My Family

Tammy, the unequalled brains in the family, suggested before I left that I should pack certain items that I scoffed at (and then secretly packed), such as extra zip-lock baggies, “Because,” she said, “you never know what you might need them for.”

I had just rolled my eyes and told her I thought she was dumb. Or something along those lines.

Well, as I already said, I secretly packed a couple extras. And I’m glad I did. Now I have someplace to put all my odds-and-ends before going to sleep. My wallet, my change, my keys, my Chapstick, etc. all go into a zip-lock baggy so they don’t get lost while the truck bounces down the road while I’m unconscious.

Thank you, lover. You’re the best.

Cordelia, who had been assigned the task of wearing her eye-patch 2 hours a day over her good eye to help strengthen her weak eye, has had the burden lifted a bit. She now only has to wear it 2 hours a day 3 times per week. She’s also been reevaluated with regards to her speech aptitude, and though it had looked like she would be going to pre-school 3 days per week (or something), they’ve determined that she only needs one 45 minute class per week. Is that good or bad?

Also, since daddy’s been gone, she’s decided to go ahead and let herself be potty-trained. Finally. She has few accidents, sometimes going an entire day without any.

And from what I hear, Garrett (Cordelia’s cousin, about 18 months younger than her), has started making “human” sounds. Noises that could possibly be actual attempts at forming words. Congrats, Garrett! Keep up the good work!

The Evoloution of Tard Into Man

This may come as a shock to most of you, but I have not always been the congenial, adorable, wonderful guy you all know and love. I used to be a shy, awkward, goofy (looks and behavior) kid who had a hard time making friends, and a harder time keeping them. When I did make and keep friends, it was more of a testament to them and their congenial wonderfulness than to anything I may have said or done.

That said, I was never entirely convinced I was ever going to meet a girl who would be able to stand being around me long enough or consistently enough that she’d ever be able to love me enough to marry me. On my mission I learned a lot about interpersonal relationships and learned to modify my behavior around human beings so that I became less awkward and more “normal”(ish), which is one of the many blessings I received as a missionary.

I started dating not long after I got home from my mission, and even had long-ish-term relationships that I thought would eventually lead somewhere eternal. I was 21 when I had my first kiss. That relationship didn’t last (5 months). I was 23 when I had my second. Also didn’t last (1 week, give or take). I was 27 when I had my third kiss. That relationship lasted off-and-on for the better part of 18 months, and was a very positive time in my life for growing and understanding how boys and girls interact emotionally and spiritually. After that break-up, I was much more confident and capable when it came to dating, and though I did get into one more extended-but-failed relationship, I was finally ready to meet that special someone who wouldn’t have to put up with a complete tard in order for us to work out.

Let me make a clarification: 1^st kiss vs. 2^nd kiss = I did kiss each of these girls more than once. The so-called “second kiss” is a way of stating it was the second girl I’d kissed… not that it makes much difference when there were 2+ years between them.

When I was almost 30 years old, I met Tammy. I was 30 before we went on our first date. I immediately felt a connection with her that was different from anything else I had ever experienced. Within 3 or 4 dates, I had a sneaking suspicion that I was going to marry her. That thought frightened me for a number of reasons:

• I had often felt that way about girls I'd dated before
• I barely knewy her or anything about her
• I wasn't in love with her, or even sure how deep my crush on her was
• I didn't know how she felt about me
• We hadn't even kissed yet
• I still had a huge crush on the last girl I'd been seeing

And yet, something about this girl had convinced me that I was going to marry her.

I found out later that she had felt the same thing about me, and she had been just as frightened for many of the same reasons (though I really don’t think she had a crush on the last girl I’d been seeing).

I started this blog because I was going to relate a completely different story, but that story needed some background. Thus the blog evolved into a story about meeting Tammy and, as is the apparent custom at this time of year, I find myself expressing gratitude for her and for the Lord who guided me along my path, through my awkward years and led me to meet people who gave me opportunities for growth and self-discovery so that I would be ready to meet Tammy (who was just about to graduate college when I met her) just as she became available. If I had been ready any sooner, she would have been too young or away at school, and we would possibly have never met.

