Doggie Brain Dump

I'm sure I've talked about my dog Humphrey here before. Humprey is my 13 year old tri colored Basset Hound.
We got him as a tiny puppy of 8 weeks old at a place in Brooklyn called "World Of Pets"

We had just gotten married in September and we went there to buy Mike a huge fishtank and fishies and all the other accessories that go with being a fish geek.

Half joking as we got out of the car I said

"There had better not be a Basset Hound in there or you are in trouble"

Humphrey in all of his 8 week old floppy glory sat dead center in the display window.  

We went to the fish section and got all Mike needed to be a happy fish-a-phile and I asked the guy if we could just see the sweet tri colored houndie pup in the window.

He was so little and sweet and when he tripped over Mike's shoe and fell face down ass up that was it. I had to have him.  He was my wedding gift from Mike.

Bassets can't have stupid names like Fluffy or Spot. They have to have serious names like Mortimer or Bernard or Angus. We chose Humphrey.

Humphrey has been with me for 13 years has moved 7 times with us, gone from being my only child to the third child and has maintained the sweetest demaenor ever the whole way through.

I'm crazy about that damn dog and that's the truth.

He's old now and extremely arthritic.  Most breeds can get around on 3 legs with minimal troubles. Not the Basset Hound. Their are so front heavy that they rely on those massive front paws to support them. When one doesn't work, everything goes out of whack.

He can't put any pressure on his front left paw due to the arthritis and it's taking a toll on his whole body.  He has to be boosted up onto the bed & the couch. Walking from one room to another leaves him exhausted and panting and needing to lie down.

He can't even go down the stairs to pee anymore.

I just took him out and took this video to show you guys how bad it's gotten.





I made an appointment for Thursday to take him to the vet.  I'm honestly not sure if he will be coming home with me or not.

I have been crying myself to sleep at night playing the visit out in my head. I'm 99% sure the vet is going to suggest letting him go and putting him to sleep.

I absolutely refuse to be one of those pet owners who take desperate expensive measures to keep him with me if he's suffering but at the same time I REALLY REALLY REALLY do not want to have to watch them inject him and hold him as he's dying. 

I worked in a vet's office for a while and I've seen animals euthanized. It's quiet and painless and quick but never ever easy.

I don't know for sure what the visit will hold but I'm trying to prepare myself for all outcomes...

The Circus

The Circus

“Come, come, look inside!
See the marvels that abide in our most splendid tent of magic, wonder, and portent!”
So yelled the mad ringmaster, Louis the Crock,who flashed a gold tooth and twirled his baton as he circled the ring and enamored the crowd with a promise of wonders and feats of renown.

The people milled ‘bout him, staring in awe at elephants,tigers,unicorns,fawns,ballerinas in tutus that sparkled in joy, clowns in sad makeup throwing some pie, tight-rope walkers, the fat lady singing, Siamese-twin gymnasts, the bearded woman preening.

But closed doors hid secrets the crowd shouldn’t know:
broken fun-house mirrors,
elephant bones,
a clown’s suicide notes,
human skulls,
caged freaks-of-nature crying for mother,
a ballerina or two chained and shackled,
runaway children,
a chest full of drugs,
still-smoking cigars,
an angry armed mob boss.

So the people kept milling, smiling and grinning, holding hands and licking ice cream cones,watching the fantasy, forgetting reality,and not knowing the truth behind the jokes.

Meds

So after a long sabbatical of being off Ritalin I finally decided to go back on it. I went to a physician for a physical. I asked him to please write me a script for the Ritalin.
No can do. He doesn't feel comfortable writing it before I'm seen by a psychologist who he wants to have write it first.

Okay, fine, whatever. I get an appointment with the only local doctor on my insurance for March 9th.
She agrees to write me for 20 mgs which is a really low dosage (When I was 18 I was on 60 mgs) I take it, for two weeks and call her to say it's not doing much, can I please come in and have her write a new script.

I have an appointment which she calls to cancel because of illness. She will reschedule me for the Tuesday morning prior to my going away on vacation for a week.

I'm now out of pills. She writes me a script for the 40mg dosage and informs me that she will be going away on vacation and will be back on May 9th. I take the script and call every single pharmacy in Hoboken. No one carries it. I'm out of time and have to go on vacation with no meds.

I get home a week later to discover the script is gone. Thrown in the garbage by mistake. The Doctor is unreachable as she's on a cruise till May 9th.  I decide to call my physician and take the original bottle to him and explain what happened and see if he can write a new script for me.
Two weeks with no meds.

