Although a health issue like needing to find a new deodorant is not my usual topic choice, I feel the need this afternoon to share that I am definitely in search of some new magic formula.  I realized this morning that you know your Saturday is somewhat “free” when that is one of the top things on your list of “things to do” after finishing lesson plans and straightening the house.

There’s something about having a faint odor that brings back memories of your grandpa after he’s had a hard day of work on the farm that makes you realize something is “just not right.”  Especially when the toughest thing I’ve done today is clean up a few puppy accidents around the house.

Which brings me to another concern at the Nischan house.

Somehow I have exchanged the hectic schedule of running five kids all over the world for a somewhat quiet house filled with dogs!

While Snoopy and Peppy are quite old and honestly not a lot of trouble (except that they smell almost as offensive as I do at times, and they seem to need to come inside and/or go outside at the same time I decide to get comfortable with a cup of coffee and a book), Dash and Domino are struggling to understand the idea of potty training.

Mom and Dad were here for Christmas; and when Dad saw the puppy pad in the laundry room, his comment was, “So, you’re training them to go on the floor.”  I laughed and said, “Actually, I think you’re right.”  And you know what?  He is right!

Here’s the problem:

Our back yard does have a fence, but it goes up to the top of our hill where there must be small places to escape, so taking the puppies outside EVERY TIME they need to do their little thing is very stressful.  Seeing the pups disappear up into the trees and then wondering whether or not they will return is  a little more than I can take three or four or one hundred times a day, depending on how often they need attention.

So, we are trying puppy pads, but I am about to give up on this style even if it’s winter and even if it means multiple adrenaline rushes every single day as I hope the puppies will return after a little potty outing.

The main reason I believe it is time to try something else is this:

I had a dream this week that was way too real and left me feeling a little rattled.

I am going to share this dream at the risk of losing you all as friends (if sharing my need for new deodorant or my rant with my kids yesterday about wearing their retainers wasn’t enough- by the way, I never had the nerve to ask my kids to read that post, so I am counting on God to lead them here, I guess).

Before I share the dream, let me give a little background on my mental state.

I am reading a book with my class right now called Hunger Games.  Maybe you have heard of it.  I’ve never seen a book take a high school age group by storm in such a powerful way as this book is doing.  Kids have been asking for the sequels for Christmas and birthday gifts from their parents.  They have been sneaking and reading ahead and talking about the book in conversations as if it’s part of their normal life to have book discussions. 

The reality, though, is that this book is fairly violent.  Much more violent than anything I’ve ever read.  I’m not a scary movie person.  I’m not a thriller-book person.  In fact, my son Evan has said several times, “I just can’t believe you like that book, Mom.  It doesn’t seem like you at all.” 

I think it’s seeing the kids so “into” a novel that has made me love the book.  It is well-written and has lots of suspense.  But, again, it is violent and my mind doesn’t do violence very well.

At the same time, a house with four dogs is more than crazy; and at school I often think of our house and kind-of shutter as I realize that as I walk in, I will one again be greeted by a stinky laundry room that needs a deep spite of the glorious puppy pad protection.

I say all of that to say this, “I think (hope) my dream stemmed from a combination of a violent book and a house that is putting me over the edge.”

Cy, please don’t hate me, because honestly, Peppy is my biggest buddy.  He’s sleeping at my feet right this minute.  He follows me everywhere I go and whimpers until he is right by my side in the chair.

But in my dream, we were playing a board game and on each person’s turn they had to do something.  On my turn, and I cringe as I say this, “I shot Peppy.”  Yes, I shot my dog.  It was awful.  I woke up and saw Peppy and felt so guilty, so evil, so warped.

This dream has been haunting me, along with my need for new hygiene supplies, and I decided this morning that writing it all out of my system might be my only escape from my thoughts.

So, I am going to click “publish,” and then I am going to sit back and cringe and hope that I still have at least one friend.

I am also going to hope that someone gives me a suggestion for a favorite antiperspirant-deodorant and/or a puppy-training secret.


If we claim we have no sin, we are only fooling ourselves and not living in the truth. 

But if we confess our sins to him, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all wickedness. 

If we claim we have not sinned, we are calling God a liar and showing that his word has no place in our hearts.

I John 1:8-10


For now I am going to embrace the freedom that follows confession and try to enjoy my Saturday,