Christmas is of course the birthday of our savior Jesus Christ. I want to celebrate the true meaning of Christmas. I feel guilty that I’ve let myself get wrapped up in the commercial competitions that now define the holiday. It’s not about the newest toys, the games, or name brand clothes. It’s not about who gives or gets the best, most expensive things. I’ve grown to not even like Christmas, but I’m trying to change. I’m trying to be more positive about the whole thing. It just seems to be a few days or weeks of running around until your exhausted, getting and giving random presents. Gifts are great, but that shouldn’t be all Christmas is about. I like getting things as much as anyone else, but I would much rather give. I guess I just want it all to mean something. I want Christmas to be about Jesus, family, and giving to others. I’ve had a few experiences the past few weeks that I feel show the meaning of Christmas.
The first is really quite simple. It’s just people being nice. My husband and I went shopping last weekend. It was busy, but could have been worse. We got something to eat before we started. When leaving the restaurant, he held the door for an elderly couple. They were one of those cute couples that I hope to be someday. I stood and waited with him as we let them leave before us. They were so sweet. They told us thank you, Merry Christmas, and to have a blessed day. Everywhere we went that day, people were kind. Such a simple thing that we are often too busy to do. Just be kind. Hold that door, smile, say Merry Christmas. Random acts of simple kindness to strangers. That’s what Christmas is about.
My school, a public school, does Santa’s Helpers. It’s our own take on an Angel Tree. With help from multiple local organizations, we were able to provide gifts and food to over 70 kids in our small school. It’s amazing to see so many come together for a good cause. These kids may not have gotten any gifts otherwise. Their families probably really needed that food to make it through the two weeks that school is out. When kids are home constantly, it’s unbelievable the amount of food they go through. I am truly honored to help with this. What better way to celebrate Christmas than to give to someone who truly needs it. Giving, but not receiving. That’s Christmas.
The final thing is with my own children. I get frustrated with my sons for always talking about what they want. We buy something for someone and they want it. I’m often afraid that I’m not teaching them enough about Christmas and giving to others. This year, they both bought for others. Sure, I along with their grandparents helped, but they took the time to think of others. My younger son was able to shop at school at a Holiday Shop. The gifts he picked out aren’t much, but they’re from him. He also spent a day shopping with his grandma and there are several more gifts under the tree. My oldest asked to go shopping just the other night. It was raining and crazy in town so we made him go with his grandpa. I haven’t opened his present yet, but he says he doesn’t even know what it is. Whatever it is, it won’t matter. The gifts are from them. I’m sure they will be some of my most treasured possessions. I am proud of them for thinking of others. Maybe they do get what Christmas is about.
I’m going to cherish the rest of my Christmas and do even better into next year. I am going to celebrate Jesus’ birth. I am going to appreciate the blessing of my family. I’m going to enjoy giving to others without complaining. I want more of the positive parts of Christmas throughout the entire year. ❤️
If you think this is going to be that kind of ‘dirty’ blog post, you will be disappointed. It’s not what you think. Although, I am going to talk about dirt and my chest. Mornings are crazy around here especially with the two Great Danes. I’m sure most households with kids and animals are. It’s always a challenge to get out the door on time. Thankfully, I only live 5 minutes from work because I despise being late.
This morning, the dogs were particularly hyper. Our routine was a little off. I’m not sure why. You know how it is. One little thing changes and the whole morning is thrown off kilter. The Danes have to have their regular schedule also. I always let them out first thing. When they come in, it’s their breakfast time. I took a few minutes before feeding them today. I was turning from the kitchen sink. Titus who is usually my laid back boy decided to jump. I guess he was ready for his morning meal and letting me know. Gentle giants? Ummm…most of the time.
