Tiny Dancer

Every Monday since the fall, Little Miss has joined the girls at Dare County Parks & Rec for dance practice. They have tapped and ballet'd and plea- um, well- you get the idea. Since the first day of practice this year, Little Miss has asked when- oh, when- will her dance recital be?! How much longer?

She was ready to jump up on the stage and dance her toes off. Stage fright? Pah-lease. 

Last year, her Bub stayed in the backstage area with her- but this year, Little Miss hung out with her girls and the backstage-mom all by herself. (This may not seem like a lot- but these little girls, with the help of the backstage mama/saint, have to change into a whole new outfit...and quickly.)

After lots of kisses were exchanged, I made my way out to the auditorium to find a seat. (Okay, I cried a little too.)

Raindrops are falling on my head!!

My little ballerina!

Next year, Little Miss has decided she'd like to learn some hiphop dance routines. She's ready for her official b-girl status. Yo yo yo...whaaad uuuup ;-)

A ZOO of a Post!

As I mentioned in the mini post...we went to the zoo last week with Little Miss's preschool class. This is the first year we've been able to join in on the big, end-of-the-year trip and I we were so excited!!

We've visited zoos all over the country- and I have to say...the Norfolk Zoo is incredible. Each exhibit is so well cared for- the animals all seem happy and content. It was such a pleasure to spend the day there! (Seriously, the Bronx Zoo could take some serious pointers.)

Little Miss & some of her favorite people.

Our animal friends...you know I had a hard time not busting these guys out of their cages. Next time, I'm bringing wire-cutters in the camera bag. I couldn't help but feel sad for these animals- as happy and content as they seemed, they're in cages. This is not how they're supposed to be living. As much as I enjoyed being able to see them up close and show Little Miss up close- it broke my heart for them.

Papa Orangoutang...hiding his sweet face.

On our way out, we had to stop and have a Tyra moment. Little Miss loves America's Next Top Model. This was totally unprompted...and she did these poses herself.

We were so excited for Bub to join us on our trip! The plan was- zoo, grab lunch quick, pick up hay and rush back to get Little Miss to dance rehearsal on time. Sounds totally do-able right? Mmhmm.

We leave the zoo with plenty of time to grab lunch and the hay, as planned. We arrive at the hay spot- get the hay loaded when the lil feller who loads the hay says..."Oh, can I put these last three on the top if I tie them?" 

Let me paint the picture for you- there are two layers of hay in the back of my truck already, so these three bales will be teetering on the top, slightly above the cab of the truck. Picture painted? Alrighty.

Seeing as there was a chance of rain, I suggested we tie the bales together and add a tarp into the mix. (Because surely if we tarp it, it's definitely not going to rain!) Homeboy starts telling me about his super cool beach house he (ahem, his parents b/c he's all of 17) owns near me...and how he just came down last weekend to mow the yard...etc, etc. This is when I begin to get concerned because there needed to be less talking and more securing the mother-loving hay. (Note to self: stop picking up hay alone. Teach husband how to speak cowboy & make him deal with hay people.)

We barely get out of the long, winding drive of the hay spot before the tarp flies off. Seriously, my truck looked like it was skydiving...that tarp took flight, parachute style. I rip the tarp off...tell Little Miss to cover her ears & hoist myself up onto the top layer of the hay to make sure the three bales I was assured were tied together, were indeed tied together. There weren't. Sweet! I tie the two (70lb) outer bales together- because surely if the outer two are tied together they'll all stay up there, right? 

We made it about half way home and are cruising along at 55mph on a straight away when the two bales that were tied together took flight. Thankfully there was no one behind us. Did I mention it was a little windy? Like blowing 25-30? 

I see where the bales landed and decide that it's too dangerous for me to stop in the middle of four lanes of traffic to move them. (One made it to the side of the road, the other was closer to the center lane...but it's a freaking bale of hay- how can you miss it?!)

Then I see blue lights...for the love of worms and dirt, seriously!?!? Now we're definitely going to be late to dance. (*#^%(*@&(%&*!!!

I scramble for my license and registration.

"Hi ma'am, did you lose some hay?" the officer asks.

"Hi sir! Um...did I?!?" (I know...totally playing up the sweet, stupid, southern blonde. Big smile, big accent.)

