Thursday, December 30, 2010

No KIDding. It's Christmas.

Oh my... my last post was the first part of October. I'm fired. Can you fire yourself? As if...

Fall decor up and put away. check.
Thanksgiving. check.

Oh yeah! Big surprise this year for Thanksgiving:) Brian showed up out of the blue at the office. He wasn't supposed to come home until Christmas. Much crying. Many hugs. check.

24th anniversary. check. note to self: getting married is December is a very bad idea. don't do it... too late. grrr.

And then the big one. drum roll please... CHRISTMAS!!

Yeah, okay. whatever. It seems that all of my years of successes in this department are now overshadowed by my stubborn denial of the adult Christmas years. Christmas with kids is tons of fun with wrapping paper messes and early morning faces. Christmas with no kids is... less exciting. Don't get me wrong; Brian is home, which is great! We all went to see Voyage of the Dawn Treader and we have eaten all of my best stuff. Family gatherings have been enjoyed, Sunday school parties have been attended, choir and church stuffs, all drawing our attention to the real reason for the season. BUT... there is just something missing.

I am being dragged - kicking and screaming- into this new season of my life. Adult(ish) children make everything different. This year's gifts were not wrappable (not a word, I know). Bethany wanted a trip with the college kids to music fest and Brian's gift was a special hand me down from his dad - which we gave him at Thanksgiving because it was too large to take home on the plane at Christmas. I did try to put together stocking stuffers for them. Oy. Standing in Target, I realized that I had NO IDEA what my son has or needs or wants any more. My new year's resolution is to start a Christmas club this year (um... been promising myself that for YEARS) and that I will really try to drag my head out of the proverbial sand and come up with something I can feel good about giving to two young adults.

Now if I can just get someone to help me take down these stupid Christmas decorations.

Friday, October 8, 2010

Big Bad Wolf

A couple of weeks ago, God blessed me unexpectedly with a request to join my friend/boss for a little business trip down to Grapevine, TX. She had a home health/hospice conference to go to and her agenda included accommodations at the Great Wolf Lodge, which you may have seen highlighted on a recent episode of "Undercover Boss". She didn't want to go to this conference and stay at this very family oriented resort and leave her daughter at home (duh!) so she graciously asked Bethany and I to accompany her so that she could come along. I graciously accepted this offer... to stay at a fancy resort I couldn't afford 30 minutes away from my child that I couldn't afford to visit on the first weekend of his service in a new church. yay! How cool is that?





First let me say the the Great Wolf Lodge was all that the tv show described and more. Way cool for families with kids of pretty much any age under say 15 or so. But, as I told my facebook friends, I have one word for those unwittingly drawn to this kid vacation dream: stairs. Get ready people because one of the big events of this resort is a thing they call magiquest. The kids get to go on a massive scavenger hunt for cool stuff that covers the entire resort... all EIGHT floors. They "collect" their bounty with these little electronic wands that register their treasures and keep count of their points, which are posted on the magiquest channel on the television in their room and on various tv's throughout the resort. It is a BIG deal. I should mention here that one of the rules is NO ELEVATORS. I mean they have elevators, of course, but they are not to be used in the games. The kids all think that the elevators deduct points electronically if they are tempted to cheat. Now in all fairness, I don't really know this to be true. But I saw several children using various and sundry methods to avoid getting caught while using the elevators. One little girl has her magic wand up under her shirt. When I asked her why she was holding her wand under her shirt, she told me that one of the kids had told her that the elevator would be fooled if it was under her clothes. I asked her if it was possible that that other child had lied to her just to see her do something ridiculous. I have no idea what her conclusion was, because she ran off quickly as I boarded that elevator in blessed quietness. Another child was similarly dispensed with as she waited for the elevator, holding her wand carefully with her thumb over the end where the sensor was located. She assured me that this was a safe way to travel up the elevator without detection. I told her that was silly and that of course the elevator would still know. She took off just as quickly.

