Yes, I am alive and well.....tired!

I absolutely cannot believe that October has come and gone, and now November is half over. I have so many thoughts running through my head at all times, (scary, huh?), but don't take the time and sit down to write. How does one get it all done? I've been at a lot of GREAT trainings, presented at a Learning Disabilities conference on ADHD, and spent a lot of time crafting, getting ready for the Pourhouse first annual Craft Fair with Kristy. And going to football games and hosting guests, etc. I love it all, but my 55 year old body ( yes I have joined the AARP ranks , but not the organization) sometimes doesn't keep up with my 25 year old brain. Therein lies the problem.

My profound thought for this morning is how does a dog decide what is the perfect place to do its business? I lovingly took my daughter's dog for a walk this morning so she could sleep in, ( substitute teaching is hard work, plus her foot has been very painful), and I traipsed the mongrel all over the park as she sniffed and squatted, and sniffed and squatted and then decided to move on. Eight times. I'm glad no one was watching her pull me from spot to spot and she searched for the elusive perfect place. She finally assumes the position, I anxiously await the final product, and the collection bag doesn't open. No perforation, no hole, no nothing. Just one solid piece of plastic seamed shut from end to end. Figures. Thankfully I had a spare and all was gathered and we happily trotted home.

Next week I'm sleeping in. Hugs!

I need to accept the facts

OK. For years now I have been referring to the dog in our house as my daughter's dog. She's the one who begged for it, promised to take care of it, etc. We got the dog when she was a junior (in Dec.) in high school. Year and a half later she goes off to college. For four years, working in Michigan for the summers. So guess who gets to take care of the dog? Her sister, my husband and I. Three years later her sister goes to college in Ohio, my husband takes a job in Canada for eight months, and I am left with the dog. Just me and the dog. And I don't even like dogs.

Somehow , by default, I have become this dog's caretaker. I feed her, walk her and clean the gunk out of her ears. (Triple yucko). She waits for ME to take her out, even when there are now other people in the house. I keep reminding myself that someday, Kelly will get a job and be able to take the dog to live with her. No more black hairs all over the house! No more underwear and socks in the middle of the living room! No more growling when my husband (or anyone) wants to hug me- (she's very protective).

We were discussing this at dinner tonight. I mentioned that I really may have to come to the realization and accept the fact that I now have a dog. Kelly may not want to (or be able to) take her with her, and despite the fact that I'm not really attached to her, the dog's attached to me. It may break her heart to not have the park to run in, the squirrels and birds to chase, the neighbor kids to love on her.
The college grad student that lives with us had the astute awareness to say, " I'd only been here two weeks when I realized that Abbie may be Kelly's dog, but YOU are her human." Great.

So now I am an animal's human. I'm still working on accepting that fact.

First tears

Our youngest off to college, in another state three hours away, our middle child in school and hour and a half away, and our "eldest" child (as my mom calls me), 22 hours away in Utah, we are finally in the world of empty nesters. Our chicks have left the nest. But wait, my husband gets a job in CANADA- 20 hours north, a different country even. He doesn't even own a passport. So I am here in the empty nest and my husband flies the coop. All I am left with is the dog. And I don't even like the dog. Never wanted a dog, am stuck with the dog. More on her later.

I thought I would relish the time of no schedules (other than being at work on time), no responsibilities (other than the aforementioned dog), no pressures to do anything I didn't want to do because someone else needed me to do it. ( I love the phrase, your failure to plan is not my emergency. Somehow my kids and husband never quite got that idea. I was often running ambulances).

Thankful for wonderful neighbors and friends, I always had someplace to go when I needed a break from the tranquility and silence of my home. I had no ballgame I had to rush to, dinners to make, or mounds of laundry or dishes to wash. I was happy go lucky and free to do whatever I wanted. May sound heavenly to some moms that would love to be able to go to the bathroom by themselves for 3 minutes. ( The dog still won't let me- she nudges in to make sure I haven't fallen in I guess, peeking around the door.)

I remember the moment vividly. I was sitting in the parking lot of Kroger, having just gone to the grocery for the first time since my house had been evacuated. Sobbing uncontrollably. (Not over the cost of groceries, my husband had a job at the time remember.) I realized that for the first time in my life I had grocery shopped just for ME, and I was going home to live ALONE!! I had never lived alone in my life. From high school, I went to college, after college, I moved back home until I got married. I had never lived alone. And now after having raised three kids I was going to be living by myself and cooking for one. ( Or not- I ate a lot of cereal). No more thinking about what cereal to buy for whom, what to get so my picky youngest would eat something other than peanut butter and jelly. No more thinking about anyone else's choices but mine. I could buy the expensive things I had always glossed over as they would cost too much for more than one. But now I was one , and I could buy whatever I wanted! But I didn't want to. I would have much rather been buying for five, and cooking up big pots of chili, and gobs of cheesy potatoes. And not eating cereal for dinner.

Advice to harried moms? Enjoy the rat race. Embrace family dinners. Love leftovers. Hug your kids even when they only eat PBJs. And get yourself a dog. Most likely, it will stick around when everyone else flies away.