Cursed Christmas

Oh no!  That dreaded time of year has reared its ugly head again! 

I wish I could say that this time of year fills me with happiness and a feeling of goodwill towards my fellow man.  Instead it makes me want to clutch my pocketbook to my breast and hang on for dear life!  It also makes me groan  when I think of the extra work that needs to be done to decorate, shop and bake in preparation for the big event.  And then there is the event.  Organized chaos!  Luckily my sister manages that for the most part since she hosts every year.  She’s allergic to my dog and has a much larger house than I do so it’s just the way it’s been for years.  YAY Stacey!!  Thank you for saving me from some of the chaos!!

The one good thing about it is I get a day off with holiday pay.  Meh.  It’s something. 

This year I have been making my credit cards weep in agony as I try to get my house into compliance for sale.  (Joy of living in a mobile home - another pack of folks who get to boss you around aka the Park Office) I REALLY want to get it sold and get on with my life!  I feel like it’s a weight around my neck right now and it’s strangling me a bit.  (When I let myself feel all dramatic about it, which I do sometimes.)  So here comes Christmas.  The season of gift giving.  yay.  I really get what Scrooge felt about it!  The last time I felt the “magic” of Christmas I was a little kid and my Mom was the one groaning through all the work to make it magical for me.  Thanks Mom!  That was the best time of my life and I was too stupid to know it!  Then I grew up and it became my job and the party was over.  Dammit!  I keep telling my grandkids not to be in such a hurry to grow up.  It isn’t that great!  Think they’ll listen?  Of course not.  They never do.

So now I’m trying to figure out how to afford gifts for my loved ones while avoiding making my checkbook/credit cards begin to rend their garments in agony.  It doesn’t help that I don’t have a clue what to get for anyone this year and that giving everyone money would be tacky as well as looking bad to have nothing but envelopes under the tree.  Tempting though because boy oh boy, would it simplify my life to do it that way!  I need to PONDER what they might like that’s cheap.  I don’t have time to ponder!  I tend to fill that time reading books (bad habit I know).  I should probably make myself leave the books alone and just sit and ponder a while.  I wonder if that would help?  Knowing me, I’d zone out and not accomplish anything.  Or I’d wander off because I thought of something I had to do. 

So I’m stuck with the gift giving festival conundrum.  Bah Humbug!

And then there’s the decorating.  Last year I gave away my crappy fake tree and didn’t decorate at all.  Penelope was too little to care and Brooke & Ariana were in WA with their Dad so they didn’t care either.  I didn’t care – it was great!  Now, since I Penelope is old enough to notice and the girls are here this year, I feel like I should decorate but I’ve given myself an out.  Lee (daughter I donated crappy fake tree to) may or may not use my tree.  Her boyfriend wants a real one.  If they get a real one, I’ll take my crappy fake tree back and decorate it and be a good grandma with a festive house for the kids to visit.  If they decide to save some $’s and use the tree, gosh, grandma is off the hook!  Weirdly tho, I’ll feel a bit bad if I’m off the hook.  My grandparents always had things looking festive for us when we visited.  I feel like I’m dropping the ball on this one.  But I’m also too poor (see above) to purchase another crappy fake tree so that’s that.

So my house may or may not be decorated.  And either has drawbacks.  Bah Humbug!

And finally there is the baking.  Now normally I LOVE baking!  I really do!  But this is baking that becomes almost like work because there is so much of it.  And it has to be done by a certain time so it can be shipped in time to get to loved ones before the holidays.  Pressure.  GAH!  Plus ingredients aren’t free (see above). 

There is another piece to this issue for me.  I’m trying to lose weight.  My natural state seems to be fat and if I don’t diet constantly I revert to fat.  Sadly I’ve reverted to fat again so must fend it off.  So I’m back to dieting AND I’m supposed to bake a billion cookies.  All those good smells and flavors surrounding me for days and days!  And I’m supposed to diet.  Yeah right.

Diets kill joy. 

I wish I liked being slim more than I like eating yummy food!  Alas, that is not the case.  Would solve some problems if it was. 

Why can’t anything that tastes so good be good for you?  Why am I stuck munching on freaking celery as a snack???  Why the hell can’t the cookies I bake be a healthy option?  Because it’s a sin.  Yes, cookies are sin incarnate.  Anything that makes you happy and feels good is sinful and bad for you.  Christmas cookies are sin incarnate – leading you into temptation and indulging in one of the 7 deadly sins, GLUTTONY!!!  Think about it folks!  Life isn’t fair.  If life was fair, ice cream would be diet food. 

I don’t know if I’m going to resist GLUTTONY well.  I rather like sinning sometimes!  Most of the time in all honesty.  I'm a bad seed.  I may have to give in to my dark side if I’m going to enjoy this holiday season at all…JS

The fat/diet/cookie/sin thing makes me bitter.  Bah Humbug!

Gratitude List

I think it was my daughter who recommended a blog that talked about being thankful.  I don't remember exactly what it said but I think it suggested writing about what you're thankful for each day.  I thought it would be an interesting exercise.  I'm now on day 5 and it is doing more good for me than I expected!

Day one, I wrote about the joy I feel, just because I am lucky enough to get to walk this magnificent planet.  Then I jotted down a list of 21 topics I could write about in the coming days.  I decided to commit to this and I would make my posts each day on facebook.  So they had to be fairly short and to the point.  I hoped I wouldn't annoy anyone! 

Next I wrote about being grateful to have been born an American.  Especially since I'm female and not every country is as progressive as the USA when it comes to women and their rights!

