Gravity & Pug Companionship

Everyone who knows me is well aware of my distaste for cold temperatures, especially when ice cold raindrops the size of my gigantic head are falling from the sky at the speed of EFFINGFAST! Unfortunately,weather shenanigans or not,the pug coalition must relieve themselves in a timely manner.

My back deck is slippery on a good day, today, it has gone right past slippery straight to,"Hold on to yer britches lady! You're going down!" So I herd my flat faced crew outside and three of the four happily enter potty time bliss...rain be damned.

Cullen shares my weather hatred and just as I go to step forward,he plants his fat ass on my remaining foot and I stumble. Because I'm holding my hot chocolate with marshmallows in my awesome pug mug in my hands,I crash onto my knees. My right knee tells me to kindly f*ck off and gives out. Me, on my tummy and arms outstretched to save said mug and its contents and oompa loompa sized sleet all over my back and inevitability this sleet concoction drips down the crack of my ass. Any movement and that water will melt and my ass is SOAKED.

Seeing my dispair and hearing my profanity laced rant led Bella,Tru and Joey to line up at face level to give me props on saving my mug and warm beverage. Cullen climbed up on my wet ass and laid down. OY!

PSSST: I'm including pics of the ready made lake beside my house that I partially fell into along with the guilty party that.not only tripped me but sat on me when I was down.

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Thankful & Blessed

I am a self admitted jerk,wise ass, loudmouth, vain little shit. I've always lacked the ability to stop the onslaught of descriptive words and profanity before they flow fluently past my lips. It's a blessing and a curse. One never has to wonder what I'm thinking, including those that really shouldn't know. I will admit, it is humorous for others and most times,myself as well. It has however, gotten me into a few pickles that haunt me to this day.

Apparently, telling your boss (should I say FORMER boss & no I wasn't fired) that he needs to keep his pimp hand strong and kick the b*tches to the curb when they show up late,call off,pass out on the clock,etc. may not have been professional but it was true. I was helping him to understand that HE is in charge. It was a wasted effort.

Or perhaps the time I texted a lengthly rant about a coworker to that coworker I was ranting about. Oh yeah,that was fun! Or arguing politics or religion with my mother in any capacity. Oy!

All my faults, attention deficit disorder, obsessive compulsive  disorder and the total lack of filtering each word that.flies out of my mouth. I'm me. No more, no less. I'll always tell the truth . I love that about me.

I have the most loyal friends in the world.My Kellie has been my rock through it all. Jessica, Amber, Lori and Mikey: I know I can count on yall without second thought. My brothers Mikhy and his husband Mike are phenomenal people and I love them!

The loves of my life, my children:Pacey,Ashton,Sophie Anabelle are the reason my world keeps spinning. Even when they're driving me nuts , I love them more than life itself.

I have a husband of ten years that finds no humor in me or my put obsession. Though he claims to loathe them but on more than one occassion,I've caught them snuggling.

What I'm saying is I'm blessed and thankful for the people in my life and the pugs that run it!!

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Attention:Otto has entered the work force!!

You read it here fella's, Otto is a working' pug! Otto has settled in amazingly in stunning California with his Mommie Lori,Daddy CR and fabulous Grandma Nonie! His big brother Rocky is showing him the ropes.

Today was his first day at work with Mommie. He helped make the clients feel at home and assisted Mommie in every way!! At the end of the day, his exhaustion took over. Man, its hard out there for a pug!!

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Otto's unbelievable adventure!

What an adventure it has been!!! Otto was initially scheduled to fly to sunny California on Monday the 21st but because of my amazing immune system I had been in the ER with walking pneumonia and a raging sinus infection. We postponed his flight plans and were scheduled for a Weds flight and little Otto would get to spend his first Thanksgiving with his Mommie Lori!

I woke up early Weds, rushed the kids to school and began our seriously long trek to Indianapolis International Airport. We arrived on time and went to check in only to find that his flight was booked as a companion flight meaning they had him scheduled as flying with passengers WITH someone. Who, I do not know.

I spoke to an agent with the airline that happens to rhyme with shmelta, welta, belta.....Aww Eff it,DELTA! Mother effin DELTA!

I'll have you know,I was perfectly pleasant,polite and nice. I explained our situation and in a rude tone she says,"Ma'am, I don't understand the issue,he will be flying with you. Isn't that what you want?"

First of all,I'm not a ma'am. Jerk. Secondly,I had no plans or intention of flying to California and I certainly never booked myself a flight to California,therefore, I wouldn't have booked Otto a flight to accompany me on an imaginary trip. This theory was lost on her. I explained in the most simple terms I could muster that *I* am not booking a trip to California,I never booked one and I did not book a passenger flight for this four and a half pound flat faced hug from Jesus. Once again, she did not understand this concept.

With time ticking away, I asked for her supervisor. Another lady appeared and greeted me as "ma'am"....fuuuuuuudge! Really people!?! I was dressed nice, in nice clothing, amazing boots and make up, I am a young lady, not a ma'am!

