Fowler Power

Coastess With the Mostess

We took our little Oregon Coast vacation again.  I was pregnant again.  And we had a great time again!  We figured out vacationing for our current life-stage:  If we want to relax, we need a house.  Someday we will camp and stay in hotels, but right now we need an entire house.  So we rented a little guy on the ocean in Lincoln City, OR.  The view was amazing, and every morning we drank coffee and watched for grey whales spouting offshore.  Which they did A LOT!  That was fun.  BUT.  I am 100% sure that every time I looked at my phone or went to the bathroom or got a coffee refill, they all jumped up and did flips purposely to spite me.  They are so like that.  Here is the view one morning on which God was particularly pleased with me:

Ben and Gus keeping watch

We also enjoyed beach combing at low tide.  There is some STUFF under there, you guys!

We did a lot of relaxing since we were in a house and all.

That’s not a stripper pole, wise guys.  Just the boring old hinge in the mirrored closet door.

And some stretches.  ALWAYS remember to do your stretches, people!

And more relaxing.

A serious highlight was our trip to the aquarium in Newport.  For some reason Harvey LOVED EVERYTHING there so much, which made it super fun for us.  I mean, he was even delighted with the school buses in the parking lot.

My favorite thing there? The anchovies.  I know, gross.  But NOT GROSS!  SO SILVERY and magical.  What a pleasant surprise.  Not pictured.  Google it.

Let’s talk about Rainbow.  I think this dog was made for the beach.  She had the best time on runs with Ben, running around me while I walked slowly, trying to eat starfish, etc.

Ben said the caption to this one should be something about how there is only one set of footprints in the sand.  Because Rainbow was walking alone.  Because dogs have no souls.  I couldn’t make it as funny as he said it, so I didn’t try.  BUT.  I did have a babysitter when I was very young tell me that my dog would indeed NOT go to heaven when she died.  I can assure you my dog had at least twenty times more soul than her.  

Harv and I scoured the beach for shells one morning.  He was very indiscriminate about which ones went into the bucket.  I personally wouldn’t have chosen probably 80% of them.  There were lots of really big, crusty mussel shells covered with gnarly barnacles, and then lots of little pieces of broken shells.  I prefer the smaller, prettier ones that are in one piece.  But his giant, full bucket made it eight hours back with us, nonetheless.  And I sort of admire him for it.

Taking a break on some driftwood for this pregnant lady.

We went on a beautiful hike one afternoon.  So rainforesty right now!

A deery

Can’t forget some bathtub shots.  Well, there was no bathtub.  So we washed those dirties in a bucket.  They didn’t care for it at first, so we had to use props such as bubbles and glow sticks.  Always carry props.  Sure, your kids will come to expect them whenever they find themselves in slightly unsatisfactory conditions.  So, like I said, always have props.

On our last night, I took a walk on the beach by myself.  It looked like this:

And then today I took the kids to Target and before we left we had been involved in bloodshed and a giant spill, not related to each other.  Probably just in case I forgot that vacation is over.  But I got a nice, soft skirt with an elastic waist a lot of spandex, since I can’t wear pants anymore.  

Tomorrow

Our big ultrasound is finally almost here!  I am more excited this time than ever.  So is Ben.  I guess this will be sort of a defining moment for our family, because this next member is most likely the last.  Who are the Fowlers going to be?  I can hardly stand it.  More people have been interested this time around in hearing whether I have a gender preference, presumably because we already have two of one kind.  And I am mostly writing this post to sort out my own thoughts.

DISCLAIMER: I have made some generalizations here regarding little kids and gender.  Readers, be aware that I understand all children are incredibly unique and often do not fit into what the majority of our culture would expect from an individual of her/his biological gender.  I do this for the sake of stating my feelings simply, but know that I strongly believe in equality and acceptance of all people and would be THRILLED to witness any of my children defying gender stereotypes.  Thank you very much.  Onward. 

First, I found out a few years ago that I LOVE LITTLE BOYS.** I had two sisters growing up, so little boys are still new and exciting.  And I just adore them.  And I really enjoyed having all-girl siblings.  It kind of makes you feel like some kind of force.  And let’s face it, I kind of like being a force.  I like thinking about being able to say things like, “the boys are in the backyard,” and “I’ll pick the boys up from school,” and stuff like that.  I guess I’m sort of a diva, and divas like being the only girl.  And I’m not going to lie, I’m pretty good at it.  And you know how sometimes a woman feels this “need” to raise a little girl or a man reeeeeeally wants to have a boy to play sports games with or whatever?  I don’t feel that.  I think it probably can be perfectly healthy to want that, but I just don’t have that need.  

