I adhere to the "farm dog" method of taking care of your pets. It goes something like this:

- Dog bathes itself in the pond.
- Dog is fed on a semi-regular schedule and is supplemented with rabbits, mice and other various creatures.
- Dog has a small pan of water, but again, supplements with pond and creek water.
- Dog has a dog house for shelter, but prefers the hay loft of the barn.
- Dog roams hundreds of acres and returns home occasionally to chase the cows and nap in the flower bed.

Now that I live in town, the farm dog policies don't exactly apply. Seems it is appropriate to have a collar on your dog, keep its shots and tags up to date and to fence it in at all times.

I know so, because I just retrieved one of our precious dogs from the impound this afternoon.

Yesterday evening, as I was putting water in the kid's pool, I decided to let the dogs out. Brent was out of town - hiking and camping in the cool Colorado mountains - of course. (It was for work; so don't feel too sorry for me.) His black lab and I have had plenty of "near misses." I chased her down while six months pregnant with Noah as she began to thrash a neighbor's chihuahua to death on the street. I lost her another time Brent was away, but she came home hungry and thristy a few hours later. I thought this time would be no different.

The dogs had only been loose for a few minutes before I noticed she was missing. I heard lots of barking a couple houses down, and started after her. I spotted her, yelled for her (in my best "farm girl hollaring for the dog" voice), and watched her run the other way.

Thankfully, my mom was in town, so we put the kids in strollers and started to go after her. I "hollared" a few more times, but she was hot on the trail of a rabbit. So, we turned home. I filled her food dish and water pan and assumed she would be home in a couple hours.

Wrong.

By 9:00 am this morning, still no dog. I made the reluctant call to the police department. They returned my call shortly to inform me an officer had picked up the dog last night and that I could retrieve her from the impound after paying a $65 fee, getting her rabies shot up to date and renewing her tags.

$80.20 later, the dog is at home.

And just so you know, if I had never made that call, she would be been euthanized on the city's bill in seven days.

Something tells me I should have kept my mouth shut.

Or, we really need to move to the farm.

Promises, schomises. So it's been a month and a half since I posted something. But who am I kidding? These days, I'm just happy to get dressed and have time to brush my teeth.

Nonetheless, yesterday was June 12, and my little boy turned two. And if you couldn't tell from the video above, he hasn't stopped playing basketball for the past 24 hours. In fact, he drug his new basketball in from outside and put it in his bed. Had to sleep with it. I know his Grandpa is grinning from ear to ear right now. Or perhaps, shedding a tear. Grandkids have caused him to "go soft."

(Oh, and sorry about the video being sideways. Will someone please tell me how to fix that!!)

As for the girls, they are already displaying their fair share of drama. Lately, Noah's mantra has been, "Whatever it takes to get a spanking, I'm willing to go that far." Sprint for the neighbors yard. Throw something at my brother. Tell my mommy "NO" for the thirty-fifth time. She is three to a tee.

Nell is now four months old. She can scoot to a sideways position in her crib, and is getting very close to rolling over. You can view her three month mug here.

The other good news from our household is that the daycare gig is finally over with. It had reached a point where I felt like it was taking away from time with my own children. I am left with a little angst over the stress on the family budget; but I am relieved to now be free to focus on my babies. Because if time continues to move at the pace is has in the past six weeks, it will be no time before I ship Nell off to kindergarten.

I'll leave you with this picture. This was Nell's baptism...just another peaceful, prayerful day in our blissful life.

Learning lessons

Did you know that other moms have bad days, too? I would like to thank my neighbor for reminding me of this important lesson. As we watched our kids play in the backyard, she told me about all the ways her bad day went to worse with every turn. I tried to fill myself with empathy for all her misfortune, but instead I was laughing inside and feeling quite thankful for my neighbor and friend.

Later that evening, after the kids were in bed, I knocked on her front door carrying two bowls of ice cream. One bowl for her to wash away her bad day; one bowl for me to celebrate friendship.

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Yesterday, I tried reasoning with my three-year-old.

"If you made the mess, you must clean it up."

"If you don't eat your breakfast, you can't have a snack."

"If you don't take your nap, you won't be able to watch TV."

Simple reason and simple consequence, right? Not exactly.

The light bulb went on for me last night as she was taking her bath. She offered me some "tea" she had just made with the bath water. I politely said, "No thank, you." And she said, "I'll drink it."

She still drinks bath water. How can I possibly reason with that?

