The Boys Have a Candice Jolly Of Their Very Own

So, We all know that the boys love Candice Jolly, the monster truck driver, and if you ask the Pizzmeister why he likes her he'll say, "She's a way cool Monster Truck driver!"

This is nothing knew.  

He's been infatuated with her ever since he saw her rolling out a "slap-wheelie" in what he calls her "puppy dog truck," the Monster Mutt Dalmation.

Yes, he loves her.  This isn't news.

But...what you don't know is that he loves her so much that he begged us to adopt her.

So, being softies, Mama Bear and I did.  

Of course, we couldn't very well adopt the real Candice Jolly, but we did the next best thing.

Here she is!

The boys would like to introduce you to their very own Candice Jolly!

She's a rescue dog that is 8-9 weeks old, and she absolutely adores the kids.  The woman who rescued her claims that she is a Border Collie and Lab mix, but I am doubtful, and it doesn't matter to me what breed she is anyway.

She's a pleasant little puppy that was riddled with parasites and needed a home, and we needed a pup for the boys.  

Works out well for everybody.  She gets a home and gets to be finally rid of her parasites, and the boys get to have a buddy that follows them around and loves them.

Definitely a win win situation.

Oh, and before anyone decides it's their duty to write and tell me that it is too soon to get a new dog and that puppies are a lot of work, let me just say "You can spare me the lecture.  One, it's already done.  Two, I am very well aware of how much 'work' a puppy is.  Three, our Candice Jolly isn't replacing our old dogs.  She's just a new puppy, so the boys can have a playmate.   She's not Zane or Zoey, and we don't expect her to be.  But, with that said, we DO expect her to be a valued member of this family."

Saying "So Long" to our Dearest Friends, I Wish you Could have Known Them

Zane on the Left Zoey on the right

Since the beginning, before Mama Bear was Mama Bear and back when I was Just a Dizzy Guy and not Just a Dizzy Dad, we had these two knuckleheads as faithful friends and as our family mascots. 

It feels like an eternity has passed since they found us.  

Mama Bear and I were young.  They were young and healthy, and we were all happy.  

Then, gradually, things started changing, but they were always there, always waiting for us when we stepped through the door.

Zane and I being all younger and shiz

They were there celebrating with us when Mama Bear and I married. They calmed us and reassured us during Mama Bear's application process to graduate school.  They helped us move into our home when we bought it.  Zane even helped me study when I finally went to undergrad. 

Then came even bigger changes and challenges, the birth of our sons, and we depended on our mascots to comfort us and calm all of our anxieties.   They reassured us that we could handle it and just about anything else that came our way

Our mutts, Zane and Zoey, have been with Mama Bear and I for almost our entire adult lives, helping us along.

Now, they have just one more task, helping us say "Good Bye."

It will be strange for all of us to wake up or come home and not have them there to greet us.  The boys never knew life without them.

This is some pretty hard shit to write.  

Like most people, I suck at good bye's, and no matter how much practice I get, it never gets easier.

It's never simple.

I find myself reminiscing and remembering the very first days and trying to convince myself it isn't time yet.

But, they're ready, and I mustn't selfishly keep holding on.

Zoey, was a ragamuffin we stumbled across at the SPCA. 

She was filthy, malnourished, completely untrained, and perfect for us.

She was so ragged that Mama Bear and I both thought she was a much older dog than she was. 

She had just had a litter of pups, and the family that fostered her didn't recognize the symptoms of pregnancy.  They thought she was just getting fat, so they starved the poor girl.  

When we took her home she was nothing but skin and bones.  We nursed her back to health, trained her, cleaned her, put the poor dogger through two hip surgeries, loved her, and for 12 years she's been a dear friend to us.

12 Years!

Boy, would we be unbelieving if on day one, in 2001, you would have told us she would live to see us through college, a house of our own, the birth of two brats, and make it to see beyond the drop of the ball in 2013.

That's a lot of miles and milestones!

Zane was another hard luck case.

You wouldn't believe it, but when brought him home in 2001 to stay forever, he was little more than fur. 

A family friend found him abandoned in a field with another puppy.  They were both malnourished, but Zane was the worse for it.  His rear legs were weak, and he relied on his front legs to get around.  

Our friend took the puppies to a different SPCA, where they placed them next to a dog that they suspected had parvo, a death sentence to already weakened puppies.  

So, much like we did with Zoey, we brought the two ragamuffins home with us, nursed them to health, and loved them.  

We found Zane's sister a home and decided to keep Zane because we couldn't bear to part with him.  Who doesn't fall in love with a hard luck case they nursed back to health?

Well, we kept him for that reason and because no one else we knew would want a dog that had constant bladder problems because it wasn't developed properly from the malnutrition.  

Anyway, we kept him, we fixed him up, we put him through a hip surgery to relieve some of the pain from his hip dysplasia, and we have loved him for the past 12 years.   

Now, Mama Bear, the boys, and I have to face what all pet owners must face.  

We have to let our dearest friends go on their way, and go on with out them.

Zane and Zoey, you both were always more than pets.  You are both loved, and I hope that you both know it.   

Thank you for the years you have devoted to us.

My Very First Vlog!

I'm Sorry if Our Happy is Louder Than Your Misery!

I've never really noticed this before, but it turns out I may be kind of freakish.  

I only say this because the past few days I have been getting strange looks from other parents when I am out and about with the boys.

At first, I chalke d it up to my fly being unzipped or something, so I, not so suavely, checked to make sure my pants were in proper order, which, understandably, garnered me more weird looks from  the other parents and an embarrassed sounding "Daddy!  What are you doing?!"  from my three year old.