Elisha Otis would be proud.


Thursday, September 9, 2010

Once upon a time...

... there was this woman.

She was kinda getting old and had some issues with pain. Not just the getting old kind of issues; real issues with physical therapists and pills and stuff. She did all manner of things to cope with said pain. Hot tubs (at her sister's house - a whole nother story...), drugs to dull the pain, drugs to increase her pain tolerance, research to understand her pain, spiritual enlightenment to accept her pain. blah blah blah. Mostly she tries to keep her mouth shut about it because there are others in far worse circumstances; and, well... no one likes a whiner.

Over the course of years of dealing with this pain, she has developed TMJ (another painful condition, go figure) most likely from grinding her teeth. Hmmm; wonder why... I digress. In any case, at some point a physical therapist was called in to render assistance. He "gave" her a TENS unit, which is akin to a modern shock therapy treatment so small you can carry it in your purse. A personal taser, if you will.

Fast forward with me, a couple of years later to when her pain is back at an intolerable level. She went to the closet to pull out aforementioned personal taser to treat herself- which sounds a little inappropriate, but you get the point. She had her daughter carefully measure out the trigger points in her upper back that were the alleged cause of her pain and applied the contacts. The pain ridden woman then carefully chose a setting which delivered about as much zzzt as her sore muscles could endure. She closed the safety cover and curled up for a little snoozy.

About that time the beautiful, but cruel, daughter turned on the discovery channel and the sound of "mike's" voice from Dirty Jobs could be heard thru the living room. Aha, thought the woman in the midst of her treatment.... I like that show and it would give me something else to think about other than the taser that I have purposely attached to my own flesh.

She raised her head from the soft pillow in order to turn herself into a position in which to view the screen. In a twist of fate, she inadvertently flipped open the cover to the settings, spun the dial to full ZZZZZT, and flipped the cover closed.

There were several ways in which you could have relieved herself of this predicament. Unfortunately, she was unable to think of any of them.

She lived.

The End

Friday, September 3, 2010

Thirty four days

That's how long it has been since I have held him, looked into his eyes, felt the stubble of his little man-face, and known for sure that he is really okay. We have talked; we have texted. We have spoken of love and shared cross words and made up again... all normal things but from 8 hours away.

I have cried in Walmart. I have cried at the mall, at work, and at church. I have cried in the kitchen, the living room, the shower. In some ways, it reminds me of childbirth. After nineteen hours of labor they put this tiny little piece of creation into your arms and all is forgotten. The mess, the pain... all fade into the sweetness of that face - which is, of course, the only reason you ever do THAT again. Somehow, when he walked out the door every power struggle we ever had, every pair of shoes I ever tripped over, every exhausted evening spent leaning over a tub, every vomiting session, every horrible piano recital... all gone. I miss him so much that I hurt. literally. It is the second hardest goodbye of my life.

Don't get me wrong. I wish him heaps and heaps of success. I don't wish him to come home, as much as I wish that I could roll back the clock to 1989 and do it all again. I love to hear of how much he loves his classes and how he is finally applying himself in school...

because someone is finally asking him to do something he cares about.

Wednesday, August 4, 2010

Finally.

Okay... who is tired of hearing about my partially empty nest? I know I am. But, if you must know we survived the delivery. His apartment is actually bigger than the one we had when we married, but since I understand that he really doesn't want a big hairy dude in his nice new queen sized bed, I'll give him that. I had to share my first grown up room with the big hairy dude, but at least I got a washer and dryer in the hall. I guess it's just a trade off.

We drove around his chosen academy and were very impressed. We also got some really great tex-mex. The traffic in the Dallas/Fort Worth area is pretty much stand still in spite of all of the highways spiralling around each other. I think I got lost going to the bathroom. Poor kid doesn't stand a chance. We ended up leaving the GPS for him so that when he takes a wrong turn, he can find his way back to his new home. To which, hubbby asked how we were gonna get home.

