buster. mayor of puppytown.

this blog is about a year old... i was too hurt to post it at the time. september of last year. buster was made a gift to me.
my dad, who often came to visit with us in san diego, came by and showed me a photo of two tiny TINY min pin puppies, both fit in his hand.
"which one do you want?"
it was a pretty exciting question, i had wanted a puppy for so long and hadnt had a baby dog since the cookie debaucle of 1990...

i chose the pretty brown boy. buster.
after buster keaton, if you must know. the second of his name. the first, a fish- who was short lived in mike mcfarland's tank with two evil shrimp.

the moment we took up residence in phoenix, 2006, he became mine. i looked after him and his sister, May, a tiny TINY black baby dog, as i looked for a place to live and proceeded to grow larger and larger with a zoe in my belly.

pregnancy makes you insane. and all i needed to grow crazier and crazier was two tiny lives to care for. i bought them tiny clothes, which they hated. i proclaimed Buster Mayor of Puppytown and May Deputy Mayor of Puppytown and Killer- sweet shy killer, with his grey beard, he was also an adopted min-pin of the then shared Thompson/Lenz household- Sherrif of Puppytown.

when we moved to our little condo May May went to live with my grandmother and grandad in their house with a beautiful yard. i cried like an idiot.

when zoe was born buster immidiately decided he wanted to live with infant zoe in her bassinet and lick her face consistently.
he went to stay with my grandparents for a while.

and when zoe was big enough, he came home. although life in a condo was not for him. Buster was a high-energy guy and he loved to run and run and run... we took him for long walks around the complex, he ran and jumped and scampered beside us every day while we went for long long walks with zoe in her push car. but he was happier when we would take him over to grandmother and grandads to play with May May and run and run and bark.
at a condo, barking was always noticed and remarked upon. at a home with a yard, it was a fun passtime.

we moved into our own home with a yard in june 2010. and buster was finally happy. he had his zoe, who was obviously, since the moment of her birth, his favorite of all the human kind.

when we first moved in buster made it his personal mission, as mayor of puppytown, to find and report all possible breach points in our back yard security. he did this by escaping the back yard, coming to the front door and letting us know he was on the lamb... and then letting us chase him about the neighborhood. he never wanted to escape though, he always marched home. and when we plugged the hole he made sure that the next possible escape routes were ferretted out and then plugged.

buster and zoe were absolutely in love. she picked out the ugliest collar and tag on earth for him. and the two of them played all day in the yard and cuddled at nap time. and when rocket arrived, the two of them sought only to protect him from all possible harm and simultaneaously to engage him in all possible mischeif.

he was our boy.

over the years my mom and dad moved into grandmother and grandads house, with the beautiful yard, when they passed on. they took in may may and killer. and we brought two new puppies into the fold christmas of 2010, Bella and Bruiser. Bella was aquired as a puppy present for my neice, Delilah- but my mom fell in love with Bella and so Bruiser was aquired for Delilah instead. we got two new souls that year. and they were loved by all, including buster and killer.

one night my momma had all the kiddos- parker, drew, delilah, zoe and baby rocket in her care. she also had her our dog kiddos, bella and bruiser.

she put the dogs out in the evening while she was putting the kids to bed to do their night time business. there was barking, unusual type barking, but she assumed the doggies were as safe as they had always been in her beautiful yard.
when she went to let the doggies in, as she always did at bed time, no one came.

she found bella and bruiser, two tiny baby chihuahas, cowering in their very large kennel, which was furnished with blankets and doggie beds and was always open for them. but May May and Killer were not there.
my gramma and papa live in the adjacent yard. they found may may and killer. murdered, obviously, and carried off by a larger animal. but what? an owl or hawk? a bobcat or kyotoe?
whatever it was, it got the two biggest and most aggressive dogs, killer and may may- the sherrif and deputy mayor of puppytown, and it left bella and bruiser hiding and obviously very scared and in shock.

we speculated on what could have happened as we mourned for two prescious doggie friends and family members who had obviously given up their lives to defend the two baby dogs.
in the back of my mind i kept thinkging that if buster had been there, no owl or other nefarious creature would have attacked them. buster was big- for a minpin- he was bigger than maymay at least- and he was aggressive. he had little man syndrome and would take on the biggest opponents like it was nothing. including my friends, and the mailman, and our neighbors.