Those were pretty easy topics.  I was pondering my list the next day.  I was grumpy.  My dog Bruiser had given me a bit of a circus the night before and had been harassing me all day long.  Following me around, barking at me for attention.  He was one of the items on my list and I decided that this would be a good moment to think about why I was grateful to have Bruiser in my life.  It helped me focus on the positives he has brought to me!  I was able to be more forgiving of his annoying behaviors after.  I also gave myself the reminder that he is getting senile, he is deaf and I'm his only social outlet most of the time. I have remembered to be patient and to think more of him than myself when he seems to be getting in the way.  I'm also trying to figure out how to stop him from barking whenever I get on the phone!  That behavior is driving me nuts!

Last night I decided to write about my love of books since I'd been fretting about my lack of them lately and then when I bought one, it turned out to be rather lame.  I'm still wading thru it because, hey, it's a book!  There are some point of view issues and it's a rather stuffy period piece but I'm determined to get thru it.

Today I was trying to think of what to write and realized tonight it would be about my Dad.  My daughter pointed out that maybe I should share what I wrote with him.  I think she's right.  I think I'll copy what I wrote and then flesh it out a bit.  We all love to hear good things that our loved ones think of us!

One of the unexpected side effects to this is that now my head is busy considering what I'll write about the other items on my gratitude list.  It's creating a lot of positive energy in me that hasn't been there for a while!  I've been struggling with some changes at work, struggling with my own sense of worth.  Stressing about getting my house to market.  Stressing about what will happen after it's sold!  I've been in a fairly negative place for a while now.  This exercise has turned out to be just what the imaginary doctor ordered as far as turning my attitude around!  I'm now focused on thinking about people I love and things that I value and how I'm going to share them with my friends and family.

You'll be seeing something from me on my facebook each day.  Something I'm grateful for.  All the way to Thanksgiving! I think this is good for me!

Hurt

Oh man!  I can't believe I woke up writing this in my head this AM!  Three things came together from last night and stewed I guess.  I was You Tubing last night.  I decided to listen to one of my favorite songs/videos.  Hurt by Johnny Cash.  It makes me feel like crying every time I see it.  I was curious so I looked up the Nine Inch Nails version.  Not as good in my opinion but coming from a different place.  I get that.  NIN was about drugs and a bad place he was for a time.  Johnny Cash made it about his entire life.  He was examining his life and coming up short.  So both are painful and personal but one is bigger than the other.  The writer (forgot his name and too lazy to google right now, I'm on a roll) said he was moved that Cash chose to do his song and that he also felt Cash took it to a new level.  He didn't feel the song was his any longer. 

Then I caboodled around in You Tube a bit longer.  Decided to see if there was anything by any Orviks in there (my last name) and found the book my Uncle Chuck wrote called "The Brothers' Keepers".  It's about his and my father's and their brother's childhood.  It's fictionalized because he was a kid and can't remember everything exactly, plus the publisher told him that no one would believe it was true.  He adjusted the stories to make them less factual but they are familiar and I've grown up hearing about them.  I hadn't known about the level of neglect they experienced.  It was an eye opener!  The other eye opener was how similar my siblings and I were to my Uncle and his brothers.  We were both feral packs, tho his was more feral for more reasons.  We didn't trust authority because it had rarely done anything for us to earn our trust.  We counted on each other.  On a level that is unusual.  I have a profound love for my siblings.  Every one of them.  They are my best, most trusted friends in the world.  Even when we fight, they still are my very closest people.  Even when we go long spans of being busy and not connecting by phone or email or whatnot, we are connected.  We all feel that way about each other too.  My world is ok as long as they are in the world with me.  They are people I need.  They know me like my parents never will and my kids never will.  They lived my life with me.  We all went thru it together.  We were the only ones we could truly trust back then.  The others failed us regularly.  When abuse happens and no one saves you, even when you TELL them the abuse is happening, they tell you that you are imagining it, well, you learn a few things about the world.  So we helped each other as much as we could.

Weirdly, I've raised another pack.  My kids had to survive the life I gave them and I failed to protect them like I should have sometimes.  It wasn't all bad either but there were some hard parts.  They depend on each other and I see similar dynamics with the three of them.  On the one hand I'm sorry they needed to become a pack because it indicates trauma, but on the other hand I absolutely love how much they love each other.  Yin and Yang again.  Keeps repeating.  In my case and my children's case, I think the sense of connected gained was worth the trauma incurred to create the connection.

Anyway, I'm veering off the path I was following when I woke up this AM.  I was thinking about where I've come from.  Like Cash did in his rendition of Hurt.  My life.  My regrets.  And while I love that song because it reminds me that you don't go thru life without regret, I know I wouldn't have changed any of it.  The good, the bad, the ugly.  There are good things that came out of all the bad things.  The somewhat tough childhood.  I say somewhat because it was pretty good in some ways also.  I'd really hate for people to think my childhood was terrible.  It wasn't.  It had some pretty hard ass stuff in it but also love and fun.  The tough parts showed me my strength and taught me to think for myself and trust my instincts.  They taught me that I have to take care of myself and not trust others to do it.  Those times showed me I was stronger and more resilient than I thought.

It also gave me my sister and brothers in a way that is precious to me.  I have a man now, that I love in such a different way than I've loved before.  I've lived some years now and appreciate our connection for how very unique and special it is.  In a way he's healed me.  He is a retired cop.  I told him my story...some of the things I'd experienced and if he had been the cop back then and if he'd been someone I'd turned to for help, I may be more trusting of authority at this stage of my life.  I know his history also and he has become my hero.  He probably would have mixed feelings about me calling him my hero since he doesn't feel heroic about himself - he knows his own dark side - but to me he is, despite and maybe because of that dark side in a way.  I know the good, the bad and the ugly about him.  He is my soul mate.  He's weirdly like me despite our differing backgrounds. I feel safe with him.  I feel loved and protected.  There is nothing about me that I would feel I had to hide from him.  I'm accepted.  Good, bad, ugly and I have plenty going on in all three departments.  But even with all that, he is relatively new to my circle of trust.  There are 3 other people who know me on a whole other level because of shared experience, trust and love.  They've been the ones who had my back throughout my life. 