Lately, I haven't agreed with Oprah on much of anything. Her glamorous, TV, urban Chicago lifestyle seems waaay out of touch with my middle-of-Kansas-stay-at-home-mom lifestyle. I even dropped my "O" magazine subscription. I just couldn't connect anymore.

But sometime last week, as I was feeding the baby and flipping through the channels, she caught my attention. She had devoted a show to mothers and had this to say,

"We hear from mothers all the time who say they feel alone. They feel overwhelmed; they feel sometimes inadequate. And you say you're afraid to admit the truth for fear of being judged."

I watched the rest of the show in (almost) total agreement.

I feel totally overwhelmed and quite inadequate - and I don't want to admit that. That's why I have been avoiding the Potted Goose. I don't want to face this honesty - face the feelings I have that I am not giving my best to my children and that my life seems to spin out of control any number of days of the week.

But watching the show made me realize that I am doing myself - and all moms out there who used to visit the Potted Goose - a serious injustice. I created this website as a means to connect with other moms, and as a means of self-therapy. You know that "I can laugh about it now" feeling that comes hours after your one year old threw a tantrum on the kitchen floor because you wouldn't let him have Easter candy at 8:05 in the morning.

So, I am really going to try to keep the Potted Goose up to date. Really. I mean it this time.

I guess Oprah still does have that inspirational thing going for her.
















(The fam on Easter morning. We only made it to church on time thanks to the extra help from my mom and my two sisters.)

Love multiplies

Someone once said - err, I read somewhere - err, my mother told me - well, whatever the source, I have experienced once again how a mother's love multiplies, it does not divide.

Though slightly frazzled, short of memory and sleep, I am so happy to welcome Nell Ann Goss to the world. Nell was born Thursday, February 12. She was a beautiful baby girl, weighing 7 lbs, 12 oz., and was 19 1/2 inches long.

We are 2 1/2 weeks into this new phase of life, and we're all a-d-j-u-s-t-i-n-g. Slowly, but surely. Each day, I feel better and able to do more, which in turn makes everyone else have a better day, too. Mostly, I am beginning to wonder what the heck I did all day during maternity leave with my first baby. Or, I now more fully understand why my first child is the way she is.

Nonetheless, Nell is a precious (and patient) addition to our household. She loves to be cuddled and tolerates well the way her brother and sister like to hold her. And I am so happy to be watching another child grow up in our home!

Our Christmas morning

It's Christmas morning at our home. Santa made an early drop off since we're leaving later today to spend Christmas with Brent's family. The kids are still sleeping. And since I was lying awake, part with excitement for the morning and mostly with aches and pains, I decided to get up and make breakfast.

I am just hoping the kids - Noah especially - will be excited about this visit from Santa. We've been doing Christmas in phases this year so we can see all of our family. And I'm afraid Noah is slightly confused. Or, she is thinking that Santa is just alright, since he keeps coming and coming.

The only gift she has asked for over and over again is a pink house - namely a particular pink doll house. This is what Grandma and Grandpa...also under the disguise of Santa...had got for her. And that present was delivered over the weekend.

So while sitting on Santa's lap Monday evening (our neighbor plays a great Santa and makes house calls to kids around town every year), he asks her, "What do you want for Christmas, Noah?"

She matter-of-factly replies, "A pink house, but I already got it. You can get my brother one."

Santa, Mommy and Daddy are deflated.

Mommy and Daddy have really been looking forward to giving our budding performer a preschool karaoke toy (Fisher Price Star Station). And now we're just hoping she will feel the same way about it.

I'll let you know how things go.

Until then, cherish and treasure this time with your children, your families and your spouses.

Down and dirty

I see dust everywhere. I don't know if it's because I have just six weeks left to go in this pregnancy, or that my mother and my very neat and organized sister-in-law are coming to visit this weekend, but whatever the reason, I feel like I am living in a dust pile.

I spent 30 minutes yesterday morning wiping down every surface in the refrigerator. But that wasn't enough. I soaked the "yucky looking grill thingy" at the base of the fridge in a vinegar bath in the tub.

Handprints and smears on the walls started to jump out at me. Nearly every wall surface within the reach of a three-year-old has been scrubbed with soapy water.

Yesterday, I cleaned the bathroom in all those corners to which I usually turn a blind eye. You know what I'm talking about - that hard to reach place all the way behind the toilet, the dust bunnies behind a decorative basket of towels. And just when I thought I was finished, I noticed the dust between the window and the window screen. That's where I'll be starting my day.

And I will also be dusting the wood blinds, disenfecting door knobs, and attacking the yuckiest place of all - the buffet that has accumlated under my kitchen table.

Happy holiday preparations, ya'all!