Category Archives: family

Sunday Adventures

I’m in the kitchen cooking bacon for breakfast. The dogs are outside sunning themselves on the deck.

I hear the sound of doggie nails scratching on the deck which usually means that someone is off to chase some sort of furry critter out of the yard.

I take a peek out the back door expecting to see Rocky watching Millie chase one of the neighborhood cats away from the bird feeders.

Imagine my surprise when I see Millie on the deck and Rocky nowhere to be seen.

Crap. This isn’t going to end well. The last time this happened, Rocky got his ear pierced by a mama groundhog.

Bad word. Bad word. Lots of very bad words. I go back inside to find my shoes to investigate.

Rocky must have heard the bad words because he peeked around the grill as if to say “I’m okay, Mom”

Millie had a “I tried to stop him, Mom” look on her face.

Bless their hearts . . . yes they got some bacon . .

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Happiness Is . . .

Standing on the back deck in your warm flannel nightgown and fuzzy blanket robe drinking coffee and watching the birds at the bird feeders . . .

Even if it is only 26 degrees . . .

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Filed under 4 legged kids, coping, family, furbabies, millie, Neighbors, Play, PostADay, rocky, Stuff, weather

Bless Her Heart

It’s cold. It’s windy. It’s snowing. But there’s a possum in the alley and Millie is determined that it should not be there . . . so she wants to go out every five minutes to give the possum a piece of her mind . . . 

That girl is going to be the death of me yet . . .

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Home Again, Home Again

After a short shopping trip in Amish Country, I’m home from my girls weekend trip.

Lunch at my favorite burger spot with the bestie.  Then home to get the doggies and start laundry.

Wonderful hearing the sound of the doggies snoring . . .

 

 

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You Wouldn’t Understand

“You wouldn’t understand. You’ve never had kids.”

“It’s not like you have kids or anything.”

Without a doubt, those are some of the most hurtful words I’ve ever heard.

I ended a 40 year friendship because of that remark.

Hearing my XH say those words to me marked the beginning of the end of our marriage.

And today I heard them from a co-worker.   From the last person I ever thought would say such a thing.  From someone who should know better than to say something like that to a co-worker. From the HR Director.

It may have been an off-hand comment with no intention to be mean and hurtful.

But it hurt.

And it seemed mean.

She didn’t know if I was “childless by choice”

She didn’t know if I struggled with infertility and was unable to get pregnant.

She didn’t know if I was able to get pregnant but not carry a baby to term.

She didn’t know if I was able to carry a baby to term but there were complications and the baby didn’t survive.

All she knows is “No, I don’t have children” and she used that information against me to prove a point in a senseless debate that she probably won’t remember tomorrow.

But I’ll remember that conversation for a long time. And it will affect me for a long time. And it will color my relationship and all my future interactions with her and will limit what kind of personal information I choose to share with her and, possibly, other co-workers.

And that will make me seem “standoffish” and “cold” and she’ll never understand why . . .

 

 

 

 

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Filed under 2 legged kids, coping, ex-hubby, family, grief, PostADay, Stuff, Work

Five Years, Six Months, One Day

This post will probably be a convoluted mess with no real point . . . pretty much like every other post . . . so hang tight, y’all . . .

Yesterday was a day I’ve been dreading . . . because I have useless stuff stuck in my head most of the time . . . and I realized that July 20, 2019 was the five and a half year mark of the day of Prince Charming’s Death . . . trying to be an optimist . . . I tried to focus on the fact that it’s also the 50th anniversary of the Apollo 11 moon mission . . . and Prince Charming LOVED all things space related (he watched the NASA channel for fun!) so I thought I could get through the day focusing on the space mission and not on Prince Charming being gone . . .

It worked . . . until I got out of bed yesterday . . . and saw that Rocky was a bit “wobbly” and having some problems getting around.  Okay, he’s 10, has arthritis and has trouble getting around sometimes but never as bad as yesterday morning.  The look on his face broke my heart.  A mix of “WTF?” and “Mom, help me!” . . . and I went straight to panic mode . . .

He was FINE when we went to bed!! WTF happened overnight!?