I show her my confirmation and she sees that I booked a CARGO flight for a baby pug and all that jazz,yet she is insisting that is not what I am currently booked for. I finally lay it all down for her,"I cannot possibly go to California today. I have to pick my kids up from school. CPS would not he thrilled with me if I left the state woo Willy nilly without first picking my children up at school. Secondly, he was booked CARGO which is far different than a passenger flight." Really,if I was more fluent in sign language,I would've tried that next. As it was,it took all my self control not to flip her the double bird and go out in a blaze of glory. I cancelled his imaginary flight and Delta insisted I pay a cancellation fee. I insisted they kiss my ass and they removed the cancellation fee.

I rebooked his cargo flight for the following Friday, the day after Thanksgiving and enlisted my husband and three hooligan children to help me send Otto to his Mommie with all the love in the world.

After a hearty breakfast, we loaded the car and a freshly bathed Otto into Lucie Lancer and once again drove the twoish hours to Indianapolis Airport. We arrived on time and took woo our paperwork and necessary items inside where we encountered douchebag John. Do you know what Shrek looks like? John is the caucasion Shrek with dirtier teeth and a stick lodged so far up his over sized ass that major surgery would be required to remove it and even then I'm quite sire he would need electroshock therapy to begin to move past major asshole douchebag to regular bastard.

I hand over my paperwork and confirmation and this smug mother f*cker scooter Otto's health certificate and says,"He can't fly. His age is missing. "

I try the nice approach and inquire as to what my options are. He shrugs, "Go get a new certifcate."

I start crying. Lori has already been postponed twice and this is number three. I call my vet, he insists he talk to bastardo John that works for Quantem in Indianapolis Indiana to rectify this situation. John refuses, simply because he is an asshole with a complex. Apparently refusing a flight for a four and a half pound pug makes you a big man. Whatevah. I,with the amazing Dr. Holt on the phone, tell John that I am the breeder. Otto was born in my family room,IN MY LAP! On my Aero pj pants that were forever ruined on September 11,2011.

Our fabulous,caring and exceptional vet offered to meet us halfway with a new health certificate so Otto could make his flight. I ask John if that would be ok and this jabba the hut impersonater points to his swatch watch and says,"You won't make it. You have one minute."

He refuses to talk to the vet,cancels the flight and told me to leave. It *might* have been my colorful and descriptive choice of words towards him....maybe.

I call the inept employees of Delta and explain the situation and the lady ....I use the term loosely in that I have no proof that she has a vagina but she sounded as if it were a remote possibility...anyway, this person isn't as big of an asshole but she too charges a cancellation fee on a flight John (douchebag at Quantem in Indianapolis,Indiana) cancelled. She suggests that I rebook. I suggested she my ass.

I called Continental and the staff was sympathetic,sweet,kind and professional. They booked Otto on their next flight and gave is specific and detailed confirmation instructions. Because we had spent most of the week in the car driving two hours each way to and from the airport for each failed trip, we opted to get a hotel room and spend the night. We went to the mall and the boys ended up meeting their new idol, professional skateboarder Daniel Taylor. He was fantastic with the boys,took photos with them and gave them posters, already this trip was a blessing! We ate out,came back to the hotel and watched Shrek The Final Chapter and Men in Black, spending our last hours with little Otto-mation-station! All three flipped out when Frank the pug showed up on TV!

As the night wound down, we bathed little Otto,clipped his nails and snuggled him until 3:30am when we had to leave to take him to the airport where he effortlessly made his flight and made his way home to California where his Mommie Lori and the fabulous Nonie were awaiting his arrival anxiously! I'm pleased to say that Otto is now and forever Otto Hodgson. We are so lucky to have spent this much time with such a truly spectacular puppy and as heartbroken as we are to have to part with his beautiful face,we are overwhelmed with joy knowing he is with the most loving family in the world!!!

P. S. In case you were wondering, Delta sucks and they can kiss my ass!

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Otto: the offender

Scratch that. REPEAT OFFENDER! As our days with little Otto are numbered,we are relishing our every second with him. This morning as we were leaving for school,Otto sat at my feet with his pleading eyes looking up at me. *sigh*

We scooped him up and put his sweater on and took him on our morning school adventure. He slept peacefully in each kids lap until we reached our destination and dropped the xy chromosomes off at their school. Otto snuggled into Miss Sophie Anabelle's lap and resumed his sleep.

Roughly fifteen minutes later,my nose started to twitch. I though a possible sneeze was about to come to fruition. My nose then started to burn....hmmmm. it is at this time that my four year old diva alerts me of the terrorist attack in the back seat, Otto dropped a duece.

You read that correctly, the normally impeccable and well mannered Otto shit in my car. Not only did he shit in my Lucie Lancer, he shit and released a stench that had to have come from the pits of hell. Oy!