Sometimes you must pay a price for the life you live.  There is no guarantee that life is easy.  That if it isn't, you're doing something wrong.  Life IS a challenge!  It's complex and it isn't easy and out of that you gain some wonderful lessons if you are wise enough to pay attention.

So back to the Hurt song and my Uncle's story to close this up...I have regrets, but I wouldn't change a thing.  I'll live with those regrets.  I'll feel remorse for the people I've hurt along the way.  But those needle stings are part of my life.  I'll own my life.  All of it.  It brought me here to this moment with all the feelings and lessons learned along the way.  I'm part of a circle.  Even tho my story is unique I've become a parent and understood what that meant to my parents.  I've become a grandparent and understand what that meant to my grandparents.  I will become elderly and understand how that feels.  I will die and if I have time to think about it first, I'll understand how that feels.  And I'll find out if there is something beyond this life or not.  If not, I'll never know the difference.  I suspect there is because I believe I've been "visited" by loved ones who have passed.  But I don't know.  I'll deal with what I do know for as long as I'm here.  Living my life and hopefully having enough wisdom to savor it as much as possible!

The relationships I've made with people, how REAL they are with those chosen few, have been profound for me.  THAT is what my life is really all about.  It's not about having things or a career, it's about those relationships.

I'm on a journey until I die.  I will be alone in the way that we all are alone.  We can share our lives with others but in the end, only we will experience our personal journey through our own eyes.  Our perceptions will be our own.  I'm unique.  It's weird to be unique in the same way everyone else is but we are all unique because no one can see what we've seen, conceptualize it the same way, experience it the same way.  I think back on my life and think WOW!  And then I'm excited to see what comes next! 

I like a lot of this but it meanders :)  What can I say?  I woke up writing it in my head!

I'm fat with an ugly, dying wart on my knee and housing updates

I went to the doctor yesterday.  I skipped that last year for the lamest of reasons.  Shame.  I didn't want to step on the scale and see my official weight.  This year, I didn't want to step on that scale either but figured I couldn't let my health go completely to hell because I'm fat and haven't done enough to counteract it. 

It was anti-climactic in the end.  I wasn't as fat as I thought but wasn't close to slim enough to be proud of anything either.  Duh.  My doctor didn't even scold me about it. 

I got shots in both arms so now my shoulders are sore.  In fact, they are the reason I gave up on sleeping this AM and got up before my alarm.  I like to sleep on my side and it didn't matter which I tried, it was uncomfortable.  On the good side, I got to work really early so therefore I will leave really early.  Makes me happy :)

This morning I got an eyeful of the wart on the side of my knee that got treated yesterday.  HOLY CRAP!!  Having it as a nice quiet wart looked a ton better than it does now that it's a big red angry dying wart!  So glad it's not shorts season right now!  The doc warned me about pus that could ooze from it in the coming days.  This could be perfect timing for Halloween!  Maybe I'll just come to work with my wart showing and gross everyone out!  Maybe it'll be pussy (pronounce that correctly or else!) and green or black or something by then?  Maybe it'll look like gangrene?  Or I could claim it is the start of a zombie virus that's attacking my system and it will spread?  Things to ponder...

There is possibly some news on the home front.  Well there is and there is some more possibly.  The factual stuff is that progress has been made!  The house has been painted.  The baseboards have been replaced and painted and caulked.  Tomorrow I start painting soffits.  yay.  Standing on a ladder for hours with my hands above my head.  yay.  The gap between the baseboards and skirting has been closed.  Looks good!  I still have work to do but am making progress and feel pretty good about how it's all looking.  Woo Hoo!

Now for the possible news.  Nick and Lee are thinking about buying the place.  I have mixed feelings about this.  One the one hand, it'd be so great to sell the house without even putting it on the market.  I'd be another step on the way to my goal!  On the other hand, HOLY CRAP!!  Yeah, I say that a lot lately but it's how I'm feeling a lot too. 

I haven't moved in almost 15 years so the thought of pulling up stakes is freaking me out a bit.  I was expecting to spend a comfortable winter here and switch to fixing things up inside, then back to outside work in the spring.  My plans could be right out the window!  If they do decide to take it over, I'll be moving to a new space by Dec 1st.  Moving in Dec does NOT thrill me in the slightest.  The timing of that could cause some issues for my later plans.  Ick!

I'm doing the debate of trying to find some one's basement or something to live in for 3-4 mos so I can time a lease right.  So far I'm not coming up with any feasible options. 

I considered talking to my sister about staying in her basement and paying her some rent but she's allergic to my dog so that's out. 

Then I considered the back room at my friend Kim's (she offered) but she has a cat (I have allergies to those) and a large dog that Bruiser does NOT like and the long commute to work would be hellish this winter so that option is out. 

I think I'm probably stuck finding a place to rent and hoping it all works out ok. 

If they decide not to take the place over, I proceed with my original plan, I will feel calmer and the house will get sold anyway.  Since they think it's good enough to seriously consider AND they know its good points and bad, I have more confidence in my ability to sell it once it hits the market. 

dullness

Tonight I feel dulled.  Muted.  It was a long day.  Didn't get home until after 7.  Dog crapped on the floor.  Was frantic to eat his supper.  So was I!  Cleaned up his mess, got my work clothes off.  My butt was wet.  I did an emergency rescue of Lacey & Penelope after Lacey's car decided not to start.  While Lacey was putting the car seat in the back and I was chatting with Penelope, her water cup spilled all over the car seat.  So I had a wet butt.  I didn't enjoy it.  So I wanted to change.  Bruiser about had a stroke over it.  He didn't think there was any reason good enough to delay his supper.  It was 2 hrs late after all.  Unacceptable!

