It’s like being a first-time mom all over again. Yes, we’re dealing with a different species, but I’m exhibiting the same obsessive attention to behavior, bowel movements, eating patterns…I am decidedly too old for this. But Truffle is just so adorable, it’s hard to resist him.
It’s Truffle Again and I Have a Few More Things to Say
I’m so humbled. The response I received to my first blog post was a huge inspiration. Thanks to all of you for tuning in. My new human mom has agreed to make me a contributor to her blog, so you’ll continue to hear about my escapades from time to time – and here’s the latest.
Continue reading It’s Truffle Again and I Have a Few More Things to Say
Hi, My Name is Truffle and This is My Story
New scents! New sounds! It’s overwhelming. I guess I’m not in Kansas anymore (actually, I was never in Kansas. Does Toto still live there?) I was so excited this morning when my new human family came to pick me up in Pennsylvania. I didn’t know what to expect. Many of my brothers and sisters had already left for their new homes. I stood by the door, eagerly waiting and waiting and waiting. Which is not an easy thing for an eight-week old puppy to do.
Continue reading Hi, My Name is Truffle and This is My Story
The Dog Days Are (Almost) Here
In four short days, we return to central Pennsylvania to retrieve our puppy and bring him home. We finally settled on his name the other night, which will be revealed when he crosses the threshold of our house on his own four paws. It is a name that everyone liked and one that my husband, ironically enough, suggested. Ironic because he is not particularly keen on bringing a four-legged animal into the family. But with the baptism, he’s now bound to the dog in a way that Chloe, Sophie and I will never be.
Happy 8th Birthday, Sophie!
Our little monster is eight years old today. To celebrate her birthday, she’s bringing Munchkins to school and having a small slumber party. We plan to tire the girls out by taking them to dinner and a movie (“Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs 2”) before they wreak havoc in their pajamas.
Chloe the Motivator
Chloe knows that I want to make a go of writing. We’ve talked at length about the concept for the kids’ book that’s been percolating for several months in my ever-distracted brain. She also knows that I’ve been working on all manner of projects while procrastinating on the one that matters most to her (or at least the one that she finds most compelling).
Routine? What the Hell is That?
The good news is that the girls are settling into their new routines. Busy at school, busy with homework, busy with activities and busy with friends. The bad news is that, despite my best efforts, my intended routine evades me. I have lots of time blocked off in my calendar to write, but the kind of writing I plan to do during those hours remains stubbornly trapped in my brain. I’ll get it out eventually.
The Chosen One
Today was the big day. After months of anticipation, we ventured deep into the heart of Pennsylvania to choose our puppy. We didn’t think the choice would be easy. It wasn’t.
School’s in Session and My Girls Remind Me of Certain Shakespeare Characters
It’s back to reality for Chloe and Sophie. The lazy days of summer are over, there are no vacations planned any time soon and worst of all (for them, not me), they’re back in school.
For Chloe, 7th grade doesn’t represent much of a change. She’s lucky enough to have the same core subject teachers as she did last year. So far, she only has two big gripes (not bad for her). One, she’s in an elective class that she regrets choosing. Mind you, she’s only had the class one time so far, but Chloe is not one to take her time forming opinions. Two, she was placed into a gym class that she can’t stand. And why can’t she stand it, you ask? Because it’s “Team Sports” and Chloe and team sports are like oil and water. They just don’t mix. I am girding myself for a torrent of verbal diarrhea about her plight this afternoon.
Continue reading School’s in Session and My Girls Remind Me of Certain Shakespeare Characters
Apples Today and School Tomorrow
Chloe and Sophie return to school tomorrow as 7th and 3rd graders. I have friends and family – parents who are more or less my age, mind you – whose children are already in college or high school. And I both envy them and pity them. But when I think about my girls and the fact that one of them is going to be 13 in a few short months and the other is going to turn eight in a couple of weeks, I feel like I’m in a car without brakes.
The summer flew by. It was indeed a great summer, one that lived up to the impossibly high expectations I set for it last winter. The girls are a bit taller, a bit more tan, a wee bit more cultured and as intolerant of each other as they’ve always been. Some things truly never change.
We woke up this morning to a beautiful day that cried for us to enjoy the warm weather and clear blue sky. A last hurrah, so to speak, before Chloe and Sophie hop onto their respective buses tomorrow morning and we dive right back into the frenetic routine of school, homework and activities that we eagerly left behind in June.
We decided that apple picking would be the appropriate way to mark the end of the summer and the beginning of school. It had been a few years since our last apple picking adventure and this time we decided to try an orchard we’ve never visited before, Maskers Orchards in New York.
The place is huge, with more than a dozen varieties on offer (although only a few were ready this early in the season). The owners encourage picnics on site and plenty of people set up tables and blankets amidst the trees to eat elaborate lunches that were, of course, capped off by apples. Chloe immediately decided that this was the orchard to beat because visitors are free to gorge themselves on as many apples as they’d like while picking the fruit off the tree. As we strolled through the rows of green accented by red spheres, it felt like I had walked into the first pages of Shel Silverstein’s “The Giving Tree,” except multiplied by thousands.
I’ve been saying for years that red delicious apples are a misnomer because they have absolutely no taste. My brood finally had a chance to agree with me when they sampled one in an attempt to prove me wrong. Instead, we filled our bags with incredibly succulent macintosh and prime reds.
While neither Chloe nor Sophie would ever be caught dead giving apples to their teachers, we now have 25 pounds of the fruit for school lunches, tart-making and snacking. By the time we’re done eating all of them, we probably won’t want to see any more apples again until the girls prepare to begin 8th and 4th grade. Stop the clock, please!