We planned one last water park day at Hurricane Harbor. We went on a Saturday, which was pretty much a stupid plan. They were pretty busy. We got a good look at the park as we drove into town since it is practically ON the interstate. We climbed up one ginormous tower of death that nearly had me hyperventilating just standing in the line. I am one cool mom. I am sure that that is what they were thinking while I was clinging to the railing and making little squeaky noises every time they looked like they were thinking about looking down. Stupid boy in front of me thought he would have a little fun at my expense and proceeded to pretend to throw his pretty girl friend over. I don't think that she appreciated it either. I just kept remembering that silly article about the kid who was decapitated at six flags trying to retrieve his hat. I survived that actual flight down the slide, but I don't think that I will need to use a neti pot any time soon.

We rented a Ford Explorer for the trip since driving 20 hours or so in three days just sounds painful. I fell in love with it. Unfortunately, college bills are looming so it will have to wait.

for about 6 years...

Wednesday, July 28, 2010

Ewwww!

Okay... he's leaving tomorrow.

He got enough cash from family to buy a really good mattress and I am so glad. I offered to give him the relatively new set of sheets that I have, because I have decided that I don't really care for them. He declined because he didn't want to sleep on sheets that his parents might have "done anything" in.

alrighty then.

Thursday, July 22, 2010

two... one...

Okay, Brian now has an address. It's in another STATE. Thank goodness for Cymbalta. I'm just saying. He was wondering the other day why I wasn't hysterical yet. I suspect he just wants a little warning when all the emotion that has been building is gonna blow. I've got nothing. It's the drugs. That, and the fact that my working full time keeps me too busy to think a whole lot. But, I must be reacting on some subconscious level because I keep waking up with raging headaches from my TMJ. I hope that wears off eventually.

I wasn't planning to drive all the way to TX just to get him settled in his new apartment. He is almost 21 years old for heaven's sake. I made the reservations yesterday.

We are planning one last family day at six flags hurricane harbor because nothing says I am going to miss you like hurling yourself down a swirling pipe into a giant wave pool.

Monday, July 19, 2010

Five. Four. Three...

So this weekend was spent going thru all of Brian's clothes and shoes. Let me just say that my son has aLOT of shoes, which I think is a little weird for a guy. Almost no clothes; but a stink load of shoes.

We ended up with a bag of clothes to take, a bag of clothes that were going to good will, and a bag of clothes that were not even fit for good will. All of his laundry is currently done, which never happens; and now I need to take him shopping because they don't let them go to school naked. At least I hope not.

We bought him a box of his own pens; the kind he likes to steal from his daddy. I must be a bad mommy because I had a little chuckle the other day when I imagined him waking up one day with a migraine, stumbling to the medicine cabinet, and discovering that Excedrin doesn't just appear there. I giggle to myself a little when I hear him talking with his roommate about where to put the tv and the couch he is taking. They have no idea what they are doing, but there is really only one way to learn the details of life, other than standing in front of an empty medicine cabinet and realizing that you have to go to walmart and buy that stuff.

Speaking of Walmart... I need to stop on the way home. I went to the fridge the other day. We were out of butter. rats.

Friday, July 9, 2010

Ten. nine. eight. seven. six...

So the count down has begun in earnest.

It started on the 24th of August 1989 when they wheeled me by his incubator. He was just over four pounds and a little more than 18 inches long. Now he's somewhere in the neighborhood of six foot two... eyes of blue. never mind.

Back then the hardest thing about being a new mother was leaving him at the hospital when they said I had to go home. Now he is the one leaving and I am on a roller coaster of pride and fear and joy and emptiness.

I can't help but compare this loss to the loss of his brother. I believe Daniel is in heaven, safe and sound. Brian is headed out to only God knows what. At least Brian can come home for Christmas. That's what I keep telling myself, but it feels like grieving all the same. I believe that I have done the work that led to this moment, but suddenly I see all of my failures in bold strokes. As he is headed out the door he is doing inventory of all that will go with him. I wonder if he will remember that the part of my heart that he stole all those years ago is bound for Texas with him.

