative play skills (pretending to be a dog and barking, which sounds remarkably like Dexter, at the window and the front door – when asked what you’re barking at, you reply DA MAIWMAN). You definitely have an independent streak, which I love to see (IKEY CAN DO IT AWW BY HIMSEWF!), even when it means slowing the progress of some tasks or activities to match the viscosity of molasses.  You’re also starting to show more of your imagination in playing with toys, feeding blocks to the caterpillars (because they’re VEWWY HUNGEE, you know) and prompting me to feign sadness (MOMMY SAD!) so you can give me kisses to cheer me up (you bet I’m a sucker for that game!).  I started asking you to “Guess what!” a while back, and answered for you with “I love you,” which you’ll now say back most of the time. That is, when it’s not an Everything is No (NO EVERYTHING NO!) time of day.  If it’s time for everything to be NO! then you say NO WUV YOU instead, but most of the time I can turn that into Mommy Sad and still get a kiss (tricky Mama!). Sometimes it morphs into I WOOF YOU, which I guess is Dog for the obvious?  You haven’t really explained, you just laugh (DATS FUNNY!), but it seems like a fairly educated guess, and perhaps your first pun.  We practiced a couple of those last night, and while I’m somewhat doubtful that you really grasp the concept of jokes with words yet, you definitely do enjoy it when DAT SOUNDS FUNNY!  Or, now, DAT’S PUNNY!

You also got your first haircut last week.  I was rather loathe to dispense with your natural, spiral-curl rat-tail, but even without it some curls remain.

Before

Before

After, without much humidity

After, without much humidity

During

It’s already been a great start to summer with you, Ikey – I’m so looking forward to the rest of it, and to everything that will follow.

Love you much,

Mama

by

We’re really having an excellent weekend here.

No way.  Way.  The damn dog.  ATE MY FREE RANGE ORGANIC HAM.  Dick.  I don’t even really LIKE ham that much, but that was some damn good ham.  I made a point to bring it home in its little environmentally friendly biodegradable non-styrofoam container thing.  If only I’d PUT IT IN THE FRIDGE, as a thinking person might do.  Yeah, I bet you are thirsty, little buddy.  Dick.  I brought home the ham, you do the dishes, mkay?  I don’t want to hear that bullshit about not having opposable thumbs.  That’s horseshit.  Or bullshit.  Yeah, whatever I said.

by

Survival of the Utterly Unfit

Well that was a great big limit FAIL.  Ugh.  Yesterday was horrendous…and I either celebrated or commiserated way too enthusiastically last night.  Apparently I have no concept of my own limitations.  No wonder random people try to mother me…I sorta need it, I guess.  Gross.  My own mother would be ashamed of that sentence.  Mkay….managed to make own coffee, check.  Where…is…the cup I poured?  Mmmhmmm.  Kitchen is always a decent guess.  What can one wear to make a…hmmm….  There are no words for how much today is going to suck.  Bad day is just not going to cut it.  Let’s use a dog analogy.  Dexter always chases rabbits.  Of course – even if they’re on the other side of the fence.  I never said he was smart.  He’s a dog, and someday dagnabbit…he just might catch one.  But I doubt it.  You know how it’s easy it is to confuse a dog (or, my dog, anyway) by pretending to throw the ball?  They go running…it’s hilarious and all?  Well, this morning he RAN RIGHT PAST the rabbit.  While he was trying to chase it.  So…yeah.  What do you wear to an office like that?

– not undecided can’t help you tie your tie.

by

Grace in Small Things

  1. Watching Mike’s parents, especially his mom, fawn all over Dexter.  Silly.
  2. The way his dad calls me Hon.  Or maybe it’s Hun, but still.
  3. Finally going to his aunt’s house for Thanksgiving.  Hard to believe we got out of that for what, seven years?  That’s ridiculous.
  4. Christmas Ale!  
  5. Goofy games with my parents and siblings and our significant others.  So, what’s yours like?  Hilarious.
by

Puppy Love

A few days ago the subject of Ben Stein came up. I must admit a strong dislike for most of what he says, but this one clip from 60 Minutes came to mind:

Not the worst advice I’ve ever heard, really. Dexter, also known here as The Coolest Dog Evah, Dex, D-Mac, Stinky Puppy, Buddy, Shit for Brains, Dickhead (nobody can be good ALL the time, right?), Licking Machine, Puppy Wuppy and Crackhead, gets more fun by the day, I swear. Most of his little annoying habits are lessening; if only he’d stop eating grass. I have to Google that. If you’re at all considering getting a dog, check out petfinder.org or if you happen to be anywhere near Xenia, Ohio, definitely work with 4 Paws for Ability. Anyway, I read yesterday that his veterinarian died, an accidental drowning in a pond right behind his own house. Very sad. Dex had only even seen him once or twice, but Mike really liked the guy, too. Having never met him myself though, it did jog my memory in another direction – not only is today our seven year fauxnniversary, but according to his papers from 4 Paws for Ability, today is Dexter’s second birthday.