i was foolish.

and when september came and i had to take zoe and rocket out of town with my parents, i thought buster would be safe in the beautiful yard at my grandparents house with my other grandparents looking after him and checking on him three or more times a day.
and he was.
the whole time we were gone. until the day we set out for home.

we left san diego for home on sunday afternoon.
my grandparents had checked on buster saturday morning and saturday afternoon. when they came back to see him saturday evening, he had been attacked and murdered by soem kind of animal who could have chased him, even though he was fast. and cornered him, even though he had a kennel to hide in, and caught him- even though he was big and aggressive and feisty. the mysterious animal struck again, and won, and not only killed the mayor of puppy town in a secure and secluded inner yard- where there was a covered kennel under a covered patio- but the mysterious murderous animal carried him away into the neighboring yard. and left him.


my dad pulled me aside on our way home on sunday to tell me what happened. my papa had found buster, which couldnt have been but a short while after the incident- he was checked on 3 or more times a day... and he told me what happened.
i was shocked and sad and i immidiately felt ultimately responsable... i should have obviously found someplace else for him to stay... i was so stupid... to let him stay in a yard that had been previously attacked... i just thought that there was no way a vicious animal would strike twice in the same yard or that it would get a bigger stronger more animated and aggressive dog like buster. i never thought he was in any danger in their yard, being checked on 3-4 times a day. but i was wrong. and so it was my falut that buster was gone from us.

but my own sadness at losing my baby dog was sharply put in a back seat- zoe had just lost her best friend. how would i tell her?
i decided to say nothing until dorian and i could tell her together...
on the way home she said over and over that she couldnt wait to tell buster about her trip and bring him home... i told her that buster wanted to stay a little while longer...

she asked why and why and why... finally i had to tell her, without dorian, that buster wasnt coming home again. thats all that i wrote then. i couldnt continue. telling zoe that buster was gone was the hardest conversation i have ever had to particiapte in to date. she still asks me every day if buster is happy in heaven, and if grandmother and grandaddy are keeping him safe. if he is watching her. if he sees how fun rocket is and if he is sad that he doesnt get to play with rocket. bella lives with us now, and she LOVES my babies and she watches them like a tiny chichuaha hawk. zoe and rocket are happy with bella to cuddle, and my parents got a big dog, magic, to patrol their yard. we learned later that there was a rogue coyote in their neighborhood... but i still cant understand how all of our fierce creatures could have come victim to the same animal... maybe i am naieve. magic is a big black lab. she loves my babies and she loves my baby doggie, bella. we have a happy family, but buster will always ALWAYS be missed. the mayor of puppytown, he was. and our family friend. recently some friends of ours lost their baby dog to a tragic accident, and i feel for them. i still feel the pain accutely when i think of telling zoe that buster was not going to come home to us... ive never felt more pain that experiencing her greif for her friend and companion. rest well, buster. we know that you watch over zoe and rocket as the mayor of puppytown heaven.

wedding misadventures, part one.

before i can start fresh and be in it to win it... i need to clear the decks... this is now one year old. lets see how it holds up. set the scene: heading to New York to be both honored bridesmaid and flower girl for my best friend since we were but weirdos in 7th grade... lesley robin. well. we set out with good intentions. enough snacks, activities, toys and chewables to either cholke a donkey or keep the kids busy. we arrived 2 hours early only to find that our flight was 2 hours delayed.

luckily, playing peek a boo and running around the terminal served up 2 hours of entertainment while we waited to board.
lesley (bride #1's) mom, deborah robin, was on our flight.... so there was extra pressure to keep the kids happy and calm on the way to Newark Airport.
the kids did great, once we got on a plane. rocket napped for 3 out of 4 hours and zoe was entertained by the glorious gift of ipod, vsmile, leapster AND coloring books.
we arrived in Newark and set out to find out rental car. only to find out that the signs in all the terminals and trains DID NOT LEAD to our rental car. we gave up and abandoned our reservation in favor of renting a car from wherever we were. it turned out OK. we got a van and a car seat for Rocket. we set out for Poughkeepsie.