God, I pray that you will shield him from the shortcomings of his parents and from his own folly. Remind him that we are always his no matter how far away he goes. Keep him safe; help him find a job; keep him focused; help him find a job. Send him a mate that is meet just for him; keep his heart steady for her sake. But most of all, God, please send him home for Christmas.
amen.

Tuesday, June 22, 2010

Summer fun

This week the kids are gone to "camp". It isn't really camp. I mean they are sleeping on the floor at our church. in our town. down the street. However... there are a number of smaller churches from our community that are staying with them as they host their own version of camp. They are also hitting the streets doing mission projects, which is pretty cool since we just had a pretty devastating flood in our area. Of course it is the first week of summer and pretty much as hot as... well. you know. Anyway, I expect them to come home at the end of the week exhausted and really stinky.

David was sent down to Florida yesterday for a day of competition for work, so I spent last night alone. The dogs would be offended if they could read; they can't, so we're good. Schatzi tried to sleep with momma, but she would not fall for it. nosiree. Truly, however, snuggled up nice and tight. We went to bed early, as all working women would love to; and then stared at the ceiling for hours. The great paradox is that sleeping without a snoring machine is as impossible, or worse, than sleeping with one. grrr. Not to mention the fact that our tv watching habits make staying ALONE not a fun thing to do. I locked up tight when my sister left and barricaded us in the bedroom. I am such a baby.

Tonight, the snoring machine will be home so hopefully I can just head out to the couch like normal:)

Tuesday, June 8, 2010

There goes the budget

Well, I have finally succumbed to the inevitable. I have hired a sweet college student to clean for me over the summer. I hereby admit defeat. I have this insane desire to come home to toilets that don't scare me and showers that don't gross me out. Of course this simply means that I clean like crazy the night before she comes over, but whatever. There are just, literally, not enough hours in the day to complete a woman's tasks; and if she is working full time... forget about it (insert nasally NY accent). When you add the summer time yard and pool stuff there is just no way.

Having someone in your house - even someone you trust- is somewhat daunting. This person is going to have access to all your stuff; know all of your deepest darkest secrets... assuming you have any. but still. Do I really want someone poking thru my medicine cabinet, seeing all of those expired prescriptions that I cannot seem to dispose of??? What about my secret stash of junk that really has no place, but I still keep it. Hair on the soap? Poo on the back side of the toilet lid?? KY jelly?? (sorry, dad) I mean really. Is it worth it??

It SO is:)

and yet I wonder.

Tuesday, June 1, 2010

Memorial Day 2010

... will forever be the day that the God of the universe stepped into the life of my family and changed it's course forever. Tragedy was averted and I am eternally grateful. I wonder how often this happens when I am not even aware.

After a couple of hours of fun in the sun and the water, all of the kids came out for a little snack/supper time. So many little ones... so many adults... too much visiting and not enough paying attention. My fearless little great-niece slipped away from her juice box and over to the deep end. At just the right moment a dear friend "happened" to turn her head in just enough time to see her baby fingertips disappear over the edge. It makes my heart stop even now to remember her tiny self being pulled from the water.

I have loved my pool up until now. I am not sure anymore. It has been almost 24 hours and I am still crying off and on at the memory. To all of my friends this summer... be diligent. We often act like the unthinkable could never happen to us. It can.

Thank you God for grace this day. Thank you Tina for being more aware than all of the rest of us combined. Thank you Isabella, for your sweet marshmallow kisses when you left for home - safe and sound.

Thursday, May 27, 2010

Seasons in life

Once again I haven't blogged in a while... mostly because work has been a little overwhelming these last couple of months. We are working on a rather large "project" which has invaded my life and left me gasping for air. The word "project" is actually more like a euphemism for butt-load-of-junk-that-needs-doing-that-no one-else-can/will-do. They say that there is a sucker born every minute. I wonder what flavor that makes me... hmmmmm.

