In a moment of puppy-induced insanity...

Are we crazy? Is it like labor, how they say you forget the pain and that is the only reason you do it again? Is it the puppy breath? Or the over sized paws she kept tripping over? Maybe the layers of extra skin under that soft fur?

Whatever it was, it worked because we brought home an 8 week old Chocolate lab this week. We named her Harley - I suppose in homage to the bike Eric doesn't have yet. Somehow, naming her Honda after his current ride never came up...

So yes, here were are in the throes of insanity, kennel training and living with this animal that we are fairly certain would eat us alive if we didn't physically remove our extremities from her mouth.

But, man, she's so cute...

Oh so close!

The good luck kisses didn't work this time...

In the last regular season game, Eric finally did what every adult dreads when they join a sports team - Blew out his knee. Meniscus. It will be a few weeks before he can have surgery and is supposed to be on crutches until then. But do you think he'll use them? Hasn't stopped him from assistant coaching Parker's football team, coaching a fastpitch camp and riding his motorcycle every day.

Best part? We're SURPRISING the kids with a trip to Disneyland next weekend. Eric came home from his Dr. appointment with this announcement:

"Good news and bad news. Bad news is I need surgery. Good news is, I've got a disabled pass to Disneyland."

Find the silver lining where you can, right?

It's not slow-pitch!

Eric braved his first double-header yesterday in 90 degree heat. It was a long and hot day under all that gear, but he hung in there and only got out from behind the dish for 3 innings. Those were spent in left field, but we won't talk about that. It wasn't pretty and justified his rule #3 in the "Loveriches Don't" list that is constantly being recited to the kids. (Example: Rule #1 Loveriches don't bunt.) Someday we'll have coaches thanking us for instilling such un-coachability in them. Sorry coach, Dad says I can't bunt, play right field, etc... In his defense, "Loveriches don't quit" is #2. And speaking of, check out the souvenir Eric came home with. I went to pat his back after the game and found a half-baseball sized knot inside his right shoulder blade. He'd taken a fastball there early in the 2nd game. "Did it leave a mark?" he asked? I'd say!

Secrets revealed!!!

I had a friend ask me out-of-the-blue this weekend, "What is your secret?"

Secret what? Identity? Antiperspirant? But seeing the way she waited for my answer, I realized she was giving me what I considered the ultimate compliment. Most of you who know me, know that I am not one to spout off relationship advice or blah-blah about my marriage, but I am proud of us, so having someone recognize that... Well, it was nice.

I told her what I believe to be true - Eric and I have seen each other through a lot of "stuff". All of that created a really strong base. It is a base that will either catch you when you fall, provide a jumping point for us or a home to return to if we've gotten off track.

As I mulled it over this week, I found a few more:

Don't forget how you started. We weren't always waving from separate cars on the highway as we darted kids to different practices and functions.

Honesty (I know, generic and obvious). Not just on the big things, but even, "You know when you (whatever)? That pissed me off." Then try to work it out.

On that same note, be able to apologize. I am not the best at this, but I know I'm better than I used to be. That leads me to my last "secret."

Evolve. None of these may apply in a week. The secret is to be ready for anything and for nothing to look like you thought it would. Trying to plan ahead for emotional experiences is ridiculous.

So that's what I've got, right now. Anyone got a better secret I could pass on?

I left my heart in Lilliwaup

*As a writer, I was always taught to remove myself from my subject so as to avoid sappy, over-emotional pieces. Sorry. No can do this time. Proceed carefully, this has the potential to go knee deep.

Sleepaway camp seemed like such a great idea in the doldrums of Winter when Maddie and Parker were fighting like cats and dogs, it was pouring rain outside, we'd played 'Sorry' innumerable times, seen every episode of Hannah Montana and our waistlines couldn't stand another cookie-baking-and-decorating activity.

But we dropped Maddie off Sunday for 4 days and 3 nights of Girl Scouting adventure in a picturesque spot at the foot of the Hood Canal - Camp Robbinswold.

The past few days find me attached to my cellphone and when home, toting around that phone, too. I am a wreck! Nighttime has been the worst for all of us. Parker looks out the window and says a prayer for Maddie's safety, Eric and I can't even talk about it, we get lost in books or ESPN and hope to drift off to sleep.

I'm better than day one, where I cried at any mention of Maddie, daughters, Moms, camping, college... You can imagine how fun I was to be around, especially since the house is testosterone central this week. I know this is just the first of many, many, independent adventures for her. We are all looking forward to hearing her stories and seeing her pictures and just having her light in our house again.

As we left, I heard an exchange that I've been replaying all week. She introduced herself to a girl that was there alone (most campers came in pairs): "Hi. I'm Maddie, this is my friend Amy. You should bunk with us. It's going to be awesome!"

You REALLY should write these down...

Somehow, I've ended up with kids that say and do some of the most outrageous things - even on the scale of kidspeak. Sometimes I think Art Linkletter could have saved himself a lot of time and just come to hang out with Maddie and Parker.

So, the latest experience that has me shaking my head and wondering what I've done to karma happened yesterday at the public swimming pool in front of about 50 parents.

Parker, who has been taking swimming lessons for THREE years now, has just this week decided that he is terrified of the water. Day one of lessons was alright, a little panic, but still had a kickboard to hang on to as he made his way across the pool. After class that day, he grabbed his towel, stood in front of Eric and I and announced, "No kickboards tomorrow. I'm probably just going to drown." (NOTE: He can swim - he has been for 2 summers now. He's forgotten this.)

So after enjoying his "last meal" (a bowl of Honey Bunches of Oats), we headed off to his execution. Parker jumped in the pool and immediately popped back up to tell me he wasn't feeling well. "You can do it!" I encouraged from the full bleachers. And he started out. He made it 90% of the way across, literally one of his own body lengths away from the other side, began treading water and yelling that he was drowning(his head never went under water). His teacher shoved him to the wall and he climbed out. Because of the screaming and thrashing, we had the attention of the entire audience.

I pulled out every parenting theory I'd ever heard about. I sat on the deck, hugged, encouraged, cooed at, coaxed, threatened, grounded, everything short of beating him and throwing him back in. All to no avail. So we headed back to sit and watch his class and I told him he was going to have to call his Dad and tell him what happened, this he found the most upsetting. Here we stood in front of the aforementioned full bleachers and Parker began to scream -

"You don't care about me! You want me to die in the pool! You don't care about me at all! You wish I was dead! You don't even love me. You would be happy if I drowned!"

So I've been found out. I had a son just so I could have him killed in the community pool.

As you can imagine, I received SOOO much helpful advice from several parents in the stands and filthy, dirty looks from several others.

Does anyone know when the ballots are available for Mother Of The Year?

NPR: Walking in the Light

Paul Thorne wrote this essay and read it last Sunday on the NPR program Walking in the Light. Here's link to the essay, but I encourage everyone to listen to it in his voice.
http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=91740464