I pull over,assess damage and clean and febreeze the affected area. Yes,I have febreeze in the car,need I remind you that ky human children have animalistic car habits?

Once the damage has been properly cleaned and Otto has been given a potty break,we hit the road again. This is the part of the story where I remind you that AFTER he took the browns to the superbowl, I took him ON A POTTY BREAK. Noted?

There we are happily cruising down the road,Sophie is playing Fruit Ninja and I'm listening to Bob and Tom. Otto is seemingly happy and chewing on his angry bird. A split second later,I hear a slight dripping sound followed by an opening of pug floodgates. Otto is draining the puggie lizard in the OTHER seat---with a grin plastered on his flat face.  Holy mutha of gawd!!

Pfffft. The fountain of mini k9 urine over powered the lovely smell of febreeze that covered the smell of the puggie dog logs that had previously been dropped.

Needless to say, my car seats have been resolved and scrubbed and Otto is looking at me guiltily. Oy! It's drink o'clock....right?

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I had a slight overzealous moment in which I decided to clear the fridge of leftovers and make a chocolate pie.

Few sounds can rile the attentions of  my flat faces as quickly as a fridge door opening. Lawd, you've heard of the running of the bulls? They have nothing on the pug coalition. Nails click against the hardwood floors as they run as fast as they can to take position in the kitchen just in case I happen to drop a morsel of food.

I start with the freezer and the snorting starts,in the process of the freezer inspection, I might have dropped an ice cube or two.

Like an amatuer, I crouch down to start with the fridge shenanigans. There I am, knee deep (hypothetically) in this psuedo Martha Stewart tomfoolery when something cold and wet drips down my buttcrack......then continues to drip.

I'm immediately alarmed,not alarmed enough to stand up quite yet but enough to reach around and retrieve the cold,wet ice chunk from the crack of my ass. That made me stand up. Behind me were four adult pug faces and one baby pug face ridden with guilt. I'm unsure of who the culprit was but I will find out!!

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Eww! why!?!

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Overindulgent Lumberjack

Yup,that's me. I've made it no secret that I harbor grand delusions of myself in almost all ways. In fact, I can be a vain little jerk. On Saturday when I prepared my cuteness routine for an epic girls night out, I spent at least an hour in the mirror. Hair blown dry and straightened,make up applied and blended carefully, clothing and jewelry painstakingly chosen. I swear on all that is holy, I looked in the mirror for an absurd amount of time and not only found myself attractive but I took this delusion further by claiming that I rocked it.

I've filled you in on the GNO shenanigans and tomfoolery and outlandish drunkenness,and of course I documented this jackassery with an overload of photos. These photos were going to be PROOF of my effort and obvious cuteness and while I was drunk,I still held this as truth.

Two days later as I take another Goody's headache powder and reevaluate these reminders of my effort and time,I have come to the conclusion that I am an unphotogenic,overindulgent lumberjack. Eff.

Upon this sobering discovering,I've decided it is imperative that I eat better and work out. I decided this as I unwrapped and devoured roughly seven small cherry laffy taffys's. I'm considering a bake sale or Mojito fundraiser to pay for a large amount of plastic surgery. Hmmm. By the way, did I mention I made a chocolate pudding pie with cool whip on top? Lawd.

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Public Service Announcement

*this* is why you don't drink in excess kids! I'm in plaid on the right plagued by the look of death and dispair. I feel as bad as I look.

And this is my Cullen Carlisle.....he isn't hungover but he is feeling sympathy pains for Mommie.

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Clearly, I have learned *nothing*

Remember my overindulgence in adult beverages over Halloween weekend? Obviously my memory of the horrific agony vanished from my memory as my best girls and I ventured out on a Girls Night Out slumber party.

Dinner at Quaker Steak & Lube started out with a cherrilicious lemonade, filled with alcohol. It was amazing. Then I was informed by Lucas G (waiter dude) that if I bought a specific drink,I could keep the mason jar it was served in. Initially,the jar itself didn't appeal to me,what did appeal to me was that it said LUBE on the front. Why yes,I'll drink one of those.

Two drinks gave me a buzz and we headed to our hotel to check in and hit the hot tub. We swam, we hottubbed and reestablished our cuteness and called Otis,the biggest,baddest cab drivin' mo fo in the greater Fort Wayne area. He arrived promptly at out lobby door, opened our door for us and took us swiftly to our destination, Snickerz comedy club.

By this time,I couldnt wait to continue the consumption of adult beverages and opted for a big ass long island iced tea,also served in a big ass jar.

This effer was HUGE, I had two, a cherry bomb and a smurf shot and a basket of corn dog nuggets and curly fries. I felt invincible,until we stood up and the alcohol surged through my body. LORT!(I stole this word from puggilicious Laura). I was drunnnnk, because we went to snickerz,we got free admission to Pierres, a club that has five other clubs within.

