Emmrie Turned 2!

Wow! This is a little late, but I'm finally getting around to Emmrie's second birthday last weekend. She turned two, and boy, is it obvious! What a little spit-fire she is! And we love her still...

We didn't do too much for her. In fact, it wasn't even until I heard Kortney say, "Emmrie, you're 2 today!" that I remembered it was her birthday. Poor girl. So, we went shopping to get her presents after Kortney left for school. Taylor helped me wrap them when we got home, while Emmrie took a nap, and then we made her cake. My typical birthday cake. In fact, I forgot to get frosting when we were at the store, so I asked Neil to pick some up on his way home from work, then he frosted it by warming it in the microwave, and pouring it over the top of the cake. It looked like one of those fondue cakes for a little while, until Neil used the spreader on it. She loved licking the frosting off the spreader, and watching Dad light the candles with one of those clicker starters. We ate cake first, because the big girls insisted, then she opened her presents so they could all fight over them before we forced them to bed. Sometimes I feel like such a wonderful mom, you know? Not that day, of course. This is why I just feel completely inferior to those moms who bake homemade cakes, throw lavish parties, and look so cute and done up in all the perfect birthday photos. Well, okay- not really inferior, just exhausted when I hear what they did. I don't think I would do it all. Sanely. What does little Rhett have to look forward to? Not much,

apparently.

Just a few things about Emmrie: She loves to carry around something in her hand at all times, whether it's a baby doll, a stuffed animal, a dog toy at Grandma's house, or a rubber grasshopper at the store. She loves to pester her sisters. Especially Taylor, who is just barely bigger than her. She knows how to push their buttons. She can scream like no other. Oh my word. If we're all deaf by her next birthday, you'll know why. She has the cutest little smile (which she refused to show the photographer the other day), and the funnest little giggle, especially when Daddy tickles her. She loves to pull her shirt over her head and try to walk around, hates to wear pants now that she's potty-trained and I try to get her to wear them, and I have to double-check her when we leave the house because she will put on anyone's shoes when it's time to go somewhere. She hates to say sorry, but when she does, it always comes with a little hug, and a pat on the back. She does a little wave with just her fingers, all together, or a huge, double-handed wave if someone else starts it. She loves her little brother, so much that I have to keep an eye on her when she's around him. She says so many words now, and repeats everything we say. She's putting together small sentences, and her favorite thing to tell me for a few days straight was, "Mommy! Monkeys poop!" That was all Dad... Happy birthday, our sweet little girl! We do love you. Honest!

I Should Be Sad...

... but I'm not.

Hershey has now been M.I.A. for a whole week. Our garage has been clean for a whole week! I have not had to throw out any mangled Barbie toys for a whole week, and he has not woken me up in the middle of the night to go outside to bark at everything for a whole week! I have not put up a single "Lost" poster (aka "Wanted" ad), we haven't checked the pound, because I'm afraid he might be there, and we didn't even mention anything to Kortney about him being gone until she finally said she missed him FOUR DAYS LATER! And I haven't heard another word about him since. See, in my eyes, the whole problem here is that Hershey isn't spayed. We've been meaning to get it done, since he's such a casanova, but then we have to make sure he's current on his vaccines first, and honestly, he's not. Somehow the dogs are just not our top priority. Please don't hate me, all you animal rights activists! We love animals, but we are so not the best dog owners. Good thing Kali is still a good dog despite it all. We'll keep her forever. But anyway, last time he landed himself in the slammer, it cost us as much money to bail him out of there as we originally paid for him, so basically we paid for him twice. Way too much. Well, he came home with a new registration tag that he broke off his collar the next month, and we never got it back on him. I blame his escapes on the fact that he's not spayed, and I will never own another male dog again. So, I called the pound to ask how much it costs to adopt a dog. You know what I found out (and this is FYI for anyone who needs to spay or neuter their own dog- at least in Idaho)? It would cost us more money to bail him out again, and then spay him, than it would to just go in, pretend we don't know him, and "adopt" him, because they'll do the spaying for us! What a good idea (so, just let someone take your dog in as a stray, then go in and adopt him/her the next day, and it'll all be taken care of! Vaccines not included, though). Sad thing is, what turned me off of the whole idea is that the county puts a chip in all the animals they adopt out. What if the spaying doesn't fix him, and he still poops in the garage (let me just tell you: clean garage = happy husband), then runs away, and gets picked up again? By that point I'll want to just leave him at the pound forever, but then they'll find out that he's ours, and make us take him back! So I live with the guilt of never knowing if he made it there. If anyone wants him, go check the pound. He's a good dog. He's housebroken. Most of the time. Just don't let him in your garage.