My wife is way too good for me, and yet she’s just exactly right for me. I love her and am grateful for her extremely undeserved patience with me. She keeps me grounded and, frustrating as that is for me sometimes, this keeps me happy over all.

One final observation: I am on good or better terms with every girl I ever dated. This helps support my belief that meeting them, even dating them, was the will of God. And strengthens my gratitude to him and to them.

I’ll most likely write the post I originally intended within the next day or so, but if not: Happy Thanksgiving!

Dog Psychology

This is Argos, our lovable, friendly, easily excitable, puff-ball. He's two years old now, and has been a member of our family for about 18 months. This picture was taken the day we brought him home.

From the time we got married Tammy had hinted at wanting a dog. She'd see dogs running around a neighborhood and point out that the poor things didn't have any home and we should pick them up and give them a new home at our house. Sometimes she was less subtle and would simply say something along the lines of, "We should get a dog."

I did not want a dog. Or any pet. Maybe a fish. You see, I grew up with pets. Cats, dogs, rabbits, fish, a turtle, a chicken, and my parents had horses. So I've had them, been around them, seen them get sick, seen them grow old, retrieved their bodies from the road. I've dealt with pets alive and dead, and I just didn't want to do it anymore. Dead pets are nobody's best friend, and they leave holes in my heart that never want to mend.

But as Cordy became more and more mobile, I came across an old photo of my niece when she was about Cordelia's age, and she was out playing with my brother's dog and her young litter of pups. The smile on her face was a mile wide and I realized that my selfish refusal to have pets would prevent my own child/children from experiencing the unfeigned love and joy that my pets had brought me my entire life. I couldn't live with the idea that I'd be preventing my own little girl from having her own pet-experiences, when animals had always been an extremely important part of my childhood... and adulthood, if I'm ging honest.

So Argos was Tammy's Christmas/Birthday present from me the year Cordelia turned 1 (Cordy's birthday is Dec 23, Tammy's is January 19, so the three kind of lump together when discussing past events). However, since Tammy is violently allergic to life animals, primarily those that tend to live with people, choosing a dog required a great deal of planning on my part. And I had to do it in secret, too.

So for several months prior to Christmas, I spent countless hours on www.dogbreedinfo.com and other websites researching dogs. In addition to Tammy's allergies, I wanted a dog who could be kept indoors (I grew up with outdoor dogs, and it always broke my heart to leave them outside without real company), and we needed a dog we could be comfortable having around small children.

Once the cat was out of the bag... or more precisely: the dog secret was revealed, Tammy and I started looking, together, at the list of most viable options for hypo-allergenic dogs that I had made. Since this was not just any old gift, but an actual living, breathing, potentially thinking creature who would be with us for many many years to come, we did not want to rush into it, and since it was going to be Tammy's dog, she certainly needed to have a say-so in just exactly what dog we got.

As we narrowed down the search, we also picked up season one of The Dog Whisperer on DVD and watched every single episode. We learned a lot about dogs, why they behave the way they do, and a bunch of techniques and tricks to help keep your dog happy. And it is unbelievably easy to do, with a little patience, and a lot of self-control.

Here are some basics:

1. Dogs are not people, and no matter what you may interpret, dogs do not think that they are people. At most, dogs think that their 'masters' are dogs.
2. When a dog is frightened or nervous, soothing sounds and cuddles do not reassure them and make them feel better. They are not people (see number 1). Soothing and cuddling them is interpretted as a reward for their behavior. It actually encourages them to be frightend or nervous! Yikes!
3. Dogs are instinctive walkers. They need to walk, to roam. A majority of behavioral problems in dogs can be averted simply by taking the dog for a brisk daily walk for 30-60 minutes (depending on the breed). And it isn't about exercise. A dog can get lots and lots of exercise playing fetch, frisbee, or just running around the back yard, but exercise doesn't physiologically trigger whatever it is the dog gets psychologically from a good walk.
4. Dogs are pack animals. They see their family as their pack. And as such they need a very clear understanding of the pack hierarchy. If there are other dogs in the house, they'll figure out which dogs fall where in the hierarchy all on their own, naturally. But because people are primates, our hierarchies form differently than those of canines, and we have to consciously make an effort to establish a pack order for the dog's benefit. It isn't hard to do, but it does have to be consistent. It is simply a matter of learning a little about pack behavior and then incorporating it:

• Whoever is physically in the lead during a walk, is the alpha dog. Do not let your dog walk you. Keep him/her beside or behind you. Use a leash that actually allows you to do that.
• The higher up in the hierarchy you are, the sooner you get to eat, in relation to the rest of the pack. Dogs should not eat before or while the rest of the family is eating.
• If a dog shows dominance towards a child, that dog should immediately be disciplined by getting him/her in a submissive position (aka, lying on its back), and the child should be placed standing above the dog, even straddling it, for a few seconds to allow the dog to imprint that the child is dominant.

Some of this stuff sounds heartless, or mean, or even stupid to us as humans; but it's because we are humans. We have empathy and compassion and all kinds of emotions that either dogs don't have, or experience differently than we do.

Now, about Argos and his psychology. Today's main event.

We finally settled on an Australian Labradoodle. There are two Labradoodle breeds, one of them is just any cross between a Labrador Retriever and a Poodle. And then there are Australian Labradoodles, which are considered a pure breed. They are the result of professional dog breeders working to breed together specific traits of two separate breeds in order to create a new breed altogether. Whereas a "Labradoodle" is a mixed breed, an Australian Labradoodle is pure.

The breeders were looking to create a new breed of dog that could be used as a service animal for people with dog allergies.

Poodles are hypo-allergenic dogs, Labs are not. Both are very intelligent dogs. Both are traditionally "water dogs," which is to say their original breeding was as bird-dogs - the dogs that go and retrieve the duck after the hunter shoots it from the sky.

If I understand correctly, Poodles are just a little too independent for the service animal tasks (as a breed on the whole, though I'm sure some animals as individuals could do the job just fine). So the good folks down under started working on getting some of the submissive love from the Labs and mixing it in with the allergy-free coats of the Poodles. The result, several decades later, is a wonderfully obedient dog with all the energy a small family can handle. He's clever (sometimes sneaky), very friendly, very very patient with small children who poke him in his eyes, and he never barks. Well, never used to bark. Something has happened and I've caught him barking a couple of times in the past two months. But even with that... he's not a barker.

Oh, and he doesn't shed. At all.

Argos is, however, terrified of the vacuum. He hides under the bed, runs into the other room, gets away and gets away fast. I've tried the psychological fixes that Cesar Milan (the Dog Whisperer) uses. I refused to coddle him, and I've even commanded the poor dog to stay in the room, on the bed, close enough to the vacuum to see it, and have refused to comfort him in his fear. It hurts me (as a human) to do this to him, but it works. Or it has worked. It's kind of hard to be consistent with it, because once he's under the bed, he's not coming back out. Ugh.

So this is where I get confused. He's terrified of the vacuum, but he plays chicken with the lawn-mower!!!! What is wrong with my dog? As I mow the lawn he charges it, then dodges aside at the last second. He'll pick up his ball and make a mad dash across the path of the mower, just feet in front of me. Today he just stood in my path staring at the machine as I rolled closer. I finally had to stop and yell at him to move. He did it twice, the second time he ignored me until I started pushing on towards him.

And this lawn mower isn't safe. I had to stop letting Cordelia be outside with me while I was mowing the lawn last summer after the spinning blades threw a rock or a peach-pit (or something small, hard, and aerodynamic at high speeds) at the house at a frightening velocity. If it had hit a window it would have smashed right through. Cordelia had been on the other side of the yard, picking flowers or something. I stopped the motor right then and urged her quickly into the house, explaining to Tammy why people were not allowed in the yard while I was mowing.

