"BJ, I would like to formally extend an offer of employment for the 2007-2008 school year"

After a year of job applications and rejection letters, the unreachable was reached today. BJ got a job at Legacy Christian Academy in Frisco, TX. I think that at the moment, we are both stunned. To be perfectly honest, I'm crying while I write this blog post. I'm so happy for my husband. He has worked so hard the past year at a job he didn't really want to do with people who weren't always nice, and he has done it all for his family. Now, he's going to get to see what it is like to have a career. And he'll get to teach kids about the subject he is most passionate about.

If I have learned one thing since leaving Menard for ACU, it is that there is really no point in trying to predict life. I never expected to marry someone six years older than me (and a Yankee!) at such a young age. I never expected to graduate with a degree in art (and absolutely love it). I never expected to live with two dogs and a cat. And I NEVER expected to move to the Dallas/Ft. Worth area. But God is funny, so oh well.

When I started this blog, I wrote this statement in the "about me" section: "I see BJ and myself as a team traveling on some bazaar journey trying to figure out what God is up to and how we fit into it." At the time, I thought it was a fairly cheesy statement, but one that really captured how I viewed our life. Now, I feel like we've come to a very significant turn in the road, and I'm really excited to see where it takes us.

I got peed on this morning.

This morning, the alarm rang at 6:40, I got a plastic cup, walked out to the yard with Gus, and filled my cup up with Gus's urine. A great way to start the day. Some say it's even better than Wheaties. Unfortunately, in my groggy stupor, my hand wavered, and I got a tad bit on me.

On my way to work, I dropped off the urine sample. I am extremely, extremely happy to announce that the sample came back normal. Gus doesn't have diabetes insipidus. Yay for high gravity indexes (whatever that means).

Besides being told my dog is a healthy (stupid) puppy, my favorite part of the morning was when all the nurses at the vet asked, "Oh! Was it hard to get? Did you have to chase him around all morning?" Apparently, this is what normal dogs do when you try to get a urine sample. But not Gus. Anytime Gus pees, it's about the same: He stands normally and looks strait ahead. When I was retrieving the sample this morning, the only variation to his routine was that he looked up at me with a look that said, "This is strange." Basically, taking a urine sample from Gus is about as difficult as getting a water sample from your sink faucet.

So to sum it all up, it's been an additional $50 later, and the diagnosis remains the same: Gus is an idiot.

Taking a short moment at work to write a cheesy post

I just received a call from BJ. He was walking to the office where he will have yet another job interview, and he was feeling sick with nerves. This time, the interview is a little different from the bagillion other ones we've had in the past year. With every interview, we have prayed and pleaded that he would get the job so we could stay in Abilene and be comfortable. This time, the job isn't in Abilene, and I don't have a clue what I want to happen or what would be best for us. I want BJ to have a job he likes, but neither one of us want to leave Nugent. So while BJ is walking to todays interview, I'm taking a moment to say a prayer I probably should have been saying all along this past year when he was walking to interviews: Your will be done. It just took me a year to figure this one out.

A house divided

Gus and Sienna are not only completely different in appearance,, buy they have entirely opposite personalities as well. And, ironically, their owners are also polar opposites at times, as I was reminded tonight by an incident in our bathroom.

Being at work all day has made me exceptionally clingy with Gus here lately, so when I'm home, Gus and I can usually be found doing the same thing: he'll be laying on his back while I'm rubbing his belly. Embarrassingly, I tend to baby talk to Gus during this process. I know that's stupid, but his cuteness makes it impossible for me to keep the mumbo-jumbo from flowing out of my mouth.

So tonight, Gus and I were sitting on the bathroom rug doing our routine while BJ was brushing his teeth and getting ready for bed. After spitting out his toothpaste, BJ looks down at me and Gus and says, "It is quite possible you are going to drive me crazy when we have kids." He then looks at Sienna and says, "Don't worry Sienna, you don't have to be stupid to be loved," and he started petting her.