I get to see the Doctor on Wednesday he writes me a script for the lower dosage. (Fine, whatever) Today I took the kids to the pharmacy to fill it. They don't carry it. We go to a second pharmacy.
They won't fill it because the Dr wrote the wrong date and corrected it on the same script. (He wrote 20 and then corrected it to 21)
I go home and call the doctors office. They are closed for the weekend and will reopen on Monday.

I'm really and seriously a breath away from crying. I'd just started to feel better, pulled together, back on track with the meds. I could remember things, dates, places, events. I didn't walk into a room and wonder why I was there. Didn't ask the same question two or three times.

Now I'm back at the start.  I know this will get resolved and I'll get the meds started again. It just feels like an awful big effort and lots of walls being thrown at me when all I'm trying to do is get myself back on track!!!

Vacations: A small vent

I know it's petty and I should be thankful for what I've got but a pal just booked a trip to London for just her and her husband. No kids.

I would LOVE to get away with Mike for more than one night but my mother and sister won't take them for more than an overnight.  We've tried take a weekend away going away to Disney but they said it was too far and they would be too nervous.

So the furthest we can go is Atlantic City.

I would love to take the kids to Europe but the airfare is insane for 4 people and we cannot afford it.

I am thankful that we get any time away at all. I know moms who have never had a night away from their children.

I guess I'm just bitter because when I was younger (starting at age 5 and my sister was 3) my parents would put us on a plane, unaccompanied and we would fly to Fort Laurderdale Florida. Every Christmas & Spring Break. My parents went all over the world while we were away.  My mother who hates to travel, got to travel all over the place thanks to my grandparents and I who love to travel can't get two nights in a row off.

This summer I'm going to talk to my mother and see how she reacts to my suggestion that we drop the kids off in the Berkshires for a week with her and Mike and I get to go and do something.  As I'm typing this, I'm cracking up because I know, that even with them being in camp from 9-4 each day she will say no.

She loves my kids but they cramp her style.

My dad who just came back from a month overseas was telling me all about it. I told him I wished we could travel and go to Europe. He said,
"You can! Go and do it!"
"I can't, we can't afford the airfare for 4 of us"
"So just you and Mike go"
"What? Leave the kids with mom? You think she would go for that?"
He started to laugh and said
"You're right. You can travel when they are in college"

Sigh...

Bullies

Patrick had a rough morning at drop off. Some kids in another class made it clear by pointing and making loud comments that they don't like Pats.

Pats reaction was to hover around them and wander close to them. I called him over because I knew what he was doing. I tried to tell him that in life people aren't always going to like you and aren't even going to try to get to know you. Those people are called time wasters and we want nothing to do with them. We only want to surround ourselves with good, kind people who love us and understand who we are and what we are about.

His response was that he wanted to know why they didn't like him.

I told him it didn't matter and that he needed to ignore them. To chase them was futile and useless.

I said these things knowing that they didn't make any sense and they were not really being heard because at that moment, his whole being was consumed with finding out why they didn't like him, and the desperate desire to win their friendship and show them he's a good guy.

I know this because I was him. I remember that manic desperation to win the hearts of your adversaries. At that moment it doesn't matter if you have a zillion friends. All you care about is why anyone would hate you or speak badly of you or try to hurt you.

You do stupid shit when you are in this mindset and you only come off appearing weak and pathetic which gives these fools more fodder to mock you with. The harder you try, the more screwy the whole thing gets.

Pats is a good kid with a huge heart and a kind gentle nature. He truly wants everyone to be harmonious and friends. It confuses him when he comes up against someone who is cruel or a pack of fools who don't feel the way he does.

Of course this whole 10 minute exchange between the boys and he and I ripped my heart right the hell out of my chest and I had to suppress my rage and my reaction to fly over to these boys eyes glowing, talons sharpened, shrieking like a harpy as I ripped out their eyes. 

After fighting this very battle myself I finally realized that I can twist myself in a pretzel to try to get these fools to see what a good person I am and what a good fun friend I would be if they would only give me a chance or I can focus on the folks who already know that.   It took me lots of heartache, lots of long talks with my parents, lots of tears shed and ultimately changing schools three times for me to figure out that I yam what I yam and not everyone is going to like that.

My parents knew that the whole ripping the eyes of my adversaries thing was not going to solve the problem so they (as hard as it was) didn't do it.

I will try to follow in their footsteps and not do it either but attempt to focus on Pats and building his self esteem and teaching him to focus on the good and shut out the negative.

I will however, not allow these morons to openly mock my son in front of me. If they do it again on Monday I'll be over there in a flash having a conversation with the boys and their parents. I'll try not to do the whole insane over protective shreiky mom thing but will remain calm but firm.