I'm honestly not comfortable with Argos out there while I'm mowing, but he loves being outside so much and he usually stays clear, chewing on his toys or playing with fallen apples, that I'm not terribly worried about him. And if I'm being honest, dogs just aren't little girls, no matter how cute and cuddly they can be sometimes.

If anybody thinks they understand why vacuums = fear and lawnmowers = exciting fun toys, please don't hesitate to speculate at me. I'm interested in all kinds of whacky explanations for my dog's insanity.

The Long-Suffering Tammy

Well, Tammy has submitted her resignation to Granite School District, though she’ll be finishing out the month. This has been a long and difficult decision for her, and it’s got me a little worried about finances, since she makes more money than I do, and we are generally only barely getting by, month-to-month, but it was a decision that needed to be made.

For the past three years (since about the time I met her) Tammy has been teaching high school math in Granite District. The first year she taught at the Juvenile Detention Center where all of her students were in a locked-down facility awaiting trial. She rarely had the same student for more than a few weeks at a time, though she often that the same students come back every few weeks or months. It was a very disheartening job, so the next year she moved to teaching at ARTEC West, which is still in the youth correctional program, but this school is an open campus (for most students), and a mental health facility, as many of the students are suffering from chemical dependence issues or come from backgrounds and situations that have rendered these children incapable or unwilling to integrate successfully into a mainstream public school.

Unfortunately, the level of professionalism brought to the facility by the “advocates”, who are not teachers or even qualified mental health professionals, but are actually just paid volunteers who come with the presumed intention to help communicate the needs of the students to the school faculty and vice-versa. However, these advocates, more often than not, actually turn out to be nothing more than enablers and excuse-makers for the students.

After two years of the frustration of working in that environment, Tammy made the somewhat difficult choice to leave friendly co-workers who she truly enjoyed working with, and made the move to mainstream public education. She began at Kennedy Junior High School in August of this year, and had regrets almost from the start. She was given 7^th and 8^th grade algebra and pre-algebra classes. Since receiving her BS in Teaching Mathematics and Statistics, she’s been teaching in structured environments, but in public school, the sense of entitlement that seemed to be a symptom caused by the advocates at ARTEC has been replaced in mainstreamed students by a vacuum, a lack of respect for themselves, their fellow students, their teachers, or anybody. Making things worse is the lack of disciplinary actions available. She can send students to the principal’s office, but that doesn’t do anything. She can call the students’ parents, but she can almost never reach them, and when she does, there are other problems, including the fact that many of these parents don’t speak English; and occasionally there is an appalling lack of interest by the parents.

Additionally, she even has some students that don’t speak English, and Tammy doesn’t speak Spanish or Vietnamese (the languages her students who don’t speak English are fluent in). This change has been overwhelming, but would have been tolerable if not for increased illness. Since she became pregnant with Cordelia, Tammy has been sick. An ovarian cyst burst when she was only 6 weeks along, about the same time she developed morning sickness, by 10 weeks, she couldn’t breathe if she was lying down. She saw every imaginable specialist in breathing, heart, back, lung, asthma, or allergy that each previous doctor could think of, none of them could put a finger on the problem. Once Cordelia was born, she could breathe again, but has had intense chronic back pain ever since. In recent months, the back pain has been occasionally debilitating, resulting in an ER visit several weeks ago (they discovered that she had Strep Throat, but it was completely unrelated to her back pain). About the same time that the back pain became so bad, she also became constantly nauseated. For the past 2-3 months, she’s not been able to eat more than about one meal each day, because after only a few bites she becomes ill. Her doctor had her go in for an ultrasound of her gall bladder (no result), he prescribed her an antacid, in case of ulcer (no result), currently she’s taking yet some other medication he prescribed (no result as of yet).

So she is resigning for medical reasons, and she’s going to start working from home. As luck would have it, the job her mom does from home has an opening and can start her training this week (from what I understand it can sometimes take weeks or even months before they have any openings). We’ll keep everybody posted about how it goes.