I was a little dismayed to be missing the ladies night of fun that would be lesley's bachelorette party, but in the end it turned out to be a blessing that i went, instead, with my parents to get the kids settled up north.

we got to poughkeepsie after a lot of grumbling alot of GPS 'redirecting' and a stop at olive garden. we walked in to the poughkeepsie inn with a sinking feeling but hope still affloat that we would soon be settled and good. not to be.

at the poughkeepsie inn we were greeted by a mentally handicapped gentleman. i say that not to be rude, but because he was clearly MENTTALLY handicappped. i have love for the special needs community, i embrace them. im not sure they are necessarily well suited to the service industry.
"reservation for Ken Stewart" says i
"yes, you have 3 rooms."
"no. we have one room for 3 nights."
"yes. ken stewart. 3 rooms. for 3 nights"
"no. one room"
"no. three" holds up 3 pieces of paper.
"ok. well. there should not be 3 reservations. there should be only one"
"there are 3"
"yes. ok. two of them are probably incorrect and need to be cancelled because there should only be one"
"these two are from expedia.com and they are already charged to the credit card. this one is from our website and is not paid for yet."
"well, here's a question... why would i make two reservations on expedia for the exact same thing and then make a different reservation on your website, again- for the same thing?"
"i dont know."
"ok. well, we are going to have to cancel two of these reservations."
"right. well, to cancel these two you have to call expedia.com because they are already paid."
"ok. lets get expedia on the horn"
"ok. how did you want to pay for this third reservation?"
"you have three reservations for me, two that i have already paid for and you want to know how am i going to pay for the third?"
"right"
"call expedia."

after alot of "yes mam, i understand" i got two of them cancelled and then to a blank stare i cancelled the third. so long poughkeepsie inn.
we hiked up the road to holiday inn express where there was a micorwave, fridge, free breakfast and 90% less murder than the poughkeepsie inn.

friday was the rehearsal. zoe was pretty psyched to find baby goats, full sized goats, pigs, chickens and frogs on the farm. she attempted to feed each critter grass and a few accepted.
zoe started a small fire, but that got set right. i couldnt spend too much time catching up with the girls because, you know, zoe is likely to set fires when left on her own.
but the rehearsal went great. it was wonderful to see some familliar faces and zoe had a blast. she fell in love with lesley and even caught a moth and made her a gift of it.

saturday. september 10. 2011.
zoe and i arrived at around 1:30 to hang with the girls while they dressed and we sipped champagne. SO good to see liselle, kat, liz, meredith and stephanie. and really nice to get to know kelsey. wonderful girls. and galens mom is awesome. and lesley's mom is like a mom to me, of course. it was really special to get to be part of the whole thing. lesley's dress was so perfect. it was short, sassy, but classy and beautiful. so tasteful but so unusual. and, leeann from project runway made it so- boom. it has star power. i would expect no less than something so extraordinary and perfect from lesley anne robin.

zoe was spot on as flower girl and pancake did a pretty great job as ring bearer. the ceremony was beautiful. performed by the couple's friend Alex it was traditional but personal and i couldnt help but tear up as my heels sank slowly into the grass.
next up? party time.
even a flood could not stop the les/gay wedding from blowing the lid off the adorable apple orchard farm.
details, unfortunatly, are fuzzy. but i recall pinatas, cheese cake- meaning a cake of cheese, wax lips, craig cox, becky nelson, barn, dancing the horah and somehow i made it home alive... i think mainly this is because my dad was sitting in his car making sure becky and i did not get kidnapped, murdered or kicked by goats.
good man.

we missed brunch because my kids were absolutely insane the next morning. AND we had to check out by 10 AND we had to get to the city... plus im pretty sure i had a touch of what the french call "that really great feeling of blurriness that comes the day after you have a great time in a barn"

are you ready for some football?

when i turned 30 i decided to set some goals for myself.

1. brew my own beer
1.a) become the sort of beer snob who says things like "personally, i like my brew more hoppy with a chocolate finish" and then one of my beer friends will say, "i prefer a nice summer ale with lemony undertones." and i'll reply, "how dare you!" and i will slap that person's face and storm out.