I tore around my house tidying up all the stuff I didn't tidy up yesterday.  I did some laundry.  I washed the dirty dishes (quite a mountain by this time).  Then I sat down to look at facebook and froze.  I feel a bit zombie-like.  I think I need to sleep soon.  So I can get up and do it again.  Slight variations but all the same.  I'm slogging down now.  As I type.  Should probably give this up and go to bed.  For some reason I thought something good might come out of this.  I was mistaken.

feeling muffled is the only way to tolerate life right now

It's allergy season again with a vengeance!  I haven't had such a miserable allergy season in quite a while.  I'm drugged up right now on cold medicine because my allergy meds weren't helping.  I'm muffled. 

My right ear has been plugged since last night.  It did open up breifly this AM and I did a little dance of joy but then it plugged back up again.  You gotta take those joyous moments when you can!

Yesterday was a high point for me.  I thought I was getting past it and then it gave me it's hardest hit yet!  I had the lovely sinus drip going steady.  Nose is raw/chapped from the visits with kleenex every 5 minutes or less.  My throat is raw from the drip and the bizarre contortions I'm doing with the back of my throat in my attempts to scratch what's itching back in there.  Finally felt like some blisters popped so I really need to knock the throat contortions off today.  When I forget and try to do them, I get some painful reminders!  The itch is less of a problem than the pain I get from trying to releive the itch at this point.

The cold medicine has finally slowed the drip.  I was experiencing itchy eyelashes (yes, eyelashes) and that's not happening today (yay!!!)  Yay for cold medicine that makes my symptoms ease and relaxes me enough that I don't care as much about what it doesn't ease!

I don't really mind being muffled.  It's rather nice and peaceful in this muffly place!  Until I can wake up and feel like my normal self, this muffled place makes life tolerable.  Yesterday it wasn't.  Yesterday I hit a new level of crabby over this.  I hate having allergies!  There is no escape.  It's your body and you can't get away from it.  Well I supposed you could commit suicide but that would be really stupid.  So, short of suicide, you can't get away from it.  Unlike a cold, it can go on for weeks.  Wait, I've had colds that went on for weeks.  Maybe a cold isn't better.  Regardless, with a cold you have the outside chance that you'll feel better in 7-10 days.  Allergies can go on for weeks!  When the snow flies I should be safe but it's only friggin' 9/5/12 so that's potentially a lot of suffering if it actually takes that long!

Shit.

Mi familia :)

 

 

 

Magic Mike movie review

Last Friday I got the thought in my head that my sister and I should live on the edge a bit and go see the movie "Magic Mike".  I was pretty excited for a girl's night out!  Most of the time, since I'm trying to pay down credit and seem to be chronically short on fun money, I sit at home and either read or watch the TV.  My life is rather dull most of the time.  The happy flip side to this is that when I do plan something I tend to get pretty excited about it!

Here's what I enjoyed about the movie.  (crickets chirping)







Ok, it wasn't that bad (Harley Davidson & the Marlboro Man was worse) but it was equivalent to a cold shower for my libido. 

My interest in that sort of thing apparently has not improved with age.  Back in the day I would occassionally go to male strip shows with some girlfriends.  I loved having an excuse to get away from my kids and my normal life for an evening!  But the strippers...errgh...well they were mostly good looking!  I'll say that for them.  But they were silly.  Men in thongs and legwarmers are silly looking.  (Leg warmers show you just how long ago it was that I last went to one of these shows!)

Men don't make interesting strippers.  At least to me they don't.  It's just not a very manly thing to do!  I do enjoy looking at a pretty man but if one is dancing around in a thong it's all I can do not to laugh!  They look good when they pose for pictures don't they?  I did laugh plenty at Magic Mike.  Probably at inappropriate times but whatevs...it was my $10 so I can do what I want!

There was one thing that was very distracting (one thing, right) and that was the size of Matthew McConaughey's head.  He has a rather large head in comparison to his tiny little body.  And his legs are kinda short.  Or is this just me?  Maybe it was just the hat?  He is in good shape.  I'll give him that.  (see <----)

The camera work on him wasn't kind for the most part.  Made him look like he isn't aging well, despite the fit bod.  But that was probably on purpose since he wasn't playing a super sweetheart, cutie patootie. 

I'll be honest with you...I felt super repulsed when they would pull women on the stage and dry hump their faces!  I'm familiar with the scent of a man in that region.  The thought of some strange dude, who's sweaty, dry humping my face on a stage would probably get him punched hard in the nut sac!  I was grimacing thru that part.  I'm grimacing writing about it right now! 

I'm honestly not a prude.  Ask Ken!  On second thought, don't.  That's our business.  Anyway, you'll have to take my word for it.  I'm not a prude but that was going a little far.  I'm eternally grateful that the strippers I saw back in the day only went for kisses.  Sure they'd straddle you sometimes to grant them but they kept their mouths closed and didn't try to dry hump your face.  I never realized, until this movie, that I even should be grateful for that but hey, I really am! 

There was one part that caught my attention and made me wonder.  There was a scene where a dialog was going on and you could see a penis being pumped in the corner of the shot.  They made sure you noticed by having the new kid in the movie stare at it, mesmerized.  And you could see it stretching down the tube.  I kept wondering what was the point of that?  I think it was to stretch it the hell out for a later shot but wouldn't that be damaging?  Wouldn't it hurt?  It looked like it should hurt!

