And sometimes I call in reinforcements. (Milestone - 10 Months)

Her name is Kentucky.  I picked her up at the local Bashas.

Her purpose in life will be to kill.  Mice.  We have seen approximately 32 at the new property and it is no bueno.

We have been practicing rigorous pouncing and catching techniques with Kentucky.  She is almost ready to be released into the wild of our current remodel.

No one loves Kentucky more than Mikael.  She squeals and flaps her arms excitedly at just the sight of her.

Mikael wants to share the love.  Cuddle.  Grab.  Pet.  And show the cat who the boss is.

And then suddenly she can experience a change of heart.  And the cycle begins all over again.

We haven't figured if those are tears of regret, sorrow, remorse, or fear.  It is a complicated relationship between these two.  One we will be able to nourish and nurture in the coming years.

Kentucky will for sure be the meanest best cat around.

Welcome to the family.

Lactating Parents Club

Yes.  This is another post about breast-feeding.  I'm sorry but when it's your only special talent, you end up talking about it (and displaying it in public) too much.  I produce whole milk.  I produce fat and happy babies - all without so much as a thought.  What can I say?  It just comes naturally.  And it's special.

This month, the lactating club around my house had a new member join up.  Jace thought driving to Casa Grande to pick up 16 day old calves would be a good idea.  I tried telling him that he would not be a good substitute for the mama cows udders.  I tried telling him how much work it would be - he would be way in over his head!  He knows nothing about proper head cradling positions, proper latching techniques, colic, ensuring adequate hydration, and analyzing the newborn poop.

But all my warnings fell on deaf, naive ears.  He could not think of anything else.  Talk of anything else.  He hauled those poor orphan calves up the mountain and started his 2X a day feedings.  Soon those cows took over his mornings, his evenings, his thoughts and prayers, and my kitchen.  There was milk substitute to be mixed, mathematical formulas converting pints to gallons and then back to quarts to be figured, bottles and nipples to be washed and sanitized.

It wasn't until they starting dropping like flies that he admitted to his fellow club member that maybe 16 calves at once was just a few too many.  After all those feedings and stall cleanings.  After all that Pepto bismol and all the antibiotic shots, those cows were leaving this life faster than Jace could count.  Jace was saddened and confused.   After 2 weeks, we he went from 16 calves to 4 calves.  That's right.  4.  And I think it's worth mentioning that all 4 of the surviving, prancing calves are little girl calves.  I want to say that I think Jace learned his lesson but he I can hear him now talking in the other room about ordering just Holstein calves next time maybe they are a heartier breed.

I am going to tell him again tonight that the lesson to be learned here is this:  Unless you are born with the equipment attached - Leave the nursing of newborns to the mothers.  Go on home and eat dinner with your other 4 (real) children.

Love you Jace.  Maybe we could think of another club we could join together?  Book club?  Our kids our the cutest club? Chess?  Let me know.  I'll let you be club president.

Meet Millie

Millie is our new puppy. I've said it before I'm not much of a dog person. I'm really not.

But Mille is cute. Kind of. I will try hard to remember to feed and love her. I will try hard to not to give her away when she poops out the food I tried hard to remember to feed her.

But! this is the last time I leave Jace alone with a laptop when visiting Gilbert. Jace has taught himself how to direct the laptop to www.Craigslist.com. And when he calls me at Old Navy and says to stop by Wal-Mart on the way back, he has a surprise and needs me to pick something up, I will stall, cry, tear up my debit card and then probably buy the blasted dog food. Jace wins. Every time.

So to recap. Caring for 4 hungry children (we should stop here and point out- one of those hungry children is 2 months old), 1 husband with new found computer skills, and 1 barking 6 week old puppy does not make Lindsay brave (and definitely not smart). It only means that sometimes Lindsay does not get a choice. Sometimes she takes one for the team. Her adorable, babbling, bacon winning, dog loving, single pink glove wearing team.

By the way...let's not try to put a number on Millie. I have decided I'm no longer taking inventory on my life. When you ask me at the grocery store how many times I've moved, how many houses I've lived in, or how many dogs/pets I've owned, or how many times have I lived in Snowflake....I will simply shrug my shoulders and act very confused. Of course, this new life strategy is for my sanity/reputation only.

Just a glimpse. Into my heart.

Jace keeps bringing dogs home. We have housed 9 dogs since our arrival in Chandler.

That's right. I said Nine. The doors keeps revolving. I'm sure their is a name for people like us who test drive pets.

I sold a puppy yesterday to Wes. So, we are now down to 4 Jack Russells.

5 dogs, a couple rainy/muddy days, and snot noses. Turns out- it is not a great combination for my sanity. I've lost it. I was crying this morning in the car, while taking my kids to school and Gabriella was singing to Troy....

"I've got to go my own my way.....I've got to move on and be who I am." - She sang. And I cried.

I had never owned a dog until Jace came along. Mauriah was allergic. Mike threw rocks at the neighbor's barking pets. Addie was terrified. It never could have worked.

I am a lover of children and husbands. I want to take care of them. I want to feed, water, pet, potty train, and walk them. Everyday. There is not a lot of room left in my small heart.

Today I met Wendy. She was parked up at the top of my street. She was looking concerned. She was on her cell phone. I sped by fast. Wendy followed me home.

"Is that your dog?"

Pause. Crap.

"Yep."

"And you have another, named Max?"

Another pause. Double crap.

"Yep."

"They were running down the middle of Copper Rd. I got Max to jump into my car but I could not get the other one to come with me. I was so worried. If my dogs were running in the middle of the road, I would be so scared."

Nice.

"I'm so sorry."

"Do you think I could keep Max?"

Don't answer to quickly. She'll think you have a small, cold heart.

"yyyyess."

Don't think bad thoughts about me. Max is going to love his new home. And I know those puppies are adorable. And I know how much Ezra loves his "tinies." I really want to be a dog lover. But I must. I must. Get rid of a couple more dogs. If you love dogs and are concerned about their safety while running down majors roads - call me. We can arrange for the happy trade of the dogs for my sanity back.