"Well, I think it might've been you? If you want to pick them up, I will stop traffic for you. Otherwise, you can just be on your way. No harm done."

"Oh...okay, well if I won't get in trouble for not going back- I'm going to head on home," I explain and tell him my daughter has dance to get to.

Off we go, again.

Not five minutes later a red truck driven by an asshole who I'm sure was from Maryland, motions for me to roll my window down.

"You lost some hay back there...and you caused a huge accident!! There are ambulances and fire trucks!" he says in his most 'tough guy' voice.

My blood boils. I know this is a total lie b/c I'd just talked to the State Trooper. 

I took my one hand off the wheel and did my very best to put my finger in his face- which was difficult to do seeing as he was in his car and I was in mine...but it needed to be done.

"NUH UH sir...that's a TOTAL lie. I just spoke to the state trooper and there was NO accident and NO one got hurt." (I was so upset Little Miss didn't have her headphones on or he wouldn't gotten a MUCH more involved response.)

He rolled his window up immediately. Apparently my hay was covering up my "I don't take shit from anyone" bumper sticker. Who does that!? Who makes up a total lie just to scare the shit out of someone...a total stranger at that? My mom, who was in the passenger seat, didn't say a word. Asshole-from-Maryland is so very lucky she was riding shotgun and not my husband.

So that was the end to the day. Little Miss made it to dance a little late- but she made it. And the rest of the hay made it home safe.

All Sorts of Crazy

Tis the season...for what? You might ask. Well apparently, tis the season for hysterical meltdowns, that's what. I'm going to tell you a little story about the day I made just about anyone and everyone I encountered super uncomfortable.

It's May- which is the end of Little Miss's career as a preschooler. It seems like just yesterday I made the phone call to get her enrolled just after her 3rd birthday. On this particular morning, I was shooting her preschool's graduation photos...with...their...caps and gowns. (Is anyone else already tearing up? Just me?) I handled it relatively well until I saw my little preschooler in her cap and gown. Her entire school career flashed before my eyes and I saw her walking across the stage at Waterside Theater- just as I did when I graduated high school. (It didn't help that we were shooting the photos right next to Waterside Theater. Brilliant idea, photographer.) I put my sunglasses on and managed to keep it together enough that I don't think anyone realized I was totally losing my shit. After individual pictures, the class went back to school to get ready for the big group shot and I ran up to the barn to give Broadway his breakfast.

We all know what an animal fruit loop I am, right? It's been discussed? I have a lot of animals and treat them all like they're less furry and have two legs? Yea, that's pretty much it.

Broadway has been moving considerably better since he got his Christian Louboutin's on his feet. (That's what I call his fancy heart bar shoes.) I was thrilled to see his progress- he was no longer just standing out in the pasture, he was on the move! However, on this particular morning he wasn't his new-self...he was back to his old, 'I'm hurting, Fix it for me' self. He was propping his leg out and practically pointing to his hoof. I know this may seem expected- and I should've expected it. Broadway went from practically lame to "healed" in a matter of days. Why wouldn't I expect a setback or two? Because I don't want setbacks- I don't want it to take weeks- I want him fixed NOW. He's been through so very much- from weight issues to an issue that only geldings can suffer from that I won't go into details with on my blog, to arthritis issues, to hoof issues...and now more? Seriously, how much more can we go through? 

I sat down in the dirt and cried. I cried because I couldn't fix him. I cried because of all he's been through. I cried because I was terrified that this was it. This was going to be the one thing I couldn't fix...and I was going to lose him. Yes, I went there. A leg prop and sad eyes took me to that place. I was certain this was the end.

I pulled myself together and headed off to do the preschool group photo. I couldn't tell anyone why my makeup was smudged all over my face- I could't find the words to say it out loud. The only thing I could manage to find were tears. 

In between the group photo and pickup time, I read my friend Laura's blog. Escaping into someone else's world was just what the doctor ordered. I read this post and laughed so hard it dried my tears. (Thank you, Laura for spraying your husband in the mouth with a water hose.)

I thought I was starting to feel okay. I'd left a message with the vet and the tech I spoke with felt like Broadway was having a normal setback and everything was probably fine. (But she thought I needed to be on medication- because you know, I cried when I told her what was happening with him.) I "cowgirl'd up" and went inside to get Little Miss....totally avoiding eye contact with everyone and managed to make it back to the car without crying. Sweet.