This is where things get fuzzy, I know for a fact that I had a captain and coke, a Jamaican cow boy and at least five tube shots, probably more since these ladies walk around Willy nilly allowing you to buy these mid dance. Mid flipping dance!

*running man*

*shot*

*cabbage patch*

*shot*

*sprinkler*

*shot*

It has also been proven that we do have moves like Jagger. Just sayin'. Then we danced like 21year old spring chickens and were invited onstage by the drummer of the band. Winning!

We finally got back to the hotel around 4 and crash shortly thereafter. Three and a half mother effin hours later, Jessica is fairly sure she smells bacon. I look at the time on the digital clock and go back to sleep. Once everyone but me is up and ready,I stumble out of bed and take a hot shower. Head pounding,eyes won't open and the overwhelming urge to vomit or possibly shit myself. Oy. Brushed my teeth,took a headache powder and made the excruitiating walk with my cohorts to the hotel lobby to eat our free breakfast.

I'm torn,I have no desire whatsoever to consume anything but I also have no desire to he so hungry I get ill. Scrambled eggs, hashbrowns and an English muffin fill and make me want to wretch. We are surrounded by joyful, sober morning people and we are droopy eyed,exhausted,haggard looking bunch of over achieving drinkers. Oy! I find out that I taught a Haitian how to say Willy Nilly, Shenanigans and Tomfoolery. You are welcome.

I'm at home now, armed with red powerade and tylenol and goody's headache powder. I feel like HAIL. I'm too old for this yo,too datum old. But it was so much fun. Huge huge love to my girls Amber,Jessica and Heather for a stellar time!!!!

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The Parrow Pugs say HI

Joey,Trudy,Cullen,Otto and Bella say hi!! We are enjoying our last days with Otto before his adventure home to California!

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Things that make ya go......REALLY!?!

Something about my face attracts pugs,specifically pug asses to attempt to sit on my face. While I do consider them very childlike, I have yet to allow a kidlet to sit on my face and will never extend an invitation for a pug to do so.

Unfortunately,my rag tag crew of nose challenged furbabies either did not receive this message or they are a misguided gang of personal space invaders.

Most of my blogs seem to center around my infamous papasan chair. I realize they aren't gorgeous or stylish but what they are is a hug from Jesus. I mean really, who doesn't want to lounge in a bowl of soft,comfy pillows? Pfffft, I do.

I'm watching Horrible Bosses (hysterical and profanity filled,just the way I like it) and little Otto whines on the floor for snuggles,I pick him up and he nuzzles in and nods to sleep. Three of the four big flat faces are sleeping on the couch blissfully,Cullen somehow spots that Otto has made his way  to the promised land and has no intention of not getting just as much,if not more,snuggle time.

Due to his.....um.....curves, his ability to jump up onto the bowl of pillows is seriously hindered. I take pity on this attention starved puglet and heave him onto my lap. Fairly sure I strained something.

I lean down and get comfy only to look up in time to see a pug ass of gigantic proportions in the process of sitting on my face. I had just enough time to turn my head to the left before it happened. Pug ass on the face. Oy! Really??

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Yu-Gi-Oh Inspiration

This is from my Facebook dated 8-30-11

While waiting for our pizza for dinner,Pacey decided that today was the day. Now was the time. This conversation was not only imperative and urgent but a matter of life and death in the 4th grade kingdom.

Yu-Gi-Oh cards, the appdrent equivalent to crack to 4th grade testosterone fueled mini men in training.

*sigh*

I'm a girl. I don't understand this nonsense. Special attacks,rare cards, limited edition foil cards that shimmer and shine. I prefer my shimmer and shine in the form of diamonds and platinum ... but I digress.

Not only is my son driven by the pure and unchallenged allure and magic of these said cards,I am pretty sure he is the pusher of this 4th grade card epidemic taking over recess and all the mini men in training that he encounters.

I'm dealing with his Yu-Gi-Oh "Godfather" status. I figure a few bowls of lucky charms will dull the confusion, we will see.

As I am processing these insightful and truly captivating words,he pulls out the big guns.

"Ya know Mom, at Target for only 19.99 they have this gold box with black on the front and a large red dragon on it. Its full of important and crucial cards. I'm getting good grades and umm...I have allowance."

This kid is cute. I don't think he fully comprehends that I've been at this begging thing way longer than he has. I literally want to squeeze the hell out of him. I love that kid. And yes,the con artist will most likely get his fix.....I mean CARDS!

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Youthful Novelty

The fabulous Miss Sophie Anabelle has a black Halloween shirt with bones,candy, all that nonsense. She wore it today for the first time....yeah, AFTER Halloween. Aside from the fact the shirt had glitter on it,she didn't take notice of much else.

Sophie and I took the pug alliance out to make a sissy (pug pee pee) and came back in. While its colder than the north effin pile outside,it is sunny. I managed to wiggle a miracle out of Miss Thang and negotiate a nap for a pair of new shoes. Listen,what she doesn't know is that I was going to purchase her some snazzy new kicks anyway so really, I win and and she has healthy delusions of winning. As Charlie Sheen would say,"I'm bi-winning! I'm winning here....I'm winning there!"