Summer is here again, in all of its glory. I hear that my pool is great. I wouldn't know:) BUT, my checkbook heard about it and it has been bragging to the saving account. SAVINGS ACCOUNT - hahaha - I crack myself up, sometimes.

My DVR is killing me. All of my shows, just waiting for me to curl up with the dogs. It is all I can do to keep up. Survivor is over. Russell lost. Need I say more. American Idol is over and Simon is leaving. Crystal lost there, and let me tell you, we are none too happy about this at our house. Dancing with the Stars is over... no wait; I don't have any idea what happened there because I don't watch that one. We have to draw the limit to the reality show variety, people! Bones is over for the season and Temperance (side note: love the name) has gone to timbucktoo... Fringe is over and Olivia's evil twin has come over to our reality. We are working our way thru the CSI season finales and the NCIS finales and the House finale... and Criminal Minds - YIKES! I am currently trying to figure out how to cut off all serial killers from my facebook and blogging site. I am pretty sure that I could have gotten that silly house clean by now if it weren't for that DVR. AND... I'd probably be wet by now, not to mention all the cool stuff that I would have blogged about.

One a sad note, we have had to send our Zoe punkin to live with another family. My working schedule is so all-consuming that the dogs have had to rethink their place in the pack. I have always kind of poo-pooed the idea of the "alpha dog" mentality, but we have watched the chain of command unravel before our very eyes. Zoe is naturally the alpha because she is the mommy. However, she is very laid back and happy and only comes into this position by default. Truly has decided to exert her decidedly strong will and no longer wants to be second in command. This led to some very serious fighting in the ranks. After much research and many tears, we decided it was in both of their best interests to split them up which of course led to my Sophie's Choice moment. Fortunately, the good people from whom we originally procured said yorkie was willing to welcome home one of their grandpuppies. She fit right back in. THAT is how I spell relief. Things have been much quieter on the dog front with her gone. Not that she was the noisy one, by any means... I guess that it is just the overall onelessness. The dogs are happier, but apparently I have offended a number of people for not "picking" them to be Zoe's new family. Don't really care so much, as long as she is spoiled rotten for the rest of her life.

Cause that's just how I roll.

Thursday, April 8, 2010

Some changes that are more of the same

In a great twist of irony, it appears that we will be heading back into the world of curriculum and grades and classes and all things schooly... too bad I gave away all my stuff.

Bethany has made quite an effort to like school; honor roll, all west, spring play. She just really hates it. She was planning a career in education. I told her she may want to rethink that. She complains alternately of being so tired that she can barely function and being bored out of her mind, which takes a great deal of focus. Although she has had some teachers that she has truly enjoyed, there is one... never mind. Let's just say that she will be taking a refresher course in Spanish before beginning Spanish 2, even though she has an average of 104 in that class.

She is also used to working at HER pace, which apparently is considerably faster that the norm. Who knew? I am concern about so much time being spent on one concept that there will not be time to complete the material, which wouldn't matter so much if there wasn't another class to take after that one. When you home school, you tend to know you are finished when there are no more pages in the book. In school school you are done when there are no more days in the year... not the same thing.

She also doesn't really "get" the drama; and we all know that high school girls are ALL about the drama. She gets along with other kids just fine, she just doesn't really understand the emotional stuff. We talked before she started school about the movie Mean Girls and how that the reason it struck such a chord was because it was quite accurate in its description of the different groups that she might expect to find. Don't get me wrong, she has been involved in youth group since the sixth grade and tae kwon do and swimming team and music lessons; all of which involved groups of kids. It's just that somehow school is different and high school is the most different of all.