Then the phone rang. It was one of my favorite people- another mom of a graduating preschooler, an awesome friend...who thought I was mad at her.

I instantly broke out into hysterically crying...which, I'm sure, made it nearly impossible for her to understand me. But bless her heart- she listened to me, told me I wasn't crazy and comforted me by saying she knew everything would be okay. I believed her, it was going to be okay.

Little Miss and I picked up my daddy for lunch and ran into another sweet friend of ours...who is a pool genius and is turning our "pond" in our backyard back into a pool. (Seriously, she's amazing. It was so gross even snakes were disgusted by it.) She is an animal person like myself...obviously she is b/c she braves the dobermans in the backyard to reach the pool the snakes are afraid of. I left her to work her magic and told her I have my phone if she needs me.

Except Little Miss was playing a game on said phone and shut the sound off...so I didn't hear her call when she called to say the dogs (2 of the 3) had gotten out...of the backyard...that they never leave.

Holy hell. I screamed at a waiter "I NEED MY CHECK!" like a mad woman. All I could picture was Sassy and Calvin (Zorro was in the house) as road kill. They are protective, they are wonderful guard dogs...but street smart? Pahaha, no. Cars? They're fun things to dart in front of, right?! I was trying my hardest to not freak the hell out because 1) I was in a restaurant with my father and daughter and 2) I was with my daughter...who adores these dogs and 3) Let's face it, Little Miss is her mother's child- she was already thinking the worst.

I ran to the car, dragging Little Miss and took off. The restaurant happened to be less than a minute away from my house but it seemed like forever. I prayed I would round the corner and see them waiting for me- but no. I grabbed Zorro & set out running screaming (and crying at this point) "SASSY!! CALVIN!! COME HOME, BABIES!" (This would be the moment all of my neighbors confirmed that I was all sorts of crazy.) The mail lady happened to be delivering our mail and told me she thought my dogs were at the elementary school...probably terrifying children by their vicious licks. I started running towards the school and when I rounded the corner...what did I see? Two little dobies, running wide open (but so close together they looked like they were attached) tongues waggin', legs all over the place. I was so thrilled to see them that at first I wasn't mad at all. Shortly after their return, I found out they not only went to the elementary school- but also to a lawyers office on the main road....then I grounded them. Our pool whisperer was such a help- she drove all over town looking for them. Only a true animal person would do that...she was just as worried as I was.

So now that my day from hell is over...I can laugh at myself a little. It wasn't until today that I was able to do that though. The vet called me from a neighboring town this morning- he had to come down here for an emergency and wanted to see if I'd like to have Broadway checked out. Um, yes, please. Turns out- he had an abscess in his hoof that was trying its best to make its way out- but the Christina Louboutin's were putting a stop to it. Once the vet removed his shoe on the "bad" leg- the abscess burst and he instantly felt much better.

And so did I. 

The Big K

Today was a big day in the B house. Kindergarten registration.

As we walked through the halls of the school I attended as a wee-one, my heart climbed right up to my throat. The school has been totally remodeled- all except for the library, which is ironically where we had to register. So many memories flooded my brain as we entered the room that seemed so enormous when I was a student there. Little Miss was too excited to notice what I was doing. She soaked in the paintings on the wall, the teachers outfits, the books....oh, the books! Little Miss loves to read- and I'm not trying to brag but...okay, I am. She can read- like for reals read, ya'll. So she was pretty fascinated by the walls of books that surrounded us.

I filled out the paperwork (that apparently I could've done before we got there, whoops) and one of the kindergarten teachers asked Little Miss a few questions. Colors, shapes, letters, numbers- the normal stuff. Then the teacher asked her to turn the paper over and draw a picture or maybe write her name- whatever she was comfortable doing. Little Miss broke out all the crayons and homegirl drew a masterpiece. The teacher chuckled. When she was finished, she asked me how to spell the teacher's name. The teacher looked at me puzzled like, "She can't spell her own name? Really, you just said the kid can read?!" She peeped over the table to find "To: Mrs. ____ From: Riya" already written.