I'm snuggled in the double papasan chair with the flat faces and Sophie when she declares she too must make a sissy. Oy! She wiggled free of our furry and sleepy snuggles and prances down the hallway gleefully.

Less than a minute later....a shrill,blood curdling scream. All of us shoot up and are haul assing down the dayum hallway to find Sophie ushering us all into the bathroom,shutting the door and turning off the light.

Now I couldn't see the pugs as we were in the dark but I'm fairly sure they were saying,"Uh mom, this is harshing our morning mellow...Wtf dood ( pug for dude)."

Apparently, the skeletal system on this old navy shirt glows in the dark. The pug nation cannot see their little girl but they do see floating and glowing bones! Gah! They go past batshit and go immediately into apeshit crazy status. Trudy is howling, Cullen is screaming, Joey couldn't care less and plops his round ass on my feet. Bella goes bananas barking as if her noise level will somehow earn her unlimited arby's roast beef sandwiches. All this commotion leads little baby Otto to violently piss down the front of my way cute Hollister shirt. Sweet hell. You can scare the piss out of a pug,FYI.

So, if any of yall are wondering, I'd urge you not to shut your pugs in a dark bathroom with you if there is any indication that glowing items will be present. Oy!

Oh, Happy Thursday!!

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I'm swelling with pride!

Lucky for me,I was never one to harbor much shame. My delusions have led me a pretty blissful and happily ignorant existence. That being said, my human kids make me insanely proud. They're always bringing home works of art,aced spelling tests or some new development in their educations.

In these new.developments,sometimes we find rare instances of pure comedic gold. This one,I think, ranks right up there with a.previous hand drawing of a "pugshark". This is TECHNICALLY a bean seed. However, a bean seed was not my first take on this assignment. You be the judge.

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Otto Heals A Heart

Hi! This is Otto AKA Otto-mation-station. He is *almost* nine weeks old and preparing for the most exciting trip of his life! In two weeks, he will be traveling all the way to California where he will meet his forever family and his phenomenal Pug Mommie, Lori.

Lori is a dear and personal friend of mine who has been to hell and back,fighting with courage and strength that I can't even fathom. She resigned from a "religion" in which she could no longer morally or ethically be a part of and in doing so, this "religion" ordered her adult children to cease all contact with her.

It is hard to understand that concept taking place in America in 2011 but it happened. She has fought to all lengths to get her kids back and strides have been made. Her story has been in the media and is well documented. Last month her son was involved in a serious motorcycle accident in which he required major surgery and she she was not allowed to see him. She did eventually get to see him very briefly after a lot of preserverance.

As you can imagine, her life since Feb. has been wrought will anguish and heartbreak. Not having daily contact with her children has torn her heart to pieces.

After watching Otto grow from a newborn puppy to a striking mini companion has already filled Lori with immense joy. Just very very recently, she decided he was the flat faced one for her! As his homecoming date arrives,I can see the renewed joy and optimism return to her voice and smile. Pugs can heal hearts and Otto is healing hers! Hug your pug!!

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The Antithesis of Relaxation

Take in this mental picture. I'm in my most comfortable and well worn aeropostle pajama pants and a junky yet incredibly soft long sleeved t shirt snuggled into my double papasan chair with the pugnation snuggling while my beautiful daughter eats her breakfast in the recliner beside me.

Look,we aren't formal people. Actually, it may surprise some of you that we use utensils at all....shoot,there are days I break out the Chinet for those ultra fancy days we dine on Little Ceasars PIZZA PIZZA!

As  the fabulous Miss Sophie Anabelle munches on her nutricious meal, I issue not one--but two warnings to keep her piggies OFF the end table. I had a ginormous honkin' wild cherry Pepsi sitting there in a meek attempt to wake the hell up.

There we are, quietly snuggled in,watching Annie in our super warm house. Say it with me, AHHHHH!

My eyes fluttered,pugs snored softly and I started to doze myself. All of the sudden, something insanely cold started to drip down my face and run down my back. I was positive I didn't pee myself but that was the only fact I was sure of.

In the ruckus, a splash of Cherry Pepsi stayed the pug alliance and sent them into a snorting tizzy of batshit proportions. They clawed me in an attempt to escape the impending tsunami. It was pugs shenanigans.

I bolted up and outta the chair,seriously, you've never seen my carb lovin' ass move in such speed of grace. The pugs and I are standing in the center of the living room trying to piece together what the hell happened and Sophie is sitting completely still,hands folded in her lap and her little pink piggies directly in shot of where my beloved beverage WAS-OY!

Needless to say, the pug nation is scarred for life by the tomfoolery that took place today. I'm considering a bake sale to assist in shouldering their costs of the immediate Dog Whisperer visit.

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Puggie Trouble!

