Doggie Drama And High School

I apologize to the second half of my readers yesterday. But you see, it wasn't my fault. Blogger is being a bit witchy and decided to eat the rest of my post, mid-paragraph. When I went in to rewrite the thing, I couldn't even access it. I couldn't delete it, add to it or change it. Stupid Blogger.

I think I got everyone up to speed via email (except for those who still need to enable that little feature that allows me to respond via email), but I'll give the brief and condensed version here. Spaniel Mom is a wonderful mother to 4 of the fattest babies I've seen in a while. Scottie Mom birthed 7 healthy babies and we were thrilled with such a huge litter. Quite suddenly they took a turn for the worst and we lost 3 yesterday. I'm bottle feeding 3 every hour on the hour (yeh, I get nothing else done. Seriously.), and the lone boy of the litter is fat and healthy and is being nursed by Scottie Mom. Being at the vet 3 times in as many days, we've finally decided there must be a mysterious virus somewhere in those tiny bodies and they're on antibiotics. I'm hoping they stop merely surviving and start thriving soon. I'm too old to be losing this much sleep. God did not intend middle aged women to have newborns. But I'll do anything to keep from losing more puppies from this litter. Obviously.

So tonight was Meet the Teacher Night. It started at 6:30 according to the paper asking for cookies to be donated (and I had every intention of baking them last night at 3:30 am but then realized that we didn't have chocolate chips). I got to the school only to find that they started at 6:00 instead. Niiiiice.

Wait, back up the wagon for a moment. This event covered elementary and high school and lasted 3 hours. Guess who needs fed every hour on the hour? Yep. They went with in a cutesy little basket with two handles. I tried desperately to make it look like my purse but the weird squeaky noises coming out of it drew a little attention.

I met with Luke's teacher, Josh's teacher and Josh's remedial reading teacher. (Who, by the way, is barely old enough to be out of school himself. And is very, very cute. And those two statements made together sound very pervy of me.) I fed the puppies in the remedial reading room because it was empty.

I ran over to the high school and was late for Becky's Health class. She's very glad we got there as the teacher was wrapping it up because I told her (when 2 friends were with) that I'd stand up and ask very loudly "are we going to be learning about sex this year?" Her friends found this highly amusing.

We moved onto Science and I had flashbacks of high school. It was my science teacher from when I was there! And he didn't change a bit. If he recognized me he didn't say anything. I didn't either, but mostly because I was so tired from feeding puppies all night and day that I never gave a thought to my looks, only getting there on time. I got to school only to realize that I hadn't applied any makeup, pulled my hair back in a ponytail mid-afternoon without brushing it, and my shirt was wrinkled and covered in fine puppy hair. Not really how you want a teacher to recognize you.

History was next. Holy cow, what is it with these young male teachers?! Are they hired on their looks alone? And me looking like a canine midwife just off duty. I made it a point to sit in the back of every class to keep the puppy whimpers to a minimum.

English class was interesting. The teacher was fabulous and I'm glad that Becky has her. But I was incredibly distracted by the fact that she's a Trekkie. The Jedi invaded the room and then proceeded to vomit paraphanalia profusely. It was a bit freaky.

The next teacher wasn't there so we headed to the library to feed the puppies. Who knew that I knew the librarian? She was more than thrilled to connect Becky to me, my parents, my sisters... Yeh, we're small town like that. It's sad, really.

Moving on to math class and my same algebra teacher. The only difference in him was that his hair is now white instead of brown. He's still got the bald top though. And I didn't introduce myself to him. (See why above.)

Last was Chorus. With my same music teacher. Seriously, do these people never retire? By this time I was running on how long have I been up? and stupidly sat in the second row. The puppies' heating pad was now cool and they were voicing their displeasure. My foot jiggling the basket did nothing to stop the noise. I was forced to pick up the basket and hold them. The teacher was actually quite relieved. To quote her, "oh thank goodness. Are they puppies? I thought I heard something and was afraid I was on candid camera or something." This interruped the class for a few minutes while everyone came to see. And me with my wrinkled, smelly shirt and a hot mess on my head.

It's just a shame that Starbucks isn't on the way home from the school. I seriously need something to keep this old woman going.