"She's so ready. She'll do wonderful- you don't have to worry about a thing."

Should I have warned the teachers that Little Miss thinks she'll be teaching kindergarten with them? Nah, we'll save that for the first day.

Tough Topic

This post will not give you the warm fuzzies. In fact, it may make you sick to your stomach.

Two words to test you to see if you can handle reading forward- horse slaughter. 

In 2007, the last active horse slaughterhouse in the US was shut down. Today, horses are transported to Canada and Mexico, crammed inside low-ceilinged trucks with no food or even a sip of water- to be slaughtered. Late last year, Congress restored funding for U.S. inspectors to oversee horse slaughter, making it legal once again for horses to be slaughtered in the U.S. Many "horse people" are all for this, shockingly, stating that 'at least the US can regulate the slaughter' and go on about how many unwanted horses there are.

When I was 10 years old, my family and I adopted a horse named Brandy. He had been abused in every way possible. He was hundreds of pounds underweight and terrified of almost everything and everyone. Everything was an enemy to him. Prior to meeting us, he'd been rescued by another horse-lover who knew he would never survive. Brandy changed my life.

Last year, my life was changed yet again. I walked into a horse barn full of gorgeous horses and saw one tall, sad boy with a blanket on. He was the one I'd driven hours to see. He was walked out into the aisle way- and when his blanket came off, my heart sunk. I could count every rib and place my head into his hip. He was terribly skinny- terribly helpless...I knew he had to come home with me. A little over a year later, he's "as healthy as a horse." Where would he be if there was a horse slaughterhouse nearby? I never would've found him. 

Let me ask you this- where do you draw the line? If horse slaughter is legal, when are the lines for the horses that are abused at their homes? The horses who are abused long before they reach the slaughter? Will these owners be fined or paid for turning in their horses for slaughter? How many people even know what slaughter really entails?! Do you? If you don't and you are squeamish, I encourage you to skip this part. I'm not squeamish at all- and when I say at all...I mean nothing makes me sick. Researching horse slaughter this last day or so- watching the videos, reading the articles, seeing the photos...even I couldn't handle it.

The following video cannot be embedded due to it's content. Click here link to find out the real deal on horse slaughter. (This video is from a slaughterhouse in Mexico.)

These horses are repeatedly bludgeoned with a "dead-bolt" gun- this gun drives a spike into their skull, rendering some, not all unconscious. (Keep in mind, the operators of the guns are not trained.) Many horses are strung up by their hind leg while squealing for their lives- just before their throats are slit and they're left to bleed to death. They're then dismembered and their meat is sent off for human consumption in foreign countries such as France and Japan.

I recently read that the North Carolina Horse Council supports horse slaughter. At this point, I wasn't surprised- as many horse people have argued the "pros" of horse slaughter with me recently. I've argued my point over on the NCHC Facebook page- mostly to have irrelevant questions tossed my way.


One said:
"How would you like YOUR horse to die if it had a broken leg right now? Poison it with lethal injection solution so that the meat is unusable and put it in a hole to rot?"
Like I said, mostly irrelevant. However, if my horse had a broken leg, I would call a vet. I wouldn't transport him to a slaughterhouse. Furthermore- my horses are my family. Not to sound like the crazy horse lady, but they are! Yes, I would poison my horse to guarantee he would be out of pain, kiss him goodbye and bury him in his pasture. I would not eat him, Hannibal Lecter.


Another said:
"PETA even supports it! It's in Horse & Rider!"
Is it? Interesting. Every article I've read regarding PETA and horse slaughter states they are against horse slaughter. However, they did state (supposedly, this wasn't a quote from their website) that they would be in more support of horse slaughter in the US, than transporting horses to Canada and Mexico. I can see how a journalist could chop that quote right up to fit a "Pro-Slaughter" article. (Remember, I majored it journalism...I'm part scumbag!)


Another said:
"This will stop overcrowding! Maybe it will slow down backyard breeding!"
Someone needs to smack the shit out of you. 


This issue clearly bothers me. It hits me where it really hurts. I'm a tenderhearted animal lover- but for reals, ya'll- I will turn into a raging, lunatic, psycho bitch over this. Please sign the American Horse Slaughter Prevention Act of 2011  and encourage your friends, family and neighbors to do the same.