She did get her invitation to join the "plastics" the first week or so of school, but as soon as she figured out who they were she distanced herself because that is not who she wants to identify herself with. Unfortunately, I think there may have been some fall out from that decision. Who wants to hang out with the new girl who spurns the attention of the popular crowd? Fortunately, real life - and even college - is not really like high school. I don't really see the need to torture her any further.

So, here I go... shopping for curriculum and coop classes and such again. Only now momma is working, which will be a whole 'nother deal. My sister has offered for her to do her work at her house. Yeah right. She will never get ANYthing done... neither will Bethany.

Fortunately, we only have one year left. I think that I am just going to buy what she needs to graduate and hand it over to her to deal with it. She tends to be overly responsible, so that really isn't an issue. Besides I figure that she will just keep working til it's done. When it's done is up to her. I don't have the first born compulsion for her to be the first and the fastest. Brian sucked it right out of me... that and the fact that she's not the first born.

Now... who did I give that globe to?

Wednesday, March 24, 2010

The corners of my mind

I have always had a fascination with memories and how they are triggered. The other day my husband snuggled up behind me after his shower and I was instantly transported to Cancun where we spent our honeymoon. He has a particular cologne that he took with him on that trip that for some reason stands out in my mind. I am not even sure of the name of it, but he has hoarded it over the years and every once in a while he surprises me with a little mini vacation. The smell of Royal Copenhagen and leather also reminds me of our dating years; of who and what we were to each other back then... This morning I heard a snippet of the song, "Time in a Bottle" by Jim Croche and for a second I could see myself sitting in Swenson's ice cream parlor having an after dinner sundae with him. I have probably heard that song thousands of times... and eaten sundaes at that restaurant dozens of times. Why that particular memory??? I have no idea, except that I distinctly remember hearing it playing over the sound system while we were there at some point.

The sharp, almost bitter smell of a new born baby's head before its first bath will always remind me of Daniel. The sweetness of baby lotion and powder makes me think of Brian and Bethany and Madison as I bathed their sweet babyness.

My dad's mother lived in a very old wood framed farm house in Iowa when I was a child. She has been gone for the better part of twenty years now, but the smell of an old wood house or the raspberries that she grew in her garden and I am a puddle of tears. Her birthday is coming up in a couple of weeks and she has been close in my thoughts. When I close my eyes and drift into sleep, right before it overtakes me... I can almost remember the sound of her voice. The ticking sound of an old wind up mantle clock reminds me of the nights that I spent buried in her feather mattress listening to her reading to me. I remember that she had a book about birds and the sounds that they make and I was so fascinated that the chickadee made the sound of its own name. I remember the sounds of dad and mom and grandma talking in the next room while that very same clock chimed out the hours. I remember how when I was fifteen and was so hurt by something that Dad had said to me that I was crying like a baby... how she held me and told me the truth. How she had seen his love for me and his hurt at the separation that divorce had brought. I remember her quirkiness at hoarding foil tv trays for some unknown reason and her love for gardening and how she could talk your head slap off!! I remember walking with her into town because she didn't drive and going to bingo with her and her senior citizen group while she proudly showed me off. It pains me that my kids can never really share in these memories.

Happy birthday, Grandma. I love you & I miss you so much...
God grant that I become half the woman that you were.

Wednesday, March 17, 2010

Change Shmange

To say that working full time again has changed my life would be the understatement of the century. The last time I worked these hours we hand wrote our journal entries and there was no such thing as (gasp:) the internet. And I had no children. or dogs. We had a cat, but truthfully you don't really have a cat as much as it has you.

We lived in an apartment and thought we were so grown up. as IF. Years don't grow you up near as much as kids do... and trouble. And trouble with kids grows you up the most. That's what I hear anyway; mine are perfect angels (dodging the lightening:)

This time around I am determined to not eat out so much, as we did in those days. I am trying to learn to cook several meals over the weekend and store them in such a way as to preserve a modicum of yumminess for later in the week. It's a challenge. I have learned a few things that work and few that don't. Sometimes the whole meal is left over friendly; sometimes just part can be pre-cooked. And I am trying not to worry about the land fill that I am personally responsible for with my foil pans.

