I ran out to the store a couple of days ago and when I got back my husband had taught the kids to ask, "Mommy, can we stay up and watch the Phillies please?"
I said no.
Three year olds who the day before asked me if the bats they use in baseball say "squeak, squeak" and live in caves, do not need to stay up until midnight for a game they really wouldn't follow.

I grew up here, but was not really raised in a sporting family. I was ten when the Phils won the series in 1980, I remember classmates who were so into it they wore their T shirts every day. I knew names, heard about it in school... but I was more book worm than baseball fan back then.

My hubbie is, was and always has been a fan. Not a watch every game guy - but certainly a watch the series guy. So we pulled the couch up closer to the TV, turned off all of the lights except the orange ones I strung over the mantle for the season, and I watched with him. I watched as the rain got heavier and heavier and the red painted man in back of home plate got funnier and funnier to check in on. I asked him who everyone was, and started to get a feel for what the team was up to and what they could do.

I could see, novice that I am, that the team has chops. I did watch Ichiro and the Mariners when I lived in Seattle, after they built the new stadium. I do understand how a game can become more than just a game when so many people get involved and the energy builds around an event. And the Phillies were solid. I could tell they deserved to win, and so I was actually disappointed when the game was called. I found myself again disappointed when it was delayed through the next day.

Last night, both suffering from bad colds, we again put the kids to bed without much fuss, and then watched the red faced man take his spot behind home plate. Pitch lay at our feet, wagged her tail from time to time. Only got up for the fireworks that went off in our neighborhood around 10:15. I was on the edge of my seat by the end. It was enough to make any mother proud... enough to make the place really feel like home.

We brought our rescue dog to our vet and got some terrible news. She has heartworm, among many other treatable parasites. That explains her subdued energy levels.

So this morning she went in for the treatment - an injection today and another tomorrow to kill the worms in her heart, followed by a month of restricted activity while her body breaks down the dead worms and clears them from her heart chambers. Once this is over, she will be put on a preventative and hopefully be in good shape. We were upset that the rescue didn't tell us how ill she was, but they only go as far as the SPCA guidelines and apparently did not do anything wrong in not having her tested. I have learned that dogs coming up from the South often have heartworms though, as they are transmitted by mosquitoes and people don't tend to use preventative as often. I also learned that in PA, dogs are still considered an agricultural 'product' and so the regulation and enforcement of laws protecting them seem fairly pretty few. But the dogs were rescued from a high kill shelter and now have chances at good lives - so I suppose it is just a buyer beware issue when adopting a rescue. Fingers crossed she'll be OK.

Her name was listed as CoCo on the petfinder ad, but we saw it listed as Pitch on the NC papers, so we went with that (since she is black, not brown!). I like it - pitch black, pitch pipe, pitch a baseball - it is timely and poetic.

In keeping with the approach of Halloween, we had our annual pumpkin carving party yesterday. It is a great kid friendly get together with hay bales, food and fun. So on Thursday I stopped by the spooktacularly scary Walmart in Exton for a few party items. As I was leaving to let the dog out, I felt the bump, bump, of my bumper against another car. CRAP!!!
I get out, still shaking (I am a vehicular trauma wimp), and see, to my horror, a NUN getting out of her compact car, with a CANE.

The damage was minimal, she said she thought she ran over a rock. I figure we were both doing about 5mph.

So I have had several pre-Halloween scares already.
Way to get into the spirit huh?

So... when we met, I had a yellow lab who was about 14 years old, and my husband had a springer spaniel.

Both avowed dog people, we bonded over our respective admiration and adoration of our pups.

As it turned out, his springer had a bit of a rage issue that made her unfit for infant company (she subsequently went to live with a friend on a large child free farm) and my lab had only another year or so to live before arthritis and minor strokes brought us to a meeting at the local vet hospital.

Dog free for the first time, we have concentrated on our kids, and haggled about when/if another canine would join the family. As primary caretaker, up until now, I have felt very overburdened, and not willing to take on another creature who needs attention. But after preschool, and successful potty training, it was either now or next spring. I am the one who found the post on petfinder.com and to be honest with myself, if I had no interest in getting another dog, what was I doing weekly trolling petfinder? I was so crushed after losing my own dog, I couldn't imagine having another, and I was also as shocked when I realized how much work babies are - I mean - there just is no explaining it beforehand is there? So I have done a lot of foot dragging, stalling and complaining... and yet, Saturday we went out to meet a dog - a 2 year old - my own pick, to avoid house training....