Do you see the look I'm getting here? You know the look, its quite similar to the look of over tired children at bedtime. You may wonder what I could have possibly done to deserve such a look of utter disgust and betrayal.....I shall divulge my dirty little secrets.

Secret #1 I had taco bell without them.  I have no shame whatsoever in admitting my devotion and addiction to Taco Bell. Oh lawd, I could easily consume this high fat,carb filled hug from Jesus daily,multiple times a day. This day I had consumed a tasty treat and in true Mimi fashion, dropped the shiz down the from of my shirt. I reeked of this aroma filled yumminess and did not think to bring home a trunk full of cheap Mexican food for them. *snort* call Animal Cops!

Secret #2 While purchasing dog food for the flat faced nation, I pet another pug in passing. A pug which had not yet had its ass sniffed for their personal inspection and approval. Now y'all know I love my pugs more than life but I have yet to be compelled to roam on my hands and need in search of a.curly tailed pug ass in which to sniff. Sorry fella's, not gonna happen.

Suffice it to say, my arrival home was met with excitement,kisses,reserved sniffing and then....the mean mug. The mean pug mug. Sheesh.

They backed a foot away cautiously in unison. Now let me be the first to let you know that they never do anything in unison unless it involves conspiring to lay a guilt trip on Mommie. They allowed their mass of wrinkles to relax, sighed heavily and looked at me with the sadness and anguish that only this type of abuse can produce.

I'll admit, I felt awful. Because of this ultimate betrayal and my guilt, I opened the fridge, got a few ham slices and cheese and wrapped little treats made out of priceless people food and snuggled each one as he/she scarred down their bribes. Wouldn't ya know, their wrinkles bounced back and grins spread across their faces and I *think* I learned my lesson! Oy!

psst:Otto loves Taco Bell too!

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*sigh*

I read this on a friend's wall earlier this morning and knew I wanted to share this heart-warming true story with all of you. ♥ Our 14-year-old dog Abbey died last month. The day after she passed away my 4-year-old daughter Meredith was crying and talking about how much she missed Abbey. She asked if we could write a letter to God so that when Abbey got to heaven, God would recognize her. I told her that I thought we could so, and she dictated these words: Dear God, Will you please take care of my dog? She died yesterday and is with you in heaven. I miss her very much. I am happy that you let me have her as my dog even though she got sick. I hope you will play with her. She likes to swim and play with balls. I am sending a picture of her so when you see her you will know that she is my dog. I really miss her. Love, Meredith We put the letter in an envelope with a picture of Abbey and Meredith and addressed it to God/Heaven. We put our return address on it. Then Meredith pasted several stamps on the front of the envelope because she said it would take lots of stamps to get the letter all the way to heaven. That afternoon she dropped it into the letter box at the post office. A few days later, she asked if God had gotten the letter yet. I told her that I thought He had. Yesterday, there was a package wrapped in gold paper on our front porch addressed, 'To Meredith' in an unfamiliar hand. Meredith opened it. Inside was a book by Mr. Rogers called, 'When a Pet Dies.' Taped to the inside front cover was the letter we had written to God in its opened envelope. On the opposite page was the picture of Abbey & Meredith and this note: Dear Meredith, Abbey arrived safely in heaven. Having the picture was a big help and I recognized her right away. Abbey isn't sick anymore. Her spirit is here with me just like it stays in your heart. Abbey loved being your dog. Since we don't need our bodies in heaven, I don't have any pockets to keep your picture in so I am sending it back to you in this little book for you to keep and have something to remember Abbey by. Thank you for the beautiful letter and thank your mother for helping you write it and sending it to me. What a wonderful mother you have. I picked her especially for you. I send my blessings every day and remember that I love you very much. By the way, I'm easy to find. I am wherever there is love. Love, God Don't say you're too busy to forward this. Just go ahead and do it

Oy!