I can't really figure out when to shop. Walmart is CRAZY on the weekends, but I'm exhausted in the evenings. Hubby plays a friendly little game of poker a couple of times a month. I am thinking about trying it then. I spend less when he is not with me. Not that he doesn't get goodies, mind you; he is all about the food related surprises. Somehow, I spend more on other stuff when he is around; much like I do when my sister and I team up. I guess that I am just distracted. Maybe there are Walmart employees who just sneak around the store adding a few items here or there to the ever growing cart. If my kids can get by with it, I assure you that a complete stranger would never even be noticed.

Laundry is also a challenge to get finished over the weekend because you can only make the washer and dryer go SO fast. At least the weather is warming up so I will be able to take advantage of the clothesline that I got last spring. That moves things along a little quicker, and they smell so yummy when I remember to bring them in off the line. Leaving them out in the rain is... well, not so yummy.

I am watching the weeds coming up in what should be a flower bed and sigh to myself. There is no chance that I am going to get to that. The hall has been spackled for painting for two years. whatever.

At least my sister has blessedly succombed to my pleading to groom the girls and I have spoken to a very nice lady who can come and clean my shower.

Yay... maybe I will see that pool this summer.

Tuesday, March 16, 2010

A Month in Review

YIKES... it's been a month since the last blog. So much has happened.

One of the dogs peed in my bed. the sheets were new. and freshly washed.
Same dog pooped on my bed while I was in the shower. after I washed the peed sheets.
I am pretty sure that she is mad. I know that I am. She is mad about the new dog run that is 10 x 10 instead of the nice big ole yard that she has had free reign of for the last couple of years. I am mad about... well, you know what I am mad about.

I went to Disney World for the first time:)

I sat with the most beautiful girl on the planet and watched the fireworks over Cinderella's castle.

I saw my sister pay a hundred bucks to have scrambled eggs with some chick in a Cinderella costume. I didn't break it to her that she is really a cartoon.

Had an argument with Drucilla about whether or not she could have my chocolate chip mint ice cream... right in the middle of a parade. paid $5 for that bowl... darn right I kept it.

I rode the monorail.

I ate a turkey leg that tasted like pork. Not sure how this is done.

I traded WAY too many pins.

I rode the Hollywood Tower of Terror. twice:)

I missed my hubby and my son.

I missed my dogs.

One of them did NOT miss me.

Tuesday, February 16, 2010

Apparently I'm a dog whisperer

I just left a status update on facebook about my horrific experience giving CPR to my scrappy little yorkie runt. I am sure that my family is tired of hearing me talk about it; but there is something about a really traumatic event that makes you feel the need to tell it over and over. Why? no idea. I mean, wouldn't it be better to forget the bad stuff... instead of reliving it? whatever.

So, for everyone ELSE... Last Friday, I sent the baby (aka. schatzi, shoo schoo, shoop de do, scoobydoo, precious baby girl, momma's baby, super dog - you get the idea) to the groomer for her spring hair cut. That in itself was a little traumatic since there was snow on the ground. Bethany went to drop her off on her way to school only to discover that there was some sort of appointment snaffu in which I entered the wrong date into my planner, or they did... depends on whom you ask. In any case, they grudgingly received yet another dog to groom for the day, which is not exactly how a dog owner wants this process to go. Especially the ones who are a little nuts about their yorkie babies.

Fast forward to that evening, where I had much shopping to do after work and did not get home until pretty much bed time. Enter guilt. My precious baby had not seen me all day and therefore I felt compelled to let her sleep at my feet... stupid mommy. Itty babies who wuv their mommies never STAY at your feet. They wait until you are sleeping and then sneak (no exaggeration here) up to your side and snuggle in.