The morning before we went to meet her, I lay in bed imagining how every aspect of what was going on would change with a dog... I envisioned the kids getting their toys chewed, fighting for space on our bed, the cat fleeing in horror...
well.. we met this dog, a rescue up from NC, and she is so CHILL.... I mean, I had a lab, and she was a doozy of a lab - chewed everything, jumped up - the whole 9 - but this dog - so far she is housetrained, crate trained, super calm, great with the kids, doesn't go for their toys and listens to what I tell her, eager to please and has these sad eyes that you just want to get a spark back into. I am a worrier by nature - but I think I love her. It's a new challenge, convincing a new creature taht this place can be her home, that we can be her pack - different from just having a puppy who believes from the start - but it's a good challenge, it forces me to back my own play, to acknowledge the home I have made here and to see it in a new and a very welcoming light.

Prior to becoming parents, my husband and I both liked to camp, hike, and generally escape to the great outdoors. With twins, however, just escaping out the front door became a great adventure. When a friend of his invited us all to join them camping in mid October, we both shrugged and thought ‘well, why not?’ I know, I had about one hundred reasons why not… but it sounded like fun to get away. I mean, worst case scenario we end up driving home in the middle of the night, right? And that may have made for a funny story, but I am happy to say that didn’t happen!

At three, I think it would have ended in a very long, late night drive… but three and a half, apparently, is just old enough to comprehend that just because something is mildly uncomfortable or out of the ordinary, it can still be fun if you think of it as an adventure. And what kid doesn’t want to have unfettered time with a campfire and a forest full of sticks?

We went up to Ricketts Glen State Park, past Wilkes-Barr. There were bathroom facilities, showers, a nearby store, and even a fireworks vendor just across the road from our campground. There was a time when that would have offended every sensibility I had, but with kids, hey, I say, "Yay sparklers!"

The drive up last weekend with the trees turning was worth it alone – I had forgotten how absolutely gorgeous that is, and it is at this moment in full autumnal glory.

Now, the filled-to-capacity campground was certainly a far cry from hiking into Pacific NW wilderness, but when you have a few preschoolers in tow, suddenly the creature comforts outweigh the population density. Kind of like how having grandparents nearby can outweigh having a cool hipster lifestyle in the big city.

Anyway, I did bring along a potty seat and made a little bathroom near our tent for the three-year-olds. My daughter isn’t too keen on pooping while leaning back as I hold her arms, and she certainly wasn’t going to agree to use the spider filled outhouse. She smiled for what may be our greatest blackmail photo yet a she sat there in the morning sunlight, grinning up from the potty seat holding her Polly Pocket dolls.

The most difficult part of the trip was when the kids woke up at 6am, (after a 4am wake up that we talked them out of), when it was still dark out, and declared that they were done sleeping. We were surrounded by other campers, who I am sure had no intention of getting up before dawn. I read Winnie the Pooh by flashlight until the sun came up to join us.

We came home with that brilliant combination of exhaustion and invigoration. And we will definitely be going camping again next spring… especially if the economy keeps lagging!

So my plan for the delicious 5 (or so) hours a week I have freed up by pre-school was to take my laptop to the Steamed Cow Cafe in Downingtown.

The Chester County Writer's Meet Up meets there but I hadn't yet been in. Let me just plug it here as one of my new favorite places in Chester County. It has a completely urban up-and-coming neighborhood feel, and it is family owned. They have great coffee, lattes, espresso, fruit smoothies, chai, herbal teas, and a solid menu with more offerings than I expected, all combined with free WiFi, overstuffed couches and chairs, bistro tables, AND welcoming children's accountrements (not that I am using that but it gets points in my book!) including toys and a play area.

If you haven't been there, GO!

So far, a lot of my time there has been taken up with a networking meeting, some catch up on review work, and then prep for my writer's critique group... but today... oh today, I had my first real taste of a morning spent writing again. And this time I remembered my ipod... forgotten the last few occasions. This is a critical element for the completely self-indulgent experience.

As a parent, you cannot just lose yourself in something if your kids are around requiring supervision. You always have one ear extended, ready to intervene in a fight, assist to a request, or answer a random question. And it doesn't have an off button, unfortunately. You become trained to this. That makes the ipod a necessity for enjoying child free time... otherwise I'd have half an ear on every nearby conversation and cell phone call. And considering my kids pretend they are cats for about 70% of the day, that might even extend to outbursts by neighborhood cats or dogs!

Yahoo news article on Splenda - (needs volume)