It all started quite innocently. Sophie Anabelle crawled into my snuggie covered lap and held my face so gently in her little bitty hands and asked, "Can I have an apple Momma?" I kissed her little pink lips and off she scurried into the kitchen to acquire the apple and start eating it! Less than five minutes later, she comes in and says, "The door is open and the pugs are outside!" I'm like, "Uh, what? Huh? What's that you say? Door? Open? Pugs outside? WHA???" Let me insert a little back story here. When the kids eat apples, I allow them to toss them out into the backyard for birds, raccoons, what the hell ever wants to scurry through my yard for a mid day snack. Before you call PETA, I am fairly sure that no wild animal ever bit the big one from an apple core. It has yet to turn a rodents intestines into mush as a result of one bite. Needless to say, Miss Fashionista took a total of three bites of this abnormally large apple and decided her starvation had subsided and she was ready to discard her core....or whole damn apple...into the yard. In doing so, she didn't fully shut the door and my flat faced little detectives picked up on this fact. Of course, rambunctious Miss Tru found a way to shove her smooshed face through the crack, push the door open and allow them total and unsupervised freedom. Now when I tell you they went batshit crazy, that is exactly what I mean. These curly tailed mo fo's ran around like they had just been given the gift of mobility. They went at a speed that made cheetahs wince! Did they listen to my calls for them to return to Parrow land? No they did not! Did they listen to my more urgent calls for their immediate return? No they did not! Did they in any way, shape or form acknowledge my arm flailing, running or panicked state? NO THEY DID NOT! Do you know what they did notice? A mutha effin' squirrel. Grilled Cheesus! Trudy is chasing this poor squirrel like her life depends on it. Cullen is chasing Trudy like she has a T Bone tied to her back and Bella is chasing them both because she feels a need to be a part of this ragtag group of misfits. What is Joey doing? Oh, Joey is backing his ass up to the deck step so he can drop a deuce. Oy! Finally, I clap them into submission and three of the four crazies are in the house. Not Trudy, she has decided to try to become the first pug lumberjack and chew a tree! Gah! Really? We all come in, I give the standard door opening and closing safety lecture to the four year old lady and the pugs are in TIME OUT! Otto, the almost nine week old wonder pug is glaring at them from the kitchen as if to say, "Ha! I'm the youngest and I'm not in trouble sucka's!" So....who wants to pug sit??

Have you hugged your pug today?

Do you know what a pug person is? Pug people are slightly neurotic in a love filled charming kind of way. We adore flat faces, snorting and bug eyes and live for the warm snuggles that only a curly tailed behind can provide!! My hand to the puggie Gods, once you own and love a pug, you will never regret it and it will become your breed of choice!!

This is my Cullen licking Tru's ear...or touching her brain, not entirely sure which! Seriously, can you look at this photo and not say, "Awww!" I can't. Pugs bring out the very best in people, the minute anyone spots your flat faced companion, they immediately smile and inquire about my miniature and slightly obese bestie. My oldest son has adopted Joey as his "wing man". Wherever Pacey is, Joey is on his heels, snorting happily to make sure his boy is well taken care of at all times!

These little fella's make the perfect companions, they love unconditionally and bring joy to the most cluster fuckish of days!! It is my DREAM to own and operate a non profit pug rescue some day! My kidlets are totally on board with this idea, my husband is not! LOL! He loves our dogs, even when they chew up his belongings, make an oopsie on the floor or scream (not bark) but if it were his choice, we would be roaming amongst Great Dane's and any k9 that can produce feces larger than small animals. Me? Not so much! On the subject of screaming....not ALL pugs do not this. Actually, Cullen is our only SCREAMER. It isn't that he can't bark, he is totally capable but when you don't immediately bend to his will, he will break out the big guns. It isn't manly, its a high pitched cry for help. Can you believe that he can scream, run and snort all in the same breath. Multi talented really. Trudy Loo, AKA Tru is our disaster. She is the daughter of our Cullen and Bella! She is a typical teen in all ways. She chews up everything, EVERYTHING! Her favorite thing to do is to sneak into her best friend Sophie's room, commandeer her squinkies and eat them. The problem with eating microscopic pieces of rubber is that they are so small in size that chewing is not necessary so if she so desires, she can just swallow and...um....dump them later. If I have said it once, I've said it a million times, "MOMMIE DOES NOT DIG SQUINKIES OUT OF PUG SHADOOBI!" This is the very lady like Tru in a stunt I like to call, "Look Ma, NO HANDS!"

Bella and Cullen had a second litter of mini flat faces and Dexter and Otto completely stole our hearts! Dexter was my main man, waddling his way into my heart and a half step behind me at all times. He found his forever home with an amazing lady that treasures his every waking move!! She is now a "pug person"! The fabulous Dexter!

And this is Otto, he couldn't snuggle and give more puppy kisses if he tried!! I really cannot rave enough about this breed, their spunky personalities or the happiness and kindness they bring out in people. And, they like to sleep!! Just ask Otto!! "Shhh! I'm trying to sleep!"

Love a Pug!!

Baby fever? I think not!