And having a girl.  Well, you know that exhilarating feeling I had from having boys when I grew up with only girls?  Now I would get that from having a girl.  And that is FRIGHTENING.  But in a fun way.  Like watching “Pet Cemetery.”  Here is a dumb reason it would be fun to have a girl:  I want to SEE a Fowler girl.  What would she look like?    Here is maybe a slightly sinister reason for kind of NOT wanting a girl:  I am one, and that makes me feel like I know how it is to be one. BUT. I only know how it is to be THIS one.  But I forget that.  And I think I could seriously overanalyze every parenting move with a girl based on that feeling.  You know, vicariously trying to correct my own flaws in her and just being more anxious about how she “turns out” and weird stuff like that.  I have found it easier with my temperament to NOT know stuff and just kind of go with it.  Lastly, we have about a zillion girl names we like and about ZERO for a boy.  What the heck?  If you know of an awesome boy name that you aren’t reserving for yourself, please let me know.  No joke.  

Well, thanks for being my outlet.  I think I’m ready.  Stay tuned.

**Generalization.  See “DISCLAIMER” for this sort of thing.  Some little boys are just terrible.

Whoops

Currently in my uterus:

And no, it’s not a Martian.  It’s a person.  Another person.  If you think you may have spotted me recently lugging around a six-month-old—yup, that was me.  We thought it sounded awesome to have a three-year-old, a one-year-old, and a newborn at the same time, so we went for it!  Nope.  It was an accident, of course.  And just so you all know that we are not complete morons, I will mention that it took us a little over a year to have each of the boys.  And a couple is even technically considered infertile after being sexually active without protection for one year.  So there.  We never thought this would happen by accident.  And no, I’m not showing yet.  I’m just still showing.  From the last one.  So please do not try to predict the gender by the way I’m carrying.  

Part 1. BOO!!!

Early pregnancy with a toddler and an infant is pretty stupid.  So tired.  Sooooo, so tired.  And sick.  But TIRED!  And Gus.  Poor little Gus.  His moment to shine will be over almost as soon as it began.  At the teeny age of one, he will be hurled into the role of “misunderstood middle child” and suddenly have the responsibility of being a big brother.  (It’s okay, though, because my friend Darcy told me that for this reason she has decided to make Gus her favorite.  So he will always have Darcy.)  And like I said before, having a newborn along with a three and one-year-old is going to be absolutely INSANE.  Also, the thought came to me the other day as I was changing a dirty diaper that I will be changing diapers for at least four more consecutive years.  WHAT???  Lastly, the due date is July 12th.  So here is a glimpse at our summers:

June 12th: Ben’s birthday

June 16th:  My birthday, our anniversary

June 26th:  Gus’s birthday

July 9th:  Harvey’s birthday

July 12th-ish:  ANOTHER BIRTHDAY.

??!!!?!?!!!!?!??!!?!?!

Part 2. HOORAY!!!   

I’m going to be done being pregnant forever… SOON!!!  That’s right, I think this will do us in for good.  We’d love to have more children someday, but I just don’t want to have more children.  So maybe someday when we get over the shock that is our current life, we will try to adopt.  (I do feel kind of hesitant to make this “no more pregnancy” decision permanent, though.  I don’t know if I’m afraid there will be some kind of catastrophic event after which I am needed to help repopulate the earth or WHAT, but we’ll have to see about that one.)  In any case, I will be so happy to have this part of life behind me and to be able to focus on my BORN family with ALL of my being.  And I am looking forward to more sleep someday!  I keep thinking that things are going to be pretty hard for a few years, but that around 2017 things will start to RULE!  In a little while, having three kids so close in age is really going to be fun.  I am starting to see it as an investment in the future.  And lastly, new babies really are so miraculous and special. And I really am BEYOND excited about adding this new person to our family.

Part 3. Tribute to Gus

Here are some things about Gus, before I run out of time to pay attention to him:

He is just so sweet.  My heart is just bursting with love for him!  His favorite things are smiling, staring at Ben and smiling, watching Harvey, grabbing my hair, partying from 3-4 am, jumping in the Johnny-Jump-Up, and smiling.

We love you so much, Gus Gus! And we will try to never forget when you were the baby!