The last time I went to a stripper show I realized I couldn't go again.  Because I found it ridiculous.  And I didn't want to hurt any guy's feelings by laughing at him when he wiggled over so's I could put a dollar in his thong.  And I really, really didn't want a kiss!  REALLY!!  Ick.  I try to be polite.  If I can't then...

I find watching women strip to be far more interesting to watch.  I used to go now and again when I was in my 20's. I think I was trying to prove how cool and uninhibited I was. No, I'm not a latent lesbian.  Tho I'd probably be pretty good at it if I was!  I mean, girls know what girls like right?  Thing is they are missing some parts I happen to really enjoy but I get it.  I have yet to find a woman that I'm attracted to like that.  Except for Michelle Malkin.  I might become a temporary lesbian like Anne Heche for that one!   

The thing about it is, that I can imagine myself doing what the lady strippers are doing and when I'm in the right frame of mind I find it to be pretty titillating.  (let me point out the poetic use of titillating :)  I can't imagine myself being one of those dudes on the stage though, and nothing they're doing up there is making me want to bang them or bang my honey either.  So girl strippers are the winner if I'm gonna go to a strip show!  YAY!  Or not, since I don't go to strip shows anymore.  I can just stay home and have a cold shower if I want to kill my libido!  I don't need to pay a cover charge to do it!  Older and wiser.  Except for Friday night.  I wonder how many years it'll be before I get the stupid notion that I need to see a strip show again? 

sitting alone in the dark

I was just playing with my webcam and got into special effects and this made me think of A-Ha "Take me on" so I got the music off You Tube and filmed this stupid movie :)

OMG I'm a dork!!  If only Ken could pop thru a comic book to hang out with me!!

videos/pictures

This is Bruiser ignoring me while he takes a nap.  He likes to put his head into spaces to limit what he sees.  I find it mildly insulting.

 No lips!

Here's me thinking I'm being kinda weird.  And I still haven't put on any make-up this AM.  Debating if I will.  I may take a nap.  Also haven't put on a bra.  Seems stupid to suffer in a bra when it's just me and my dog.  Tho on occasion people pop over and I have to run into my room and put a bra on.  I wish people would warn me before they come over so I can have a bra on when they arrive!

 

I was trying to take a picture of myself...turns out the camera was set for video. My face looks weirdly red!  This was my first picture of the day!

Batman Premiere shooting

Woke up to the news that some jackass decided that a Batman movie premiere was a great place to randomly shoot people.  What the hell???  I'm sickened by this.  Yet I know this kind of crap has been going on for hundreds of years.  Well, maybe not in movie theaters at Batman premieres, but you know, where one or more sick fucks decide they are pissed at the world or suicidal and can't just take themselves deep...they feel a compulsion to spread their misery far and wide. 

I don't understand.

I guess I don't understand because I would never, in my wildest dreams, do something like this.  The mindset behind it is alien to me and most people.  This was clearly planned out in advance.  They said that some of the guns used could have been planted earlier.  He has tear gas.  Where does one get tear gas?  So he heard about the Batman premiere and decided THIS would be the perfect event for him to corner a bunch of innocents and torture/kill them for his own amusement. 

I sometimes wish that we were more barbaric.  If this sick fuck knew that when he was caught, he would be tied up and slowly shot and cut up and tortured to death for a period of several hours/days, maybe he would have thought twice and just taken himself deep and limited the suffering to his own family.  Those poor people! 

Can you imagine having a mass murderer for a brother or son or father or lover?  How painful!  You love them and yet...how do you even begin to wrap your head around that! 

And who could tolerate inflicting the death I just described?  That would be another horror.  Unless we could make these guys do it to each other.  Line them up.  When the next one comes along, the earlier one dies at the new guy's hands.  They have already murdered.  Make them murder their own kind.  Then make them pray that no one else does the same thing because they're next.  It's a thought!

This is a terrible day for many in CO.  It is the start of many more terrible days to follow.  My heart goes out to all of the families and friends of the victims in the CO shootings this morning.

SBD Santa Claus

Yesterday I made yet another "epic" journey to Salt Lake City, UT, to see my man, Ken.  I started the day with a crooked back and high hopes that my chiropractor would be able to fix me first thing in the AM so I could go blissfully thru the rest of my day and then my 10 day vacation.  Didn't exactly work out.  Marginal improvement was made.  It was something.

One of the things I did to myself was to offer to bring a (this) laptop with me on vacation so I could work a bit and try to keep up on things.  I would do this if they paid for me to check my bag.  They agreed.  So I was happy because I got to bring the bigger suitcase YAY!  And sad because I wasn't going to be totally on vacation.  But mostly so I'll stop whining about it now. 

I had the great idea to take the train from work to the airport.  Never did that before.  It was kind of cool!  I'll do it again someday!  Saw some new views of Mpls and got to smell a little BO.  It was hot and the guy sitting in front of me liked putting his arms up.  So I breathed shallowly.  I survived. 

First leg into DFW was great!  I was a special passenger and got an entire row of 3 seats all to myself!!  Felt like a rock star :)  Except for the fact that I was 2 rows away from the bathrooms and that got a little fragrant now and again.  This trip was turning out to be fragrant.  When you go out amongst the people it gets like that.