Maybe he has heat stroke (he’s been inside in the AC!)

Maybe he had a stroke! (oh shit!)

We go downstairs.  Millie’s noticed he’s “not right” and is tormenting him.  He’s struggling to get down the stairs.  He’s struggling to go outside.  He does his business but it’s hard for him to be steady enough to finish.

Bad word, bad word, bad word.  “Prince Charming you are NOT taking Rocky today! I need him more than you do!” was muttered under my breath a lot.  Then I called Lovely Vet and got an appointment to have him take a look at Rocky.  The appointment was at 10:30 am . . . a full two hours AFTER I first noticed the symptoms.

Rocky gave me sad eyes, didn’t want to eat his breakfast, and stayed in front of the AC vent in the kitchen.  He did get up and move around a bit and each time he was less wobbly and steadier on his feet.  I almost cancelled the appointment but decided it was better to be safe than sorry . . .

Off we go to the appointment . . . and Rocky gets into the car like a champ . . . and Rocky explores the yard at the vet’s office and hikes his leg and pees on the flowers in the vet’s flower bed . . . and struts into the vets office like the super star he is . . .

“Darn you, Rocky.  Making a liar out of me!”

I explain the problems I saw earlier today to the lovely vet tech.  He doesn’t laugh at me for being overly cautious.  Lovely vet comes in the room and doesn’t laugh at me for being overly cautious.  Lovely Vet does a full and thorough exam and determines that it’s possibly a simple arthritis flare-up.  Adjusts Rocky’s meds.  Gives him a shot of something to help ease the pain in his joints.  Tells me to come back if things get worse.

Most importantly, he tells me I wasn’t wrong for bringing Rocky to see him . . .

So I apologized to Prince Charming for thinking he wanted to take Rocky . . . when he was actually using Rocky to help me get through what I thought was going to be a rough day.

By the way . . . the added meds and the shot to help Rocky’s joints have worked wonders.  Rocky’s acting like a puppy again . . . and wants to go out to play . . . during an excessive heat warning . . .

Bless his heart

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Goofy Dog

You know it’s gonna be bad when Millie is running to the door to tell on Rocky . . . when all the dogs in the neighborhood are barking their fool heads off and the dog that always has to be in the middle of everything is running to get ME . . .

As I put on Prince Charming’s yard shoes and walked out the back door to see what the commotion was all about I said to myself “Self, this is not gonna be good . . . ”

Yep, well shit . . . this is not good . . . as I came around the corner of the garage and walked toward the back gate I saw Rocky in a stand off with a stupid ground hog . . . make that a very pissed off ground hog.  Well after I said a whole string of bad words (and throwing a shoe at the ground hog) I managed to get Rocky and Millie back toward the house.

I gave Rocky a quick once over and discovered a small puncture wound on his left ear lobe.  Looks like Mama Groundhog got only one good bite in.  That’s good.  Except I can’t get the bleeding to stop.  Well more bad words, and total panic that it might be too late to get Rocky to Lovely Vet’s office and I’ll have to make a trek to Expensive Emergency Clinic.

Quick phone call once I realize it’s not past closing time and off we go to Lovely Vet’s office.  Where we are the last patient of the day . . .

Lovely Vet assured me that it wasn’t serious.  Antibiotic shot, antibiotic pills, pain meds for a week and Rocky should be fine.  Lovely Vet Tech does her best to get the bleeding to stop . . . they use surgical adhesive (super glue!) . . . they even wrapped his ear up in a bandage to keep him from shaking his head . . . he looked like a Russian Grandma.  But nothing helped . . . so I have to keep an eye on him whenever he flips his ear.

He’s going to be fine.  I’m going to be fine . . . eventually.  He scared the crap out of me.  I look like I’ve committed a murder.  The poor vet’s office looked like it was a crime scene.  Who knew an ear would bleed so much!!

Who knew my docile guy would have such a mean streak when it comes to little furry things coming into his yard!

Right now he’s sleeping peacefully at my feet . . . bless his heart . . . and Millie hasn’t left his side since we got back from the vet . . .

It’s been an interesting day.

 

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