When they jump, they are taller than me. I strongly discourage it. 140 lbs. of dog is too much weight for my shoulders and if I’m not prepared it could be a disaster. I scolded him, not thinking much of it. He didn’t get his paws to my shoulders. It was more of a slight blow to the chest. I wasn’t hurt, finished my morning routine, and made it to work on time. These dogs are just like over grown kids. It’s a work in progress to get them to behave and always will be. They occasionally act out and get in trouble when they do so.
When I got to work, someone asked if I was okay while looking at my chest. I look down to see brown spots. It seems Titus had left his dirty paw prints all over the front of my shirt. Yep, I went to work looking like I had been felt up by my dog. Best of all, I had on a white shirt. A Clorox wipe and all was fine. I’m just grateful that I didn’t see many people first thing. Can you imagine? Who goes around with dirty paw prints on their chest? Probably only me. Most dogs can’t reach a standing person’s chest. I can’t make this stuff up. This is my life. It would be rather boring without these big goofballs. 🐾
Confession– a formal statement admitting that one is guilty of a crime.
I love my kids. I always will. I birthed these boys. But being a mom is the hardest thing I will ever do. . My oldest is 17 and I’m still learning and making mistakes. Kids are brats. Mine included. They talk back. Boys are sweaty and dirty and stinky. They are growing up and don’t like me all the time. My dogs are brats too. They stink, and they talk back. But they are always excited to see me even if I’ve only been gone 10 minutes. I’ve raised my boys to be self-sufficient. They can cook, clean, and do laundry. The dogs can’t. They wouldn’t survive without me. Most days I don’t care if my boys have nice clothes on or even if their clothes are appropriate for the weather. I pick my battles and that isn’t one of them. I do expect them to be respectful and that is a battle I will always win. I make my kids mad and they make me mad too. I am their biggest supporter, but I’m not their friend. Its my responsibility as a parent to make sure they become responsible adults. It’s my job to make sure they have everything they need. They are fed, clothed, and sheltered It is not my job to make sure they have everything they want. They have to learn that everything is not just handed to them. Christmas is coming and my boys won’t get everything they want. At least not from me. I would rather buy for those that really need it. The dogs could care less about Christmas. They don’t want expensive things unless you count their food or all the toys they tear up. My boys joke that I cook for the dogs more than I do for them. That might be true. Sometimes the boys eat ramen noodles for dinner that they make themselves. There’s days that my boys make me so mad that I can’t even look at them. Then there’s days that they make me laugh until I cry happy tears. If you say you always like your kids, you’re lying. We all have off days. We have days when we don’t know if we are doing this parenting thing right. So here’s my confession: I’m not always a good human mom, sometimes I like my dogs more than I like my kids. It’s not exactly a crime. Although there are those that would like to think so. 🐾
I had big plans to sleep in today. I have been up late several nights here lately. I was even up when the time changed this morning. You don’t gain an hour of sleep when your awake! My husband and youngest son left out early this morning to go hunting. Of course that woke the dogs up. Have you ever tried to sleep when two Great Danes want you to get up? It’s impossible.
I hear someone whining and I tell them to lay down and be quiet. They do for a minute at least. I doze back off and feel someone breathing in my face. I swat at whoever it is. I don”t open my eyes to see which one it was. They have gotten good at deflecting me so I don’t make contact. I roll over and try to doze off. Someone jumps on the bed and lays on my hair pulling it. I open my eyes and see it’s Titus. He will sometimes go back to sleep when he gets in bed with me.
I pull my hair out from under him and roll over again. As soon as I lay my head down I get a paw to the face. If you’ve never felt this, it’s like a full slap. Their paws are as big as my the palms of my hands. They can stand beside the bed and thump my head. I tell Ramsey to quit as I pull the covers over my head. The next thing I feel is the dogs at the end of the bed digging under the covers for my feet. Yes, both of them. They each have a foot. They paw and mouth my feet until I can’t even try to sleep anymore. They are usually gentle with this but I don’t like anyone messing with my feet.