So I get into DFW.  Sigh.  You almost need stamina training at some airports.  I came in at the D gates.  My next flight left from the C gates so I started walking.  They could use a LOT more moving walkways at DFW!!  JS!!  So I walked and walked.  And I started really hating this lunky, heavy laptop.  I went up the escalator and walked.  Then down another escalator and walked.  Then walked over a highway in a skyway.  Then more escalators.  Then a tram.  Then another escalator.  And then...(drumroll) my gate!  It said the flight was going to Orlando.  I was a bit early tho Orlando might have been nice.  I had 2 hrs to wait.  My back was aching from carrying the damned laptop all over kingdom come.  I was in crabby bitch mode.  I was wondering why my work didn't use those cute little notebook type laptops instead of these 50 lb behemoths!  50 lb behemoths should automatically come with wheels so people with crappy backs can drag them around on the floor behind them!  Ok, so it's not 50 lbs but my back was sore and I was being a pussy about it.

I thought I found a McDonalds to eat at but was detoured by the pretzel offerings at Auntie Anne's.  I did not eat a well balance diet yesterday.  That pretzel was the best thing I ate all day!

So I finally get on the plane.  Some guy who looks like Santa Claus has hijacked my seat.  He's giving me this look and I figure if he wants the  window seat that fucking bad, go for it!  So I took the middle. 

I would like to say that whoever designed those seats should be taken out and shot!!  They have NO lumbar support.  In fact, they force you into a hunched position.  I was fantasizing about how wonderful it would be if only I had a big fat pillow to slip back there so my back wouldn't hurt! 

Santa Claus was a sprawler.  He splayed his legs out.  He took over the arm rest.  I hunkered over to my left as much as I can.  I'm no tiny petunia myself so let's say I didn't get too far left. 

Santa tried to strike up a conversation.  I gave monosylabic responses and he finally left me alone.  I'm not a good conversationalist when I'm suffering and crabby!  I'm rather anti-social in good circumstances. 

Last night was the night for people to bring their cranky, exhausted little kids on the flight.  We were swarmed with them!  I lost track of which kid was crying when.  Poor little dudes!  I was a little jealous because if I was like them I could have been throwing a tantrum to the attendants about the shitty seat designs and how my back really hurt!  I could have cried and moaned and vented!  Instead I just had a lengthy bitch stream running in my brain.  Let's just say the F word popped up regularly. 

So I finally found a relatively comfy spot (oh gag,,.Baby just took a shit in the cat box and I caught a whiff...gag!) by curling forward with my elbows on the little fold down table, holding my head in my hands.  I was doing this really well apparently because I dozed off.  I know I dozed off because the woman on my left accidentally bumped me and I almost jumped out of my skin in startlement! 

Well I squirmed all thru that 2 hour flight, trying to keep my back from being too miserable.  I was actually praying (gag, caught another whiff) that the flight would end soon and I'm an agnostic!  But at that point, I was desperate and figured it couldn't hurt.  Lucky for me, if God is there, that he wasn't pissed at me for being agnostic and answered my prayer with a flaming plane wreck!

All these whiffs are reminding me of the last little part of my flight.  The time when Santa Claus decided to start dealing some SBD's.  Silent, but deadlies.  Holy Hell!!  I tried my best not to breathe!  We were coming in for a landing when he started up.  I couldn't look out the window because that would have meant facing into the vile cloud of stench!  Ken asked me if I saw the fires when I landed and I had to tell him I couldn't because of the horrible stench from the guy next to me...I was wondering if he crapped his pants or something?  I wondered if the folks around me thought I did it?  (another whiff...gag...when will this kitty litter kick into action??)

Well my semi-crippled ass is in UT now.  Relax!  We head for ND tomorrow.  I have a day of rest.  So far work has been quiet.  I like that!

my dog has a wardrobe, but no booties!

You may have noticed that Bruiser was wearing a blue hoodie in my last post.  My Mom got that for him shortly after one of his haircuts because she thought he looked cold.  I moved into another zone I'd never been in before...a dog with a wardrobe.

Bruiser is already prissy enough in certain ways.  He doesn't like walking on grass because it pokes his feet.  He won't run in fields.  When he gets tired he lays down...doesn't matter if you're in the middle of a walk.  If you want to keep walking you get to carry him!  He is a fussy eater.  If someone at a petstore offers him a treat, he will politely take it and just as politely set it on the floor.  He won't eat it.  It's not one of his pre-approved treats.  He has very few of those and they tend not to offer them as freebies.  He doesn't have much use for other dogs.  Bruiser is kind of a pain.  And now he has "outfits".

The blue hoodie was the beginning of a collection.  He has a green sweater with leaves embroidered on it.  He has a black top with a skull on it somewhere tho I haven't seen it for a while.  Maybe some other dog got jealous and took it.  He has a few collars...there's a Halloween themed collar on the floor in my living room right now for some strange reason.  I think Penelope was playing with it on her last visit a week or so ago.  Shows how often I clean.

Once Lacey dressed him up as a clown for Halloween.  He looked ridiculous and not terribly thrilled about it!  Lucky for him that costume was a bit small so they didn't leave it on him for long.

Bruiser doesn't mind wearing sweatshirts/sweaters.  He even seems to enjoy them!  But I found out where he draws the line one winter.  He doesn't tolerate cold well so on the rare occasion I'd take him for walks in the winter, he would end up crying fairly quickly and trying to walk without putting his feet on the ground.  Would have been funny if it wasn't for the fact that he was really not having any fun!

I got the bright idea to get some booties for him to wear so the cold couldn't hurt his feet!  Ran to Petsmart and picked some nice ones out and came home all excited to try them out!

Let's just say that Bruiser HATED the booties!  With a mad passion!!  Surprisingly he cooperated until I got 2 of them on his front paws. Then he staggered around a bit (dogs walk REALLY funny in booties...or at least Bruiser does).  He finally lay down and wouldn't walk anymore.  He was trying to chew them off.  Frustrated, I decided to take them off before he ruined them and he bit me!  This was a shock because Bruiser doesn't bite his people.  He'll bite other dogs but not his people.  So I had to wrestle those booties off him and avoid some flashing tiny teeth doing it!  Luckily for me he's a rather pussy biter, which makes me wonder what kind of pussies those groomers were who couldn't handle him for a haircut!