2. become a fan of a sport

these are just two of many. but this is where ive set my sights for now.

item 2 is more likely to be accomplished quickly and, obviously, step one of goal two is deciding on a sport to learn to like.

i considered something borderline obscure like soccer, rugby, or competitive eating. in the end i decided im no hipster. i want to be sincere. and i realized that part of this goal of becoming a fan included the shared experience of watching a game with other humans. i want high fives to be involved. so many high fives. and in the end it became clear that if i were a fan of rugby, i would likely end up spending time with dudes who have ironic mustaches, wear white belts, and would consider a high five too cliche.

something traditional then.
baseball, i thought. they have the best movies about their sport. the hats are good, i like the pants. and, i used to "play" softball in a real life league. i did. no, seriously. league rules stated that you had to have at least 4 girls to a team or you had to forfeit. the rules also included a clause that two of those girls must play infield positions... and thats the story of how i became catcher for the Mail Boxes Etc. softball team. the reality of this is that we held "mandatory meetings" at a bar before each game, which did not improve my skill or grace one bit. and one time i got hit by a pitch so hard i thought my wrist was broken. my mistake on that occasion, they told me, was that i tried to hit the ball instead of dodging it the way i usually would.
we didnt win alot of games.

i was 90% sold on baseball and ready to get started figuring out which of my cable channels is ESPN when dorian threw a wrench into the whole thing. i think he figured i was all talk until he realized that he was soon about to be subjected to watching baseball games frequently and would probably, at some point, have to take me to chase field (which is where they do the baseballing, as i understand it)
he cast his vote for the sport of football. actually, i think what he said was, "if youre going to make me watch sports it better be football because baseball is boring and dumb."
i put it to the facebook test and... football it is.
i like it when other people make my choices for me.

so. a fan of football i soon shall be. i figure there will be ample high fiving and im pretty excited to get one of those jerseys that football fans wear, its going to hide the baby weight really really well.

the thing im wrestling with now is the fact that i cant go buy myself a jersey until i pick a team to support.

last night on earth

i was planning on being conservative, responsable. reasonable, even.
i knew that i would probably miss the fall leg of the 21st century breakdown tour... the red pants leg of the tour... the cigarettes and valentines leg of the tour...
i know what youre thinking- if you saw the first part of the tour why worry about it? or maybe youre thinking- if you 've seen them more than 20 times why worry about it? well. because. those times he wasnt wearing RED pants. what if everything is different now and i miss it and history remembers the best green day shows ever were the red pants shows... and those are the ones that i missed...??

still, red pants or no red pants, i made my peace with missing the show because i had a good enough reason... birthing a baby is probably one of very few things that would keep me away from a green day concert.

if one is not permitted to vacuum for 6 weeks after having a baby, i think going to the rock show is definitely out.
fair enough. i would miss this one. it was the responsable, reasonable, conservative choice.

turns out, im not responsable, reasonable or conservative. and missing a green day show is not something we lenzes do.

i was feeling the itch a few days before, when my sisters and friends would post things on facebook like "five days to the green day concert, so excited, LOL" and i would have to counter with my own status update "just got pooped on, isnt life prescious. LOL"

still, resolved to be responsable, reasonable and conservative and sit home with my pre-schooler and my newborn and my husband and all my tivoed episodes of 'big bang theory' to keep me from clawing the walls.

then, 10am on monday morning (day of the show) my sister sends over a text that xander, my 6 year old nephew, may not want to go to the concert and that jason, her husband and avid fan of the band Tool, would also probably not go and did we want her extra tickets if they cancelled?

suddenly possibility was alive. suddenly being reasonable, responsable and conservative seemed overwhelmingly stupid and my primary concern became 'how quickly can my mom get here to babysit rocket and zoe?'

of course, sarah (my sister) is at least 50% cold-hearted bitch. because there turned out to only be, say, a 25% chance that xander would not go and we would get to...
however, lest i seem ungrateful (or somehow incur sarah's wrath) just to offer us the tickets, just in case, just on the 25% chance we could use them, was incredibly generous- dont get me wrong- sarah is at least 50% wonderful, kind-hearted and pure.
but she did put us in a situation where we now had to sit and wait for the whim of a first grader to determine whether or not we could go see our favorite band and the man of my dreams in his red pants.

waiting is not something im good at.
but moving forward relentlessly once set in motion is an area at which i excell.
i knew months ago that i would not be going to this show, but now possibility had been introduced. all that reasonable, responsable crap went right out the window and now i had a willing and eager babysitter all set up and all i needed was the means to attend... the tickets.
sarah had given us the potential for tickets, i needed a guarantee.