The Unblog Post

I like reading people’s blogs.  But sometimes I start to feel like all everyone else’s family does is go on beach vacations where it is always exactly sunset and they have hours and hours to cook beautiful, gourmet meals and their kids are always smiling and getting along with each other.  And it does make sense.  It is more natural to want to document the times that seem the most beautiful.  That’s what I mostly do.  So it’s hard to remember sometimes that a person’s “family blog” is probably not a full representation of their family life, and it can be easy to wish your life was more like a blog.  

I think my life is probably pretty average on most accounts.  And I love it!  It is fun and crazy and hard and loud and boring.  And I am only recently learning how great it is to be average.  Maybe it’s an American idea or an evangelical Christian idea or a combination of both to believe that it’s not okay to be average.  For whatever reason I have spent a lot of years believing I had to do something really extraordinary and big with my life in order to have not wasted it.  I am so glad to have learned otherwise.  I am so glad to know that trying my best at all the little average things is significant and beautiful.  I am glad to know that changing diapers and feeding my dog and emptying the dishwasher and taking walks is enough.  I am really glad to know that I can let my kids be average. 

So in the spirit of celebrating averageness everywhere, I decided to document a pretty typical day in the life of Caroline Fowler.

Wednesday, October 5, 2011

First thing in the morning I woke up and went to make a bottle for Gus.  I was greeted at the sink by a dead mouse in the mousetrap we set up the night before, just after that mouse came out of the kitchen and made eye contact with me for a creepy amount of time.  I screamed a little, so Ben came down to take care of it.  He told me later that the mouse was still in the trash can if I wanted to take a picture of it for this post.  Sick.  Then Ben went to work and the rest of us did this for awhile:

I changed everyone’s diapers, which inspired this shot:

I have cloth diapers, and I really did use them for awhile.  And somehow I intend to use them again.  I kept waiting for things to settle down.  Probably time to stop that.

After a little bit, Gus got tired.  Here’s what he did:

So I took him up to his room for a nap.  In his swing.  With the swing turned on.  Yes, for the time being, that is how he sleeps.  Probably not the greatest habit, but Harvey did it too and figured it out after awhile.

He’s moving fast, huh?!

While Gus napped, I started dinner.  At 9 am.  Because that is when I had time.  Harvey found a bicycle horn and honked it for awhile.  It was really loud, so he got “redirected.”  Then he spent a little time doing this:

There was a time in my life where I swore my kids would never watch tv. We do have limits, but we certainly enjoy a little Sprout in the mornings. (Side note to everyone who so proudly doesn’t own a tv:  If you watch tv shows on your computer, your computer is a tv.  You have one.)

When I was finished making dinner, a cop pulled up in front of our house.  (If you’re thinking that this is where the day gets exciting, read on.)  I walked around sort of paranoid for a little bit that I might accidentally start doing something illegal the way you do when you feel like you’re being watched, and after about 45 minutes, the cop left.

Then Harvey and I colored for awhile.  He tasted the crayons sometimes.  

I finally got dressed.  These are the only socks I could find:

When Gus woke up, we needed to return some books to the Library.  By the time Gus was fed and we were all out the door, Harvey had a dirty diaper and Gus was tired again.  But we kept going anyway.  Our library is attached to the mall, and the mall has a great family bathroom where I could change Harvey.  If my double jogging stroller could fit through the bathroom door.  Which, I found out, it cannot.  A man tried to help me, but he could not shrink my stroller or widen the door.  So I shoved the stroller through the normal bathroom door and changed Harv there.  Tired Gus cried.  And proceeded to cry every time the stroller stopped.  So we whizzed to the library and practically did a drive-by return and I was sweating a lot.

I took this picture fast, believe me.

We went home and put Gus back to bed.  Harv had a lunch of microwaved frozen broccoli and chips and salsa because we were low on groceries, and then he went down for nap.  Which never turned into an actual sleeping nap.  Just the playing and shouting and occasionally whining kind.  I tried to relax for a little bit.  The kind of relaxing you do when you’re staring at these:

Yes, two of them.  