Bruiser will never be a bootie wearing dog.

My discount puppy

I have a hairy family member named Bruiser.  He's been with my family for the last 13 years.  He was a discount puppy.  I'd been shopping for a certain type of dog with a certain kind of hair (I have allergies) and found a breeder.  She called to let me know she had 3, 6 month old puppies at half price if I wanted to come take a look at them.  They weren't the breed I wanted but had the right hair type so I went to meet them.  They were Shi-tzu/Maltese mixes.  They were all freshly bathed when we showed up.  They didn't look good...they were still dripping wet.  My oldest daughter completely fell in love with one right off the bat.  I was relieved because at least that one didn't have an overbite like his brothers.  I remember thinking that I never thought I'd have a dog like that.  A little hairball type. Not exactly my style but I missed having dogs since my allergies developed so had limited options to choose from anymore.  We brought the little hairball home. 

My wary purchase of this pup changed the rest of my life.  I grew up with dogs.  Normal dogs.  Dogs that like to run in fields.  (Maybe I shouldn't say normal...our English Setter, Commander, used to go into perfect points at tricycles.)

Here he is with the kids shortly after I brought him home.  It was around Xmas time so he would have been 1 year old when this was taken.  My youngest, Ben, (red head) is now 22 years old.

Bruiser has health issues.  He has overactive sebaceous glands.  He can get oozing sores from this and it requires regular bathing to remove excess oils from his skin.  I've also discovered that removing corn meal from his diet really helps!  So Bruiser needs lots of baths.  He also has allergies.  He licks his feet all the time.  He skips over crab grass in the cracks on the sidewalks because he doesn't like it when grass pokes his feet.  His skin is sensitive.  He scratches a lot.  Sometimes he cries cause he needs to scratch so much.  Because of all the bathing, he is prone to ear infections.  I found all this out when he was a puppy and was worried about his quality of life.  The vet said that it's just part of being Bruiser.  I've learned that dogs don't sit around feeling sorry for themselves...they don't compare themselves to the dog next door and feel like they missed out on something.  Their nature is to accept their lot in life and make the best of it.  She assured me he would have a happy life even with itchy skin.  She was right!

One of the first differences between Bruiser and my childhood dogs, was the hair issues.  Bruiser requires grooming and haircuts.  I never had a dog that needed haircuts before.  Bruiser doesn't like haircuts.  He REALLY doesn't like haircuts!  The first few groomers we took him to told us not to bring him back because of the biting.  Biting??  Bruiser doesn't bite!  Except if you are a groomer I guess.  They tried to muzzle him but since he has a weird shaped jaw, the muzzle wouldn't stay on, so they didn't want him back.  In this wee beastie's life there has only been one groomer that Bruiser liked.  My daughter's mother-in-law Carol.  He truly loves her!  But since she's family I didn't want to take advantage so instead decided to learn how to groom him myself.  My first try was a miserable experience.  One of my kids held him down while I buzzed him.  He wasn't cooperative and looked pretty stupid by the time it was done.  So I got a DVD to learn how to do it.  It showed me some clever tricks!  I was excited to try them out.  First was to leash him for control.  I wanted to be able to do this for myself.  It didn't go well.  I truly think Bruiser would commit suicide by strangulation on his leash before he'd stand still for a hair buzzer!

There was another cool thing they showed me.  If you lifted one leg the dog will be forced to stand on the other while you buzz him.  It kind of immobilized him and forced him to cooperate.  I decided to do this with Bruiser.  I lifted his hind leg, forcing him to stand still on his other hind leg while I buzzed him.  It didn't turn out quite like I expected.  I lifted his leg and he lifted his other and then was dangling by one leg from my hand and we were no closer to him getting a haircut than before!  At this point I realized that the people who made that DVD weren't dealing with a Bruiser!  I had a unique (and problematic) pup!  So I threw the DVD out and resigned myself to needing 2 people for haircuts...one to hold him down while the other buzzes.  We're now pretty good at it but he still looks pretty stupid for about 2 weeks after, until his hair grows out!  He has freckles on his pink skin that you can see thru the fuzz we leave on his hide.  Not attractive!  Luckily he doesn't care at all! 

When I was a kid I loved to take my dogs out in the fields and run with them.  Taking long walks thru the countryside, enjoying nature together.  I decided to take Bruiser to a field and go running around with me.  We drove out, I took him out of the car and put him down and he froze.  I tried to pull on the leash, convinced that he would love it if he just gave it a chance.  Running in fields is what dogs love!  I realized I had a dog impostor that day.  He absolutely refused to have anything to do with running in fields.  He wanted to go back in the car.  Short of carrying him or dragging him around by the throat, I had to admit there would be no field running with the Bruise.  Ever.  So he wasn't a dog-type dog.  This has played out in various ways over the years.  Most dogs love to be outside.  Bruiser has finally, in his old age, started to enjoy sitting in the sun to warm his old bones.  It wasn't always like that.  I'd be outside working in the yard, with him to keep me company, and he would go to the top of the steps and cry to go in the house.  I'd try to shame him by asking him if he was a dog.  Real dogs love to be outside!  He would ignore me and beg to go in.  I'd finally give in, just to shut him up.  He is a talker!