I finally just get up and let them out. The clock may say 5:00 in the morning, but they don’t know it. They don’t realize time changed or that mom is tired. All they can think about is getting outside to pee so they can come back in to eat. I let them back in and feed them. I get some laundry going while they eat. As soon as they are done, they go back to the bedroom and fall asleep for the next couple of hours. Seriously????
I’m really glad someone can sleep around here. I’m over here wide awake even though I only had a couple of hours of uninterrupted sleep. My body always gets confused after time change. It knows my routine and changing the time is not routine. I had plans to stock some of that sleep up for the coming week. I guess it wasn’t in their plans for me. They don’t care, they can sleep while I have to work and do other responsible human things. Maybe eventually they will stop boycotting the things I need. Until then, I will keep on keeping on while laughing at these crazy beasts that I love. ❤️
Yesterday was Halloween which is always a busy day. In the morning at work, I had been talking to a coworker about my dogs. I may have been bragging. I mean, I love them. They are USUALLY pretty good. I told him how they listen and act right. I told him how I had written a blog about leaving them at home on Halloween and not dressing them in costumes. You know what happens when you brag. At least it always happens to me.
I came home for lunch. Both Great Danes were inside. The little dogs were outside, but came in with me. I walk towards the kitchen, see what looks like Halloween threw up all over the kitchen floor. I wasn’t even sure what it was at first. It really just stopped me in my tracks. I begin yelling like a crazy person. Thankfully, no one lives near enough to hear me. Picture this- a woman yelling nonsense at her dogs while white powder floats around. That sounds like a trip to jail. In the meantime, all the dogs are running through it and tracking it out more than it already was. You see it wasn’t Halloween candy, it was sugar and lots of it. Like white powdery snow indoors.
I finally stop and realize all the dogs are just making it worse and my yelling is not helpful in any way. They are now just terrified. I get them outside and investigate further. Well it seems the Danes decided they needed their own sugar-high. It was Halloween after all. There was a full, unopened 10 pound bag of sugar, plus another partial bag and some tea bags ripped to shreds. All the lovely sugary goodness was spread out all over the kitchen. Keep in mind that these are things that are kept behind a closed cabinet door.
So I snap a picture. I mean no one is going to believe this even happened. Might as well document what jerks my dogs are. What were they even thinking?- opening a closed door and ripping not one but two bags of sugar and also some tea bags up. We are southerners and drink sweet tea 24/7. Groceries are expensive. We can’t be wasting tea bags and sugar.
I sweep what I can up. It takes forever. It’s probably at least 12lbs. of sugar. Have I mentioned it’s everywhere?? After a bit, I decide there is no possible way I can clean this entire mess up and not be late back to work. Would that even be a legitimate excuse? So, I grab something to eat. I text my husband the picture. Say some select words about how much I “love” the dogs. After that, I proceed to let the big devils back in, yell at them some more, and go back to work.
As the afternoon goes on, I tell a few people and am even able to laugh about it. It is hilarious. Or at least it is until I get home, have less than an hour to get warm clothes, get a kid in a costume, head out to the real Halloween party, and I need to clean up sugar again. It’s never ending. Apparently, they slobbered in some. It’s stuck to the floor like hard candy. Are they like kids, drooling over some sugar?? I do what I can once again and text the husband to please give his attempt at getting more sugar up while I’m gone. Thankfully, we’ve been married a long time and he already knows I’m slightly psychotic. It’s these dogs that make me this way seriously.
Here’s what I have learned the hard way:
Never brag. Anytime I do, it bites me. My dogs aren’t really that well behaved.
Don’t blog about not letting the dogs participate in Halloween. They will throw their own party with lots of sugar.
Sugar is impossible to clean up. It’s been more than 24 hours and I still feel it on my bare feet.
I am literally a Crazy Dane Mom. I can’t make this stuff up. This isn’t a fiction blog, this is my life.