I was summoned soon and got to spend some one on one time with this guy:

The rest of the day is sort of blurry, and I didn’t take many photos.  Ben came home when Gus was napping again, so Ben said something like, “Quick, let’s eat before Gus wakes up!”  (A luxury we don’t usually get to experience)  We got our food and sat at the table and at that exact moment Gus woke up.  We laughed in that of-course-that-would-happen-but-we’re-easygoing-so-we’ll-roll-with-it kind of way, since we didn’t know what was coming next which was this:  Harvey was tired from his “nap” and didn’t want to eat any dinner and instead had a series of fits and time outs.  Meanwhile here is what Gus was up to:

So Ben and I managed to shovel some food down our throats without tasting it.  And I decided we’re eating Cliff Bars for dinner for the next five or so years since those of us who care about eating don’t get to enjoy it anyhow.  After that we thought Harvey needed to get out of the house, so I took him to the grocery store with me.  He drove us around and we picked up some staples and got to do things we don’t always get to do when Gus is with us, such as push the buttons on the stuffed animal crane machine for a long time.

When we got home we bathed the kids, sent them to bed, and watched Modern Family.  I think I might have fallen asleep on the couch, but I can’t quite remember.  I got to bed somehow.

Well, there you have it.  A very ordinary day in the lives of a happily average family. I still do love to read about everyone’s magical adventures, and I will continue to post some of ours.  But to my fellow Averages Joe’s, keep on keepin’ on and know that everyone else is probably more average than you think.  Your life is enough!

Two Ways to Have a Baby

There are two ways to have a baby.  

Way #1

Start off by having a lot of experience with kids but not newborn babies.  And then when you are pregnant, forget about how you have barely ever even held a newborn.  Make sure that when you imagine your future child, the child is always at least two years old.  This will ensure that you develop a false sense of security and neglect to mentally prepare.  

Next, make sure that in the third trimester of your pregnancy you develop a rare pregnancy-induced liver disorder.  It will cause your skin to itch insatiably and will pose a threat to your baby.  You will need to go in all the time for non-stress tests and blood work, and you will have to spend the night in the hospital once for a false alarm.  You will need to get an amniocentesis (a big needle stuck through your stomach all the way into your uterus to collect a sample of amniotic fluid) and then have labor induced at 37 weeks.  This will help you lose sleep and stress out.

When your baby finally arrives, don’t forget to consider yourself the head of the Breathing Patrol.  In this role you will want to be staring at your baby at all times of the day and night to make sure that she/he continues to breath.  Convince yourself that if you close your eyes, your baby will certainly stop breathing.  You will not waste any time sleeping this way, and your anxiety will heighten.  With this heightened anxiety you will be even less likely to sleep, even when your baby is sleeping.  And when you continue to lose sleep because of your anxiety, you will become more anxious.  And then lose more sleep.  And then become more anxious.

Regarding feeding:  Be a breastfeeding crusader before you’ve tried it, and even secretly judge people who choose to bottle-feed.  After you’ve done this, have so much trouble breastfeeding your own baby that you actually hate your life and you mostly just cry all the time while your baby sits there being hungry and confused.  For extra help, go see a Lactation Consultant who talks in a baby voice, makes you feel like total crap, and basically tells you it’s not working because “your wrist is bent.”  She will remain nameless.* Next, implement a routine of a.) Attempt to breastfeed b.) Feed your baby using a supplemental feeding system (This means your husband will hold a syringe filled with formula attached to a long tube that you hold onto your nipple so that your baby sucks kind of on the tube and kind of on your nipple and gets formula but is tricked into thinking he got breast milk from you.  Formula will run all over everyone involved.) c.) Pump.  Twenty minutes on each side for a total of about 1/4 ounce.  Doing this sequence of events every two hours should allow for almost no time for anything else.  Then, at your baby’s two-week checkup, he won’t be back up to his birth weight and the doctor will tell you that you need to give him a bottle.  Finally, when you take this advice and begin bottle-feeding, be sure to stress constantly about how your baby isn’t eating as many ounces as the books say he should, even if your baby looks like this:

Lastly, when people offer to help, act really awkward and end up refusing because you don’t even know what to tell them you need help with.  In the meantime, be way too overwhelmed to do anything like cooking, cleaning, brushing your teeth, laundry, grocery shopping, etc.

*Gayle Peterson, 509-474-2400

Way #2

First, already have a kid that you think is awesome and has somehow managed to survive your parenting.  Then, make sure the new baby is the same gender as the first so you don’t even really have to buy anything.  Start and finish new baby’s room the day before you will go into labor.  Don’t contract the rare liver disorder until about five minutes before your contractions begin.  The pain from your contractions will be a great distraction from the itching.  And don’t forget to download a sweet contraction-timing app for your iPhone.  But you already knew that.  Swear out the window on the way to the hospital, and don’t even get there until you are dilated to six centimeters.  Have the anesthesiologist read you the epidural risks after  she administers the epidural to make sure there is time to get it.  You probably remember them from last time, anyway.  Get a delivery room with a view of the city and the mountains, and deliver at dawn.  Duh.  Have your doctor be one of your good friends and have his home phone number in your phone because the nurses don’t have it and can’t reach him.  Have the baby less than two hours after you get to the hospital, and then text your in-laws to buy plane tickets ASAP so they can come right away.  Don’t leave the hospital until they have arrived.