Unfortunately, Daddy was there too. Schatzi decided to throw caution to the wind and wedge herself between us. Fortunately, I am a very light sleeper and when Dad decided to flip over sometime around 2:30 am it woke me up and I (instantly taking in these circumstances) deflected the inevitable smashing. Sometime soon after I reached down and Schatzi felt a little off. I really have no other explanation than that. I just knew something wasn't right.

I picked her up to find her not breathing. In complete panic, I threw on the light and started trying to rouse her with no luck. I was talking to her and petting her vigorously without a change. Her eyes were open, but not awake. I pried her mouth open and swept the back of her throat with my finger in case she had choked. nothing. I actually shoved my finger down her throat with no reaction whatsoever. At this point I wrapped my hand around her snout and puffed a breath into her lungs. over and over again. After about 4 or 5 puffs, she finally began to come around.

I held her and talked to her for a while and eventually took her to the living room to hold her for the rest of the night. Thankfully (and I DO mean thankfully) she recovered with no apparent problems. My vet friend says that I was very lucky. Moments later would have been too late. I will never make the mistake of letting her sleep with us again.

She may never sleep with mom and dad again, but life is looking pretty good for this little bit of sunshine. Her mommy has decreed that she can have anything and she can do anything she wants to do from now on.

Truly is trying to convince me that she was faking it.

Thursday, January 21, 2010

ramblings about nothing much

While I am sitting here whining to myself at the lack of blogging material to read from various and sundry friends, I am struck by the irony that it has been a while since I have written anything. oops.

Of course the job is sorta taking up most of my time. That and trying to make it up to the kids. and the dogs. Mostly the dogs, since the kids don't seem to have noticed that their mother is no longer around. Schatzi is trying to convince me that sleeping with us at night is the only way that she will ever know that she is loved again. Truly just blows her kisses from the bed as Daddy carries her off to the kitchen and her crate for another night of solitary confinement. Zoe sleeps with Bethany and is perfectly content with that arrangement. I am not sure if she has noticed that I am gone, either.

Anyhoo... the count down has begun to Disney. Truly has officially earned the right to make the trip with mom and Bethany. The other girls are just too unruly - code for running away when mom is screaming "come here!!!". I have my official mickey mouse sweatshirt hoodie in hand... much too big, but whatever. I am shopping for a fanny pack now to carry stuff around the park. Do you know that Eeyore stuff is really hard to find. Is this too much to ask? I mean really.

that's all I have time for today:)
see you next month.

Tuesday, January 5, 2010

2010... and all that that entails

As we enter into the new year; a new decade, even... I would like to take a moment to pray for less trips to the emergency room than last year. I should have known when the year began with the firstborn throwing himself down a mountain a bazillion miles away from home that we were in for a bumpy ride. Two surgeries, two MRIs, and countless xrays and ultrasounds later the doctor bills are enough to depress Mickey Mouse.

Speaking of Mickey Mouse, the baby girl and I are going to sneak out of town in a few weeks and crash my sister's family vacation to Disney world. I have never been (thanks, DAD:) so we are very excited. Besides, the last real vacation that we have taken was somewhere around nine or ten years ago. I mean, does camping really count as a vacation? I don't think so... not the way I do it anyhow. Unfortunately, Disney is so expensive that only half of the family can afford to go; but, the boys are being very grown up about it. so far.

We are also trying to get the dogs settled for the new year. With momma gone twelve hours a day and three yorkie bladders... well; you do the math. To the end that we don't have to put in concrete floors, we have decided to install a puppy door. Then we have to deal with the problem of dogs barking all day and bothering the neighbors and potential bad people stealing them while they are lounging around unsupervised all day. We also don't want any stray children or other animals coming IN the puppy door. AND... we can't run the risk of any of them being in the mood and having free reign to entice the entire neighborhood to come over and visit. just saying. Holy stinkin' cow... does anyone need a dog? just kidding; I can't part with my babies. I guess you get the point that this is a major project. And by "project" I mean "money pit".

Happy New Year, people!!