enter the idiot club.
you may remember that last fall when we saw green day at america west arena we had terrible seats and i found out too late that i could have won floor access tickets from the idiot club if i had only checked my email that day.
well, i learned my lesson. and now that i was fanning the fire of possibility and burning the slaughtered remains of reason and responsability, i was also refreshing my email inbox constantly looking for word from the green day fan club that i have been a paying, card carrying member of for at least 6 years.

and it arrived.
a trivia contest for tickets to the show. and i knew all the answers except one, which i found the answer to easily on the idiot club news page... which i also refresh constantly.

so now, here we were sitting, waiting and wondering if we would either hear back from a sister or win a contest. should we put on pants for the first time in two weeks, or stay comfortable in our 'never leave the house' attire (the uniform of new parents)?
we waited. one leg in a pair of real pants, ready to be seen by other humans, and one leg in a pair of pj pants, ready to expand at the waist and be comfortable. one hand on the breast pump, ready to supply provisions for a temporary substitute mommy, and one hand on the remote control, ready to que up endless hours of sitcoms to pass the long living room hours. one eye on the phone, waiting for a text from sarah, one eye on the computer looking for an email from the idiot club... it was like green day twister.

then the inevitable happened, xander decided he DID want to go to the concert (which ended up being a good choice for him) and then the impossible happened, i won tickets from the fan club.

we stepped into non-pijamma clothes, fired up the pump and got ready to rock... red pants here we come....

to be continued with the story of how it ended up being the second best green day show of all time...
k.

so if you dare to second guess, you can rest
assured that all my love is for you.

ouch. my eye.

no stranger to humiliating injury, minor emergency and small scale disaster- today i suffered an eye injury.

i got shampoo in my eye.
no, not a little lather run-off easily wiped away.
i got an entire squirt of shampoo in my eye. not the pea-size recomended dosage either, a good handfull of suave professionals. in my eye.

dont ask how it happened. i dont know.
i can tell you without hesitation that being 8 months pregnant and carrying 35 extra pounds has done nothing to make me MORE graceful or demure.

i dont know how i managed to get a fistfull of shampoo right into my eyeball, but now- looking back- im a little surprised it hadnt happened before now.

it burns. undiluted shampoo in your eye hurts like a mothereffingsonofamotherlessgoat. its the worst. i actually screamed.
and when the shower water didnt have the pressure or concentration to wash the offending gel out of my eye socket, i had to hop- screaming- out of the shower and rush to the bathroom sink.

a little back story.

a. the sink height in our new bathroom falls precisely at my belly's widest point. its a challenge to get close enough to wash my hands, let alone get my entire face under the faucet.

b. we recently installed a water saving device on the sink that has to be triggered constantly to make water flow. you cant just turn on the faucet and get a steady stream of water, you have to now turn on the faucet and constantly engage the device to get any water at all. tough to do when youre half blind, screaming in pain and can barely reach in the first place... this is my reward for going green.

so. i have to abandon that bathroom sink and run screaming for the hall bathroom sink. soaking wet. on concrete floors. still not graceful. still with the non-existant center of gravity and suddenly half blind and in obscene pain.
at this point i started to cry.
aparently, human tears activate the fire chemicals in shampoo. i was now in MORE blinding pain... making me double blind.

i was able to flip that faucet on and get a nice, healthy, earth-killing stream of constant, steady water to rinse the bulk of suave out of my eye... but that did nothing to stop the pain. i rinsed and rinsed and rinsed and cried and stood at the sink dripping and screaming and wishing i had a free hand to call poison control.

at this point dorian woke up and offered me one of zoes sippy cups to hold against my eye as a rinsing device... also did not stop the pain.

eventually i was able to wash enough suave out of my eye that it only felt like i had just been burned in the eye by a red hot poker and not that i was currently being burned in the eye by a red hot poker.

my eye continued to burn and throb for the rest of the day and i kept rinsing it out to little effect.
in fact, around 2pm i started wiping bubbles and soap chunks out of the corners of my poisoned eye.

the good news is, it feels better now. and its never been silkier.

k.

but now it's gone and I take the blame
and there's nothing I can do but take the pain.