Go home with your new baby, your old baby, and your in-laws.  Make sure your first-born and your father-in-law are best friends so that your first-born doesn’t feel left out and end up resenting his little brother.  Let your in-laws cook, clean, hold the baby, and play with the big brother.  Later in the week, let them do an entire makeover on your backyard.  Go on nature walks and walks to get ice cream and go out to breakfast and to the lake.  When your mother and father-in-law leave, make sure your sister and brother-in-law live in their camper in your driveway for awhile.  They will play with the kids and help with meals and house projects and even watch tv with you.   

On feeding:  Try to breastfeed again.  But when your nipples are bloody and your newborn baby wakes up and vomits a bunch of blood, wish that you had a wet nurse, and then decide to bottle-feed and be fine with it.  Share feedings with your husband.

Take people up on their offers to bring meals and emphasize your need for cocktails.

Quit your job with the Breathing Patrol and stare at your baby instead because you think he’s cute.

Eat dinner outside every once in awhile and forget that the baby is inside alone.

Feel bad for your first kid every now and then that you are enjoying the newborn stage so much more this time.  And then stop because your first kid is turning out just fine. 

Oregon Getaway

We took our Mostly Annual Poor Man’s Vacation last weekend.  That is when you and your family live in Spokane and need to get to the ocean and you drive to the Oregon Coast.  (Don’t be insulted, O.C.  I just love you and am so glad you are a place we can go without a whole lot of $$$)  We loaded up the minivan with camping gear, a sick toddler, and an energetic dog.  Harvey barfed once on the way, but that was NOT going to stop us.  No way.  We just made him wear a bib—the silicone kind with a little trough-thing on the bottom—for most of the way.  And he spent a lot of the car trip sleeping and watching Elmo on Ben’s amazing thrift store find: the portable DVD player. Rainbow spent most of the car trip sitting between Ben and me with her nose resting on Ben’s arm rest.  She was not going to miss out on one second of family togetherness.  

We spent the first three nights in a little cabin at a campground between Seaside and Astoria.  It was just beds, no bathroom or kitchen or anything.  So we cooked over the fire and walked to the bathrooms and cute stuff like that.  I didn’t walk to the bathrooms in the middle of the night, though.  I will just leave it at that.  One more thing: Camping with a toddler is hard work!  Fun, but hard!  At least with our toddler. Maybe some of you have toddlers who enjoy sitting and staring into a late night campfire and being all contemplative and admiring the way the fire makes everyone’s faces glow and all that.  But we got a regular one, so we did a lot of chasing and only a little sitting and very little contemplating.  Well you all care mostly about photos, so here you go! 

Harvey and Rainbow thought they were in heaven every time we went to the beach. Rainbow even caught a crab!  

Running on the beach: Their new favorite thing

Pajamas and shoes, duh

Sea Lions!

Still a little sick and a lot crabby

Before the porch swing crumbled (Harvey is obviously having a some kind of premonition here while I throw caution to the wind and swing my heart out)

Wading

Nights

Well that’s about it.  After the coast we spent one night in Portland.  It was fun, but we took zero photos.  The highlights were sleeping in a really comfortable bed, taking showers, and a nice dinner out.  Then we went home.  Now we are here.  Sorry, this post has happened in about three separate sittings and at this point I just want it to be done so I can go watch tv.  

GREAT trip!!  I woke up the other day wishing we were still there.  Hope to go back soon.

I <3 Boyz

So we are having another boy.  He is due July 8th, which is the day before Harvey’s birthday.  I am really excited because I really like boys.  I really, really like Ben, and I really, really like Harvey.  I like to think about little boys wrestling and running around the yard with the dog with slingshots hanging out of the back pocket of their overalls.  I like how they fall down and get hurt and get right back up and keep playing.  (I know there are girls who do that and boys who don’t do that.  But you get it.) And I like how they get really dirty and don’t even notice.  Yes, it seems right for us to have another boy.  And it seems right to call him Gus.  I should add that Gus is not short for anything.  It’s just short.  He is kicking around right now.  Probably thinking about wrestling his brother.  Let’s talk about his brother for a minute.