At this point, I'm getting slightly irritated because he called my dog dumb (a fitting label, but it stings none the less), so I say, "You're just jealous you don't have this kind of a relationship with you dog."

Sienna, a picture of pure-bred, Labrador elegance, is now lovingly looking up at BJ with her front two paws meekly crossed. BJ says, "We're too elegant for that."

I wanted to retaliate, but I was currently sitting on a bathroom rug rubbing the belly of a giant oaf. And, of course, Gus chose this opportune moment to start rapidly kicking his hind leg (he's ticklish). So me and my mutt remained silently on the bathroom rug while our more elegant counter parts went to more refined places like...I don't know...the living room.

Prayer Requests

I just found out a moment ago that one of our church members at Nugent has been diagnosed with cancer. His name is Richard and his wife is Ada. The cancer appears to be in a film surrounding his brain. I know that his family, both biological and congregational, would appreciate prayers.

Also, on a less urgent note, I found out a few hours after I did my last post that Gus is not out of danger after all. The vet is afraid that he might have an extremely rare disease called diabetes insipidus. I realize he is just a dog, but I really love that mutt. We won't know for about a week and a half if he has this disease.

Diagnosis: Stupidity

Gus has always LOVED water, but this past week his adoration of H2O got a little worrisome when he drank so much two mornings in a row that he threw up. Thursday, BJ booked Gus an appointment to check things out since over-consumption of water can be a sign of diabetes. Unfortunately, BJ had to stay home this morning to wait on our furniture to be delivered, so it was just me and Gus on what turned out to be a very interesting trip to the vet.

When I got there, I of course had to explain to the vet what was wrong: "My dog drinks too much water, so my husband thought I should bring him to the vet, but I think he's just stupid." The vet just kind of laughed and said we would do a blood test and a urine sample. The blood test went smoothly, and it was then time for the urine sample. They sent me out with a Tupperware container to walk Gus around until he peed. We walked around, and Gus eventually went number 2, but as far as pee went, he was as dry as the Sahara. I finally brought him in and said I thought I needed some water for him to drink. The vet brought a bowl of water, laid it by Gus, and left.

Twenty minutes later, the vet returns. Embarrassed, I look up at him and say, "I just brought a dog to you for drinking to much water, but he's refusing to drink any water this morning." That's right, Gus just wanted to lay down and rest. He didn't want water.

The vet showed me the results on Gus's blood test, and he is as healthy as he can be. I'm supposed to drop by some pee later. According to the vet, dogs are much like humans in that they can have strange obsessions with random things. So $150 later, I have now learned that I have a dog who has a strange obsession with water. That's it. That's the problem. My dog is an idiot.

My favorite part of the whole horrific morning was when we walked back to the waiting room. There were a lot of dogs in today sitting in the waiting area. One of the dogs, who according to the nurse had been fine with all of the other dogs, freaked out when he saw Gus because he didn't know what the big black fury thing was. This sent all the dogs into a barking fury, including mine. The nurse started laughing and yelling to the other freaked-out dog, "I promise, Gus is a dog." Apparently, me dog looks more like a monster off of Sesame Street than a dog. Thus ended the my most embarrassing trip to the vet's office.

Entering the mind of a fluffy puppy

What Gus thinks during his nightly brushing session:

"You can brush me all you want, but you will never take my dignity or my tree bark."

What Gus thinks during his monthly picture-posed-with-mom-holding-me-like-a-stuffed-animal:

"I hate being this cute."

He may be a preacher, but he can still be a jerk

BJ and I say a prayer together every night before we go to sleep. Here is a short, preacherly moment from last night.

BJ: Do you want me to do the prayer tonight?
Kalyn: Sure.
(after about 3 seconds of pious silence before the prayer begins)
Make it a good 'un.
(me laughing at my own cleverness)
BJ: Dear God, please give my wife a better personality.