Up and Atom!

its not like i had any pressing social engagements or lavish events i was blowing off to spend the whole day at home waiting on various service people. quite the contrary. in fact, i still have PLEANTY of unpacking to do. At least 40% of Phase One Move is yet to be unboxed. So there was lots of slow puttering and back and fourth waddling and struggling to get my arms around things to do while i waited around for the Quest phone & internet guy and the Direct TV tv guy.
so there was no trouble. plus, at the end of the day, i would have my beloved internets back as well as cable television with DVR, which i had been missing for more than a year.

i did learn a lesson... that (thanks to HULU and large screen computer monitors) it is POSSIBLE to live without cable TV and a DVR... but not with a newborn baby. im not waking up at 4am and shuffling through HULU looking for something to keep me entertained as i operate as a human lunch box. not to mention that i will most likely be taking to bed at 6pm to facilitate such midnight snackery, and if i can record my stories and catch up in my wee hour walkabouts, i dont have to hate everyone on earth. so there. direct TV justified.

happily, direct TV was on the scene first. and only 1.5 hours into their 4 hour window! what luck! but the guy turned out to be a complainer and so i had to move the TV to a different wall. to be fair, i didnt move it myself. but i did have to stand there blinking at the guy for at least a good minute wondering how to explain that i would NOT be moving the TV and entertanment center myself... youd think 30 punds of baby sticking directly out ones front would be a subtle indication of ones incapacity to move large objects with success. oh well.

the Quest guy got here at the bitter end of his 4 hour window, but he set everything up swiftly and without hassling me to move any large pieces of furniture or electronics.

Then everybody left and i sat down with the food network on ready to bask in the warm glowing warm glow of internet access... only to find it didnt work.
the Quest guy was literally five minutes gone, which just happened to make it past 5pm, and the internet was NOT WORKING. at all. not sending information. not receiving information, just an infuriating spinning wheel telling me that it was trying, that it would happen eventually, it was coming... just be patient.

but i am not patient.

oh, and, by the way, i JUST got my van back from the 'shop.' tranny the vanny (i call her tranny because shes a transport, and because shes busted, wore out and has had alot of work done) but she was finally back to me and, theoretically, all in one piece. except for the fact that, the second i got behind the wheel, the AC started blowing hot air in my face. so i made arrangements to bring it back to the 'shop' and, sure enough, it works just fine whenever anyone else drives it. only for me does it try to bake the skin off my face with convection oven-style winds. i explain that 50% of the reason i turned her into the shop in the first place was because the AC only worked intermittently and, even still, i had to occasionally bang on the dash with a book to make it come on at all... i explain this and expect it to be a clear indication that something is amiss, and then its everyone elses turn to blink at me and insist that its working just fine.

all of which leads me to believe that i am somehow radio active and therefore magically cause things not to work.

BTW, dorian walked in the door this evening and the internet worked just fine... which of course made him question what i was complaining about when i called him from our newly installed home phone (did i mention my cell phone wasnt working all day?) and told him the internet was stupid and didnt work. so. cheers. guess we can all assume which piece of the puzzle here is REALLY stupid and doesnt work.

in completely unrelated news, i am now the owner of a tazer.

see you soon.

k.
shes an endless war, shes a hero for the lost cause
like a hurricane in the heart of the devastation
shes a natural disaster, the last of the american girls.

30 seconds to glory

so, the deal is you make a 30 second video and maybe get to go to NY to see American Idiot on broadway AND go to the opening night after party... surely something worth winning.

after alot of debate over what can and would be effective in 30 seconds or less, we settled on this:


there is some competition, though.
this one is cute

most are just people stating their case and arent even offering anything eternal or personally scarring like, say, their second born child...
i.e.

although... if someone had to win besides me (and NO ONE DOES, since they are picking two winners) i would have to reccomend this girl

i mean, that really demonstrates commitment. although, you could cover that up with a nice tattoo of a bird or a butterfly or a giant naked mermaid... it takes a special kind of person to offer up the life-long name of their only son.

just my opinion.
pick me! we will even throw in an extra, size of a cantelope person!

k.

looking back what i have done there's lots more life to live
at times when i feel overwhelmed i question what i can give
but i don't let it get me down or cause me too much sorrow
there's no doubt about who i am i always have tomorrow