We are entering toddlerhood.  That would explain why I registered for a parenting conference this weekend.  Harvey is still a whole lot of fun, but he is getting weirder by the day.  He is ridiculously shy at times.  When a stranger approaches, he throws something.  Anything.  Pacifier, stuffed animal, bowl of crackers, etc.  If he isn’t holding anything, he will find something.  And then he will throw it.  Without breaking eye contact with the stranger.  And by stranger I mean anyone other than his mom or dad.  He doesn’t throw it AT the person.  He just needs to show them that he can throw and he will if he is provoked.  And by provoked I mean spoken to.  Should he warm up to a person, he will want to be held by them at all times and point to places to which he would like to be carried.  I find this behavior both amusing and disturbing and am encouraged to think of him learning to interact and share attention with another small person.  

Toddlerhood has also been a delight.  Harvey is funny, fun, weird, learning so much, eating well, sleeping well, climbing everything, running everywhere, giving lots of hugs, kisses, and fives, and usually loving his new little life.

I would post a picture of Gus, but we all know what an ultrasound looks like.  For now, Harvey has brought me a book he would like us to read together.  A surprising choice, though.  ”Confessions of an Organized Homemaker.”  Guess we’ll give it a try.

Thanks! Thanks!

I really like Thanksgiving.  I might love it.  I’m not talking origins here.  I don’t love people stealing other people’s land and giving them nasty diseases, of course.  Who does?  But the way we celebrate Thanksgiving today seems to have all the great elements of Christmas—without all the hype.  That’s what I love.  Being together, thinking about the things that are good and beautiful in your life, eating good food, etc.  And it hasn’t been built up for months and months.  That’s nice.

Here at the Fowler house, we are thankful for some things this year.  Here they are.

Ben:

His family, our new-to-us 2001 Honda Odyssey (that’s a minivan, if you didn’t know), a good job that he really enjoys, a nice dog, being healthy, the furnace we got new last year, and our house.

Harvey:

Sweets, using forks and spoons, buttons,  his grandmas and grandpas, his dog, dorky kids’ music.

Me:

Zofran (anti-nausea drug widely used for chemo patients and sometimes pregnant women.  I am not a chemo patient…), Harvey and Ben, still having parents around even though I am one, having a house that we can make look however we want and that is warm and comfortable, our little Craigslist hot tub, human beings and that we are living and breathing and make choices and mistakes because we aren’t machines, and holiday crafts (especially ones with glitter).

Also, we just got back from a trip to the Midwest.  Here are some photos of our time with Ben’s family.  We are ALL thankful that we got to see them!

Have a great day, everyone!

A Sad Day

Yesterday morning our bunny, Phyllis, did not wake up.

This was very unexpected and very, very sad.  This post is a tribute to her life.

Phyllis was one of the most amusing animals I have ever known.  When we took her to get spayed, we ended up getting her neutered, because “she” is actually a “he”.  It was ten dollars cheaper, which was great, but I couldn’t start calling her a him.  I just couldn’t do it.  I think she liked it that way.

She used to sit in the window sill of our first apartment and watch for us to come home.  It was the cutest thing we had ever seen.  We hoped our landlady would agree if she ever witnessed this, as we weren’t to have pets.

When she got really excited, she would run fast and make sharp, sudden turns, as if being chased by an invisible predator.  She would also suddenly jump high into the air and twist.  This always looked unplanned and almost accidental.  It was hilarious to watch!

After awhile we thought she needed a bunny friend.  So we adopted Rosemary from a local rabbit rescue.  They hated each other at first—rabbits are extremely territorial.  It took forever to get them to bond.  I didn’t sleep much for what seemed like weeks.  We took them on car rides to “scare” them into bonding and put them in the bathtub together (a neutral location, NOT filled with water!) for hours on end.  And when they bonded, BOY did they bond!  From then on you would rarely see them not snuggling. 

Phyllis loved being let out into the backyard, eating her cilantro, pretending to dig in the floor, chewing baseboards, and snuggling with Rosemary. 

Phyllis, we loved having you as our bunny.  I’m sorry we never got to release you onto the stage at church on Easter Sunday.  You would’ve been a hit!  

We hope you are enjoying hopping around that giant vegetable garden in the sky!  We LOVE you!!