Awww. Someone needs a party hat! Sorry Pup, you still can’t have my beer. How about a bacon flavored corn cob?

by

Grace in Small Things

  1. Dexter not being able to catch and mangle the rabbits that dare enter our yard when he’s out.
  2. Figuring out how I hurt my wrist.
  3. Finding something I thought I lost in a place that should have been obvious to look for it.
  4. A friend giving me an enormous bottle of wine, just because she had six.
  5. The sunflower seeds I planted are sprouting.
by

I am an asshole, but a lucky one

Today did not start of well. It’s my own fault. In a usual distracted manner, I pull out of the driveway and head down the hill, and absently pick up the mp3 player to get some Monday morning blues dispelling tunes going. I really need one of those dock with suction cups thingamajigs. You know, so it’s attached to the dashboard and you don’t have to go fishing for it and forget to look up and hit a curb really fucking hard and scratch up your hubcap and totally flatten your fucking tire. Yeah. One of those.

So, I stop, get out to inspect the damage, and nearly start crying for the fact that if I REALLY hadn’t been paying attention, I could have mowed down a little kid or something. PAY ATTENTION, DUMBASS. Tire looks flat as flat can be, so I quickly consider. Mike had already left for work. I could theoretically try to put the donut on myself, but that just kind of makes me laugh, honestly. I mean, if there are directions on any of the equipment, surely I could, like, follow them or something. Think positively! But in reality, by the time I did that I’d be a nasty grimy sweaty mess and have to re-shower before going to work.

Second option. Call AAA. Not a bad idea, but then I’d still have to wait on them to get there, put the donut on, and feel awkward about whether I tip. I never know the etiquette there. So I turn around accompanied by this gawdawful screeching whining sound and pull back onto a side street and park it. I called my work buddy to see if she was already at work. Luckily she was still on the road, so she turned around to come pick me up. After I arranged that, I realize that I had walked out the door without my laptop. Surprising, since I’d spent nearly all weekend glued to the thing. (Loving it, by the way. I’ve had zero Vista problems so far, knock on wood.) So I hoof it back up the hill to retrieve it, walk back down to the car, then realize I left my phone in the house when I went back to get the computer. Organization FAIL. Not to mention the fact that I was already carrying two purses this morning, having been too lazy and indecisive to transfer the contents fully to one or the other. Plus a cardigan and a denim jacket, because I couldn’t make up my mind which looked less unprofessional, and anyways half the time the air conditioning at work is cold enough to make one of my coworkers comment that she’d have to now reserve all her unpadded bras for weekend wear. An extra sweater plus a jacket is sometimes totally necessary. I’m not the most decisive decision maker in the world, needless to say.

Where was I? Oh yes, making the second hike back up to the house to get my phone. At this point poor Dexter thinks I’m just fucking with him. He gets all bummed out on weekday mornings because he knows that if we’re both showering and running around, we’re leaving him. Sometimes I try to go home at lunch, but seeing me come back inside twice in the less than 20 minutes after I left the first time, he was so excited I thought he might pee himself. So I let him out, brought him back in, and hiked back down to the car. I’m still hoping he doesn’t get pissy and chew on something today. He usually doesn’t harm anything, but every once in a while he just can’t help his still-kinda-a-puppy curiosity. Especially when nobody’s watching.

All in all, it could have been way worse, but I don’t know yet how much it’ll cost us to repair whatever damage I’ve done to the tire/rim/whatever.

So, how has your Monday been so far?

by

Memorial Day

Things sprang to life last week while we were on vacation. I am loving it! Perennials are the shit, I say. I’m still really nervous about whether the flower seeds will do much, but even if they don’t I have some interesting things to watch.

Up front, the purple geraniums seem to be done with their first flush of flowers, but the light pink and the bright pink are coming on strong.

Some other unknown pink volunteer. Stunning color.

Irises still coming on.

Buds on the daylilies
Dexter surveying the backyard.
Tomato flower!

The first sundrop flower!
The Siberian iris I put in last year that never bloomed is fricking spectacular this year. Budded and opened last week; the flowers are huge.
Looks like the very last lilac bloom on the Julianae – sob. No matter, plenty of other things to follow.
by

Manic Monday

Where to begin? Friday. Friday was awesome. We and our dinner guests ate like pigs and drank like fish and the Dexter was soooo gooooood. The secret seems to be bribery. I think he now understands that when people come over and he doesn’t snack on them, he gets to snack on Pupperoni and cheese morsels and peanut-butter filled kong toys and pig ears and…yeah, we basically spoil the crap out of him. But it works, and that’s just fine. He’s food-motivated, so we should use that. Still need to use our free follow-ups with the behaviorist and work on “stay” and crate training, but the biting was really of course our main concern. We’re still cautious and keep him on the leash when we have people over just in case he freaks out and lunges or something, but I’m beginning to really trust him.

Saturday was just as good. My friend from college and her husband came over and Dexter was just as well behaved as the night before. He does still panic a bit when people first enter the house, but he calms quickly and makes friends (the way to his heart is definitely his belly – feeding it but also belly rubs, too cute!).

Yesterday was also very nice. Super sale @ Macy’s, so I got a suit to wear to NYSCC next week, plus shoes (OMG SHOEZ) and a big floppy hat and Nicole Richie-esque sunglasses for the beach the week after. I am so ready for a week of no worries, just sand, surf, sunshine, seafood and serenity. Time to bust out the bikinis! I am deeply conflicted over whether it will still be appropriate to wear the skimpy ones after the dirty thirty comes and goes. Mike of course sees no issue, but he’s a little biased and frankly probably blind to cellulite. Haha. That’s a smart husband, right there.