There are days that I pass a sleeping baby in a stroller in Target and it takes every ounce of self control not to utilize my most super sleuth skills and silently steal that baby and snuggle him / her endlessly. I love babies, even at their crankiest. I love their chubby little legs, their drool covered chins and their toothless grins. Just seeing a baby sends my blackened heart into Mother Teresa mode. I get weepy and sentimental, my babies are becoming more and more like miniature adults as each day passes. Today was not one of those days. After the day I had with the lunatic trio, it is safe to say my new passion in life is creating birth control posters to plaster the universe with. The morning was actually off to a pretty smooth start and after dropping off the boys at school, the early afternoon followed the same pattern. Upon picking Thing One and Thing Two up at school, the ruckus began. It was subtle at first, so subtle that it was almost undetected by the naked eye. My eye is much too wise for that tomfoolery but a full blown crisis was averted. It was averted until we got home, consumed dinner at a speed that would make most gazelles green with envy and got started on 3rd grade homework! Spelling to be exact. I must credit Sophie and Pacey, my resident mini thugs. Sophie watched Annie and played silently and Pacey perfected the art of Yu-gi-oh card worship without incident. Ashton apparently had some inner spelling rage he needed to work out verbally and I was the lucky Mommie in charge! Cheese and Rice! Ashton is incredibly smart. I'm not just saying that because I am his mom and I only produce perfect and mini geniuses. I'm saying this because it is true. He is eight years old, a year ahead in school, in advanced classes and still flying through in a nonsensical way. I have no doubt in my mind that he could outscore me on any subject on any given day. No joke. I'm more than willing to account for my lack of knowledge in certain subjects because I am confident that I make up for that deficit with my smart ass charm and undeniable cuteness. That is my hope at least. Neither my cuteness or wise ass abilities helped me this evening though. Ashton was wound for sound! Not only was he in no mood to accomplish his spelling endeavors but he was hell bent on Mommie inevitably losing her shit and flailing objects around the room willy nilly. Of course Miss Sophie Anabelle used all the paper making letters to all of her friends and shoving them in the mailbox so there was no available paper on which he could do his homework. He is well aware of his sisters lust for writing and paper wasting and he is also aware that I purchased a ton of extra supplies for him to keep and bring home as needed and he chose not to. Pacey had ONE single sheet of paper he offered his brother in a rare act of good faith. Ashton, having inherited some of his mothers wise ass abilities, purposely wrote the wrong words and then over erased in a failed act of defiance and erased a dayum hole in the dayum piece of paper. Duuuuuuude. When I tell ya'll that I saw red, I flippin' saw red. RED. R E D! I envisioned Tyson chewing off Holyfield's ear. Not that I'm an ear biter, I'm not a biter at all but I can only imagine that Tyson felt at least slightly less enraged afterward. At this time I got my game plan in action. I figured my friends love me enough to do all that they could to contact Jesse Jackson, Al Sharpton and Don King. Typically, Nancy Grace is my go to gal but with her Dancing shenanigans and twins, she might be slightly preoccupied. Needless to say, I feel these three gentleman can raise enough cash flow to bust me outta the clink IF and WHEN I finally react to the constant jackassery that I endure daily. I won't bore ya with the gory details but paper was purchased after a panic filled waiting period on his behalf thinking he was going to have to take a zero for this homework assignment and he did complete it effortlessly in less than fifteen minutes when presented the chance to do so with new paper. The point of this post is that I want a trophy. I want a trophy, a big ass mountain dew and taco bell. I want my trophy pink and bedazzled and fabulous and I want it engraved in fancy girly writing to say, "I came ----><---- THIS CLOSE to being on Dateline and I resisted the urge!" Make it happen.

Thank GAWD today is OVAH!

Grilled Cheesus, today was one helluva day!! As I am sure you are aware, I am not a morning person, at all. I loathe mornings, there will never be an occasion in which I am giddy at the prospect of getting up before the sun and God. Nope. Not one. Ever. Needless to say, my children have inherited my severe distaste for waking before we are damn good and ready. Clearly, the early hours are not the time to even attempt my patience or my mothering skills. My children are overachievers. They see Mommie is exhausted, not quite awake and a news story waiting to happen. Seeing this challenge, they feel obligated to push me to my limits, to see if I can truly resist the urge to pull my seriously cute Lancer over and pummel each of them individually. Today was no exception. These angelic, smart, sweet tiny humans make their mission to not only poke, prod and invade each others space but to do so at a volume that would make God, Santa, The Easter Bunny and Oprah shit their pants at first sound. Imagine that shenanigans at 7am, in an enclosed car with my already sunny disposition. Oh HAIL nah! When I tell ya'll I went bananas, I mean, I WENT BANANAS! I took away bey blades and Annie dvd's. I renounced all holidays, religious and ceremonial. I might have even shortened their ages some. Hell, I don't know. I kinda felt like that kid on A Christmas Story when he says the big F instead of FUDGE. It all happened so fast. I want ya'll to appreciate the sheer magnitude of restraint that it took not to become a statistic. Did they stop?? Oh double eff nah. They did not. The xy chromosomes were silent, mostly out of fear of losing Yu-gi-oh cards and beyblades. Sophie? Not so much. This four year old beauty and tiny tyrant was not detoured by my threats whatsoever. In fact, I think it encouraged her. She SCREAMED the entire way home. THE ENTIRE WAY HOME! I don't think you get it, the entire mother effin way home! I prayed for some plague of deafness to strike me instantly. It did not. As we pulled into our garage, she fell asleep. Do you know what happens then?? That is when *I* get to wake the screamer up. LOVELY! Luckily, the promise of breakfast and Wizard Of Oz was enough to get her QUIETLY in the door and happily going on about her four year old business! All that being said, I want you to truly realize give me mad credit for not being an alcoholic or the subject of Nancy Grace's BREAKING NEWS!