Tomorrow is Halloween. I see all these cute pics of Great Danes in costumes. I mean they are adorable. I wish I had it in me to try to dress my two up. They are brats. They would probably eat the costume. Titus would have his tail between his legs, acting like I was really hurting him. They don’t like many new or different things. I do good to get them to wear their harnesses when we go out. I’m thinking it would not be fun for them. They love going places, but the kids on sugar highs are going to be running around crazy. They would probably tackle a kid.
Last year, my younger son was a zombie and wanted me to dress up with him. I did, so that should count for a few years right? Im not feeling very creative this year. I’m not going to any extra Halloween parties. I’m not doing a cute couple costume with my husband. He wasn’t thrilled when we have done it before. I just don’t have it in me either. I guess I’m just old and tired and lazy. I’m already dreading being out late tomorrow. I did buy some candy for my office. My son has a store bought costume and a bag. I will go to a family party and let him trick or treat. That’s good enough I think.
Thankfully, we live out in the country and don’t get many visitors. But just in case, I will make sure the lights are off. While my Danes love kids, they act like some junkyard dogs when someone knocks on the door. It even scares me. They would give some little kid a heart attack. The candy is not worth it, I promise. So here’s hoping not everyone is a Scrooge like me ’cause I do like chocolate. 👻🐾
I said in my previous blog that I would rather look at Dane pages than to view personal drama on Facebook. It’s true, but the Dane pages come with lots of their own drama. They are just like everything else. Everyone has an “expert” opinion and most are judgmental keyboard warriors. They would never say the things they type to a person’s face. See here’s the deal- people tend to be super brave when they are behind a computer screen or holding a phone.
Great Dane owners post a simple question or even just a pic showing off their baby and are bashed about it. I hesitate to post much except on my personal page. I don’t want the judgment from someone who thinks they are a Great Dane God. I will just continue to be a troll. Viewing but not posting. Reading others experiences, but rarely sharing my own.
For example, a random person makes a post asking for advice about their dogs size. Another person comments asking what they are feeding their dog. Proceeds to tell them how horrible the food is and what a horrendous owner they are for not feeding raw that costs $200 a week. Another person comments that the dog’s nails are way too long and need cut. Someone says they should always crate their dogs. And yet another says the dog must be poorly bred because it’s an off color. All of these people begin an argument about what they believe is best. It ends with cursing and people being blocked and kicked off the page. Why?!?!?
I’ve learned there is more cliques in the Dane world than are in a high school especially with breeders. They will bash anyone’s name who they hear what they perceive as bad things about. The majority of it is hearsay. I mean you never know exactly what is going on unless you are there. Why can’t they give people the benefit of the doubt? Everyone makes mistakes and they should be constantly learning.
Opinions vary greatly about colors, size, health testing, age to spay/neuter, and many other things. None of us are going to agree 100% on everything. What happened to if you didn’t like something, you just keep scrolling. There’s no need to comment that someone’s pups are lousy looking and too expensive. Just keep scrolling. There’s no need to tell someone how horrible they are because they choose to breed off colors that aren’t showable. Keep scrolling. There’s no need to tell someone they’re going to hell for not health testing. Keep scrolling.
Now let me just say there are lots of horrible things that happen in the Dane world. There were 84 dogs seized from one house awhile back. There are breeders breeding spot to spot and selling puppies with major health problems. There are people forging AKC papers. There are buyers getting scammed. Things like these do need to be brought to others’ attention.
I believe that if all the “good” owners and breeders could get along and help educate others without being rude or judgmental, it would be much better. People can disagree and still get along. I like to think most people love their dogs. Each dog is different and will need to be cared for differently. Every persons’ situation is different. If they are like me, they are constantly researching and learning. Hopefully, they are doing the best they can to care for their dog.
So bottom line, don’t comment things on Facebook that you wouldn’t say to a person’s face. If you do not have helpful advice, or are not interested in a person’s puppies, just keep scrolling. I will just keep trolling and feeling sorry for those that get bashed. Titus says piss on all the rude judgmental people. 😄