OK.

So, if it's not my fly, then it has to be something else.

But, what?

Well, I think I figured it out yesterday while we were at Chuck E. Cheese with the boys.

As usual, whenever we go someplace where the boys can play, I like to play with them too.  When we're at the park, I'm the big guy going down the slide with the toddler or racing the three year old to the swings.  I've even stroller raced a teenager before, and when we're at the zoo or the science center it's much the same.  You'll see me playing with the boys, having fun.  

Mama Bear's the same way.

We're a great pair that way.

Anyway, I kind of figured that it was the same for all parents.

I mean, the best part of places like the park, zoo, science center, and even Chuck E. Cheese is that you get to go out and play with your brats right?

Well, apparently not everyone thinks so.  

While we were all playing and having a lot of fun yesterday I noticed that a few of the other parents and grandparents in the restaurant were giving us those same strange looks I just started noticing I've been getting a lot a few days ago.  So, I nonchalantly checked my fly again.

Nope, not that.

Then I realized I was making a lot of noise, which made me a little self-conscience.  I looked around, hoping I wasn't the only unruly parent there, and was glad to see that there was another father and at least one other mother doing much the same as we were.

The rest of the adults were either looking like they were being tortured, or they had their noses stuck to a smart phone, doing their best to pretend they were anywhere but where they were.

Those were the men and women doling out the dirty looks like candy tossers at a parade.  I guess our fun was disrupting their Words with friends or Angry Birds or whatever they were doing on their phones.  

This made me kind of sad.

Why bother even taking your children someplace if you're not even going to try and pretend that you're enjoying yourself too?  

Then, I got a little miffed that they were giving me and the other parents that were playing like kids strange looks as if we were some kind of freaks because we were actually having fun.  So, I made it a point to ignore them and continue on as usual.

I'm not going to let their misery be louder than my happy.  

The way I see, I only have so much time left before neither brat wants anything to do with me anymore.  I'm not about to waste any of it.

Air Show!

So, this past weekend Mama Bear and I took the boys to an air and car show, and the boys seemed to have a great time despite the heat.

But, not surprisingly, what the Pizzmeister seemed to like best wasn't the really cool Airplanes, or the helicopters that were on display. 

No, they were cool and all, but not as cool as the firetruck that was hanging around. 

Of course, once we saw that there was a fire truck, the Pizzmeister couldn't wait for the rest of us and took off towards it, which was alright because we were following and kept an eye on the bugger.

Can't be letting the little brat run off on his own you know

Anyway, the Pizzmeister started chatting up the firefighters right away, and before too long finagled a deal where he and his brother, Two-zy, were allowed to get up into the truck.

Highlight of the entire air show...well, it was until...

The Pizzmeister found out that there were RC Airplanes on display and being flown.

We were lucky to ever leave the air show after this little discovery.  

For a solid half hour he was bouncing around, laughing his buns off, and dazzling the rc guys with his non-stop questions.

It was great!  

And, it's the only thing besides the firetruck he is still talking about since we left the show.  

Now, Daddy has a new mission...

Find an RC Airplane club and beg them to let us watch them fly their planes.

Hey, I'm a Dad, and not above begging, within reason, when it is to make the boys happy.

Here's a clip I took of one of the amazing RC Pilots.  I think his fancy flying is what won the boy over. 

Back Yarding!

Here is a quick, fun, little video the boys and I created showing you all how we spend our days.    

Enjoy!

Kevin The Jeep!

Wait a minute!  Is that a picture of a little boy on a pink Barbie Beach Ranger Power Wheels?!

Why yes.  Yes, it is.  Why do you ask?

Barbie isn't for boys and neither is the color pink!

Um...you wanna bet?!  And besides,  the color of something doesn't magically change what it is.

So, over the weekend the grandparents were driving around, as they often do, and came across a free power wheels that they thought the Pizzmeister and his brother, Two-zy, would just love.

So, they shoved it in the trunk of their car as best they could and took it home, and they were right.  The boys did in fact fall in love with the Barbie Beach Ranger, now dubbed "Kevin the Jeep," immediately, but there was a problem.

We didn't know if Kevin would actually run, and I had no idea if I could get it running since I knew nothing about the inner workings of a Power Wheels.  Fortunately, after closer inspection I learned that it is essentially just a large remote control car, something I know about.

Phew! I thought.  

I can deal with that, and in fact I even have larger motors than what the power wheels has kicking around and can really get this pink beauty hauling petunias, but I decided that maybe I should just settle for slow and steady!

Anyway, as it turns out, running or not, Kevin was the coolest thing in the world, and it didn't matter what color it was.  All that mattered was that it had a steering wheel, tires, and a power source, which the boys had plenty of as any number of adults and Grammy's house are willing to push the rugrats around while they are driving there little Jeep.

But, being who I am, I wasn't satisfied with pushing the dobbers.  I wanted to see if Kevin the Barbie Beach Ranger Power Wheels would actually run.  So, I started where any sensible parent would start.  With a battery search.

Holy smokes are batteries expensive for a power wheels, and then you need a charger

too.

Not happening!

So, as you can see in this photo, I went back to Grammy and Grampy's house with Uncle Ra after the boys went to bed, and we did what we do best.  We improvised with what we have on hand, which was an old lawn mower battery and some lawn mower connectors.  The only problem was we had to cut the battery compartment to get the lawn mower battery to fit, and then find a way to secure it in place, but then the hood wouldn't close, but who cares?  It's a free power wheels that works, and the boys love it.

We spent a good part of Sunday digging holes and filling them with water because, of course, Kevin the jeep is a mud loving, rock crawler kind of a jeep.