I Need To Talk

I need to talk.  

I want to stand with every mom or dad out there who is feeling the burn.  This post is for you.

I'm in deep.

What's-his-poor-face broke his fibula in two places, and just like that, I became a caretaker of those with many, many, many needs.

This is where I'm at....

I haven't eaten since last night.  My diet consists mostly of take-out, halloween candy and Diet Coke.

Emphasis on Diet Coke.  

Last night, as I turned the shower on, my kid woke up.  I knew if I could get to her quick enough with a bottle, she would go back to sleep.  I turned the shower off, threw my robe on, tightened the cinch, ran downstairs to grab a bottle, ran up the stairs to deliver the bottle, and you know what I discovered?  If I run up the stairs naked, my post-baby gut slaps against the tops of my thighs.

I still haven't showered.

I haven't pee'd since 8:00 a.m.

It's 11:52 a.m.

My greatest accomplishment of the day is getting my baby to poop; four suppositories and lots of cheerleading got the job done.

I'm convinced all you women who always look great, not a hair out of place, clean house, clean car, perfect yard, well-dressed children with tone colons are addicted to Oxycontin.  I'm onto you!  

Hug Your Dog

Our Jesse-girl came down with GDV (colic) a couple of nights ago.  She underwent emergency surgery and survived.

When B-Lowe picked her up, she was ready to get out of there.

We had our pup, our "Mina", back in bed with us last night.

She is sore, but doing pretty well, considering what has happened to her insides.  God is good!

Hug your dog.  Do it now.

Re-Do

Good morning.  I can say that NOW.  I could not say that 15 minutes ago.

I rolled out of bed, traveled slowly to the kitchen to make my coffee.  My Cinnamon Swirl coffee--a happy place for any woman.  I dipped my measuring spoon deep into the container; John Denver's classic, Annie's Song, began playing in my head as my senses were filled with that cinnamon wonder...

"You fill up my sennnnnses...like a night in the forrest...like the mountain in sprrrring time..."

And, CRASH!  My hand hit an obstacle on the way to the coffee machine and this happened:

Annie's Song pleasantry fell into the pit.

A deep pit.

A pit of hell and hades.

I turned around to take a cleansing breath and I see my fowl waddling to their water hole.  I walked outside in my nightgown to say hi.  The Lord gives me a lot of joy from these crazies.

The sunrise seemed to call out Revelation 21:5, "I am making everything new!"  Suddenly, I felt a re-do.  I think those two lines just rhymed.

Never mind.

Drink your coffee.

You Know You're A Mom

You know you're a mom when you praise God for your mother-in-law who bought you 15 minutes of a "go-away-baby!" contraption.

You know you're a mom when you give her a pickle to give you an extra 15 minutes of "I'm saving my carpal tunnel spastic wrist from picking you up one more time!"

You know you're a mom when the second, and I mean the moment, and I mean the instant you know you need something at the store, you mark it down on your body.  Post-it notes have gone bye-bye.

You know you're a mom when you keep forgetting every stinkin' day to turn the water off.  The ducks don't mind.  In fact, it might be an answer to their prayers.

You know you're a mom when multiple bottles of Tylenol, Motrin, detached lids, and syringes are everywhere.  

You know you're a mom when you desperately seek for time to compare Greek with the New World Translation because Jehovah's Witnesses are coming back to visit in a couple of days and you're praying your guts out they will see that Jesus is God and worshipped as such.

You know you're a mom when your new Target candle provides that "I'm gonna make it!" feeling.

You know you're a mom when you count IT ALL joy!!!!

Miscellaneousness

I'll be brief.

1.  I found Pumpkin Spice coffee creamer at Target last night.  God's not dead.

2.  She was great in the store, then lost it in the car.  I reached back and handed her one of those smoothie in a bag baby foods.  She went silent and I had a beautiful ride home.

I'm an idiot.

3.  Laundry is one of many consequences of living in a fallen world.  

 

And I hate it!

Put Together

I'm put together.

My dog had an appointment this morning at the vet's for a teeth cleaning and I couldn't find her leash.

Or any leash for that matter.

We have many leashes.

Where a single one of them is, don't ask me, for I know not.

I had to improvise.

Like so:

This, ladies and gentlemen, moms and dads, is a purse strap from my Dooney & Bourke tote.

I'm put together.

Next stop, Target.  I'm out of baby food.  I don't make home made baby food, okay?  It's a LIE.

The plentiful glass jars of sweet potatoes were crammed into this tiny, ridiculous slot on the shelf.  I swear I was removing what I needed very carefully.

Nope.

Totally, put together.  

Good-bye forever,

F.T.O.P. (First Time Older Parent)

I Won't See Him

I lost Diesel yesterday.  I won't see him around anymore.  The reality of a loss always sets in the next day, doesn't it?

My first Pug ever, was Rosie.  She was a foster-adopt situation.  She was transferred from the Katrina disaster to the Humane Society in Phoenix, AZ.  She was being treated for an eye injury, heart-worm and depression.  She lost her owners.  I loved her.  I don't see her anymore, but, she gave me a forever love for Pugs.  Here she is tagging along at a horse show in Scottsdale, AZ.

I won't see him enjoy outings anymore.

I won't see him napping.

I won't see him act kingly around large animals 100x his size.

I won't see him accidentally sit on horse apples.

He's the third dog we've lost over the last year-and-a-half.

He could get along with anything that walked.

He would share a good dog pillow with any of them.  I won't see that anymore.

I won't see him with Jesse who licked his ears.

I won't see him with his baby.

Or this baby.

Or this baby.  We buried him with this one.

I won't see him on the couch.

I won't see him having a snooze-fest beside the fireplace.  Oh, how he loved the fireplace!

I won't see him enjoying a good-ol' basket of clean laundry (B-Lowe won't miss that).  

I do have these pictures.  

I do have the comfort knowing I put his pain before my own and let him go.  

I do have my love for Pugs that will continue to infinity and beyond.

Fowl Gossip

Spring is coming.

The ducks told me so.

They let me in on something else, too.

Something about Sammie.

The latest fowl gossip is there's a new nest in town.

Sammie, finally, is the first of my geese to lay eggs.

 My beautiful gosling, born one year ago, is all grown up.  Officially.

Which explains why she's been acting quite testy of late, chasing the other geese around.

I sat on my nest for nine months and was quite testy as well.

My hatchling came out January 28th.  Another beautiful, perfect creature around here.

Everybody lay some eggs!