It's just so hard when it hits so close to home. It's so painful to watch my son go through even just a flicker of what I suffered through myself.

I can only comfort myself with the knowlage that I came out on the other side a strong, self confident, self assured, kind, gentle woman. 
I also need to remind myself that this was one single moment and perhaps an isolated incident.

Pats did wander off with his best pal and seemed okay but he and I will discuss it after school again.

As I was gathering my thoughts and trying to get my heart to beat right and shake that moment off I turned to see one of my favorite gals in Pats class leaning on the wall. She and I are pals. Every morning she comes over to me to wait for her teacher to arrive.

I get the feeling her mom might not be the very best or most attentive mom  so I've sort of attempted to take her under my wing and let her know that she's super cool, even if it's just for 5 mintues each morning.  She had told me she was going to get beads put in her hair last night so when I saw her I made a big fuss about how beautiful she looked and how her hair was so pretty.

She started to cry which was NOT the reaction I was aiming for. I squatted down and asked what was wrong and she said "Nobody likes me. I don't have any friends."

My first thought was that they must have pumped some weird anti self esteem vapors into the gym that morning. My next thought was that I'd just finished reading an article about how important same sex adults who are not parents are in the growth and developement of a child and how one comment, good or bad has the ability to shape a child at this age for the rest of their lives.

I squatted down and told her "Listen to me. You are a beautiful rock star. You are phenomial and amazing. You are strong and kind. You are cooler than Justin Bieber and Miley Cyrus. Anyone who doesn't see that is a fool and you don't need to waste time with them. Promise me you won't ever forget that."

She threw her arms around me and gave me the tighest hug. We wiped away her tears and I walked her over to where her class was.

I'm flattered she's attached herself to me and will contiune to sing her praises as I will to Patrick and Brian and any other kid who comes my way who needs a little extra love. 

I'll tell ya, I keep thinking these kids have it easy but I don't think I would want to turn back time and be little again. It's not that easy.

The little things

“Simplicity is the ultimate sophistication.”

Not that you would know it to look at me, but I'm really not a gal who like flash. I'm not a big fan of "stuff" and the saying "He who dies with the most toys wins" is foreign and absurd to me.

I think I've always been this way but it was truly cemented when I saw how horrible and bitter the estate battle got after Chrissy died. Her parents went to war over her stuff and spent thousands and thousands of dollars on lawyers. All over physical possessions which I know in life made her happy but she could have done without.  To see them attack each other over and over was jarring especially since I know both these people to be level headed and extremely bright.

A long time ago, Mike and I decided that we didn't want "stuff" we weren't going to spend our money on material things but we wanted to do things, go places, have experiences.

That is exactly what we've done. Our apartment has almost no furniture, what we do have are hand me downs, I don't go for designer clothing or accessories and most of our shopping is done on EBAY.

We do however take 4 trips to Disney each year, we go to Hershey for Halloween, the kids and I go to the Berkshires, Mike and I take as many overnights as we can. I always have my camera and I'm always taking pictures wherever we go.

For me, it's always been the smaller quiet gestures. The simple, unfussy gifts that make me most happy.

When Mike and I were dating early on, somewhere I'd mentioned that I LOVE Swedish fish.  Months later he came to me bearing a bag of Swedish fish telling me he knew I loved them.
I was blown away. That he had remembered a throw away comment made in a long forgotten conversation about a favorite candy meant more to me than if he had presented me with a diamond ring.
It meant he went out of his way to find something that would make me happy. That in itself is an amazing gift.

For my birthday, a friend got me this wonderful flouncy apron with skulls all over it. It's very girly till you get a closer look. She said she saw it and immediately thought of me.
Another very good pal got me a gluten free pastry cookbook. She said she thought of the Lion with my attempts to do as much of a gluten free diet for him as possible and my love of baking. She had remembered conversations we had had, saw something and it made her think of me.

Chrissy & I were forever doing that for each other. We would often buy very small items that made of think of the other at random times. It was our small way of saying "I love you and I'm thinking about you"

Mike went to DC this past week and he fell in love with the city. He sent me some photos from his phone:

These were places, things, moments that made him think of me. Places he wanted to share with me. Enough to take a picture to bring home to me.

He came home with a bottle of blue glitter glow in the dark nail polish for me. He saw it and thought of me.

That means more to me, knowing that in his busy day he took the time to think of me, that he saw something that reminded him of me.

You can keep your furs and diamonds and name brands. Give me the small powerful gestures. The personalized moments and things.  Those are the things that make me most happy.