He wasn't always a talker.  Part of the reason I got a dog was for protection.  Not that I think Bruiser would defend any of us, but a barking dog is supposed to be a deterrent to criminals.  Shortly after he came home with us, I realized we had a problem.  Bruiser wasn't a barker!  We had to train him to bark...to announce visitors.  He really sucks at it...he usually won't bark at them until you've had them in the house visiting for a bit.  (eye roll)  But we got him to be more vocal and he hasn't shut up since.  Except when visitors arrive.  Then it's like standing on a street in an abandoned town with tumbleweeds blowing thru it.

This post is probably long enough.  I will write more later.  I feel a need to tell people about my pup.  He's now 13.5 yrs old and has been showing symptoms of dementia the past couple of years.  At least the progress is slow and he still recognizes his people.  It's a painful thing to acknowledge that your time with a pet is limited.  We're in a long good-bye right now.  Life has changed and now I'm in maintenance mode.  Managing his various issues as best I can and watching him to make sure he's still enjoying life.  It can be hard to tell!  He can have a raging ear infection and you won't know unless you dig in his ears regularly.  Lucky for him I do.  So if he's suffering, it could be difficult to tell.  So I pay attention and hope that I make the right calls.  So far I think we're ok.  I've had a couple of sessions with him where I thought we were heading to the end and he made a comeback.  My Mom told me that he'll let me know when it's time.  I'll know.  So far, it isn't time.  I know it's coming tho.  He's the best dog I've ever had.  I don't plan to have another when he leaves me.  He'll be the last.

Delusions

I just read my daughter's most recent blog posting about how rude people can be, even inadvertently, to special needs children and their parents.  And I felt ashamed because I've been trying to convince her that she's being too hyper-sensitive and has to be imagining it.  It can't be that bad right? 

I wish it wasn't.  I really do!  But I realized, by reading her blog and then thinking back to some of my own experiences with Penelope out in public, that I've become very practiced at ignoring people over the years.  I've had years to develop a reasonably thick skin myself, because of my own weirdness and have become highly skilled at ignoring people who don't matter to me in my life.  Because they don't.  And that means I purposely ignore most people.  This allows me to imagine that the world is a kinder place than it truly is.  And I think people suck more than many others so that's even sadder than it sounds!  But even as cynical as I can be, I'm still deluding myself about the people I co-habitate this planet with. 

Based on my own insides, I think the main reason people act badly is that they don't know how to act when anything unusual comes across their paths.  I make a point not to stare at people.  I make a smile and try to convey kindness when I make eye contact.  I try to treat them like I would anyone else.  Unless they appear to be having trouble of some sort.  I'll help short ladies get packages off high shelves in grocery stores so that is also like what I would do for anyone.  I try to put myself in their shoes and think that I would prefer to go about my business without being stared at or having people leap to my aid or make a special fuss over me.   Mostly I think most people are "rude" because they lack empathy.  Not because they intend to be unkind.  Or maybe that's me being delusional again?

There are some who are so self centered they are rude for their own entertainment.  I think of them as sociopaths.  They are incapable of real feelings as most human beings experience them.  Empathy is outside their capabilities.  They don't understand...they are incapable.  I went to school with some of these people.  Mean Girls (kind of like the movie - they seemed to run in packs) who seemed to find grand entertainment in belittling and tormenting their less socially accepted classmates. 

I was an outsider in school so I had sympathy for these targets.  I was a weird kid.  I got that.  I wasn't much of a target. Possibly because I'm tall and solid compared to many females. Not your typical weaker target in the physical sense. I was a tom boy. I'm weirdly strong. Once a co-worker figured that out he got me into arm wrestling and I even won and made a little money doing it! I could beat my male co-workers in an arm wrestling match. That drove them bat shit! I'm really not a girly girl. Except I do love pretty shoes!  I would occasionally (rarely) defend some of those targets too if what was going on just seemed too cruel.  I had my own issues and wasn't up to doing much!  I'm not much of an orator when I'm angry so I think I shocked the tormentors more by the fact that I'd stand up to them, than by anything I actually managed to spit out.

And even with this understanding I've been more than willing to be snobby and bitchy about others that have "defects" I don't care for. 

I used to be something of a "man hater" back in my 20's.  Blaming them for everything bad in my life.  It was so easy!  Let's say my main male role models didn't win any awards.  The females in my life were very dominant.  Men aren't trained from birth to be in touch with their feelings and can fumble around astronomically trying to figure it out.  I realized, finally, that they had feelings too!  They wanted love and comfort and security too.  When I gave birth to my son I decided it was time to take a hard look at myself.  I had a man to raise and I wanted to do a good job.  Which meant I needed to do a major paradigm shift!  I needed to own my own problems and poor decision making abilities.  Not their fault!  I found out I tended to do better when I wasn't in a relationship and didn't have anyone to blame my troubles on except for myself.  (Hmmmm starting to have some sympathy for Ken in the future...)

I was jealous of the rich and decided they were all lazy and selfish and unworthy of my friendship.  I suffered!  I understood how to survive!  They were clueless wastes of skin.  I have been such a HUGE pain in the ass in some ways!!  Now I have known some rich folk.  Some of them are very generous, wonderful caring people!  And I used to write them off as a group.  Lame of me.

I can be a snob about liberals.  When I was dating that was one of the deal breakers...I didn't date Democrats.  Flat out.  There are enough things to argue about in the world.  I figured I could easily avoid that by not dating any.  Luckily Ken shares my viewpoints to no fights over that!  But there is a purpose to both sides.  I get enough attitude from the other side that I don't waste much time feeling bad about being snobby sometimes tho. 

I'm a snob about religious people.  Seems like there is a cliche for everything!  They can talk you in mad circles with those cliches, all with a sainted smile on their faced.  Once again, not a particularly appealing attitude.  But frankly religion makes me tired so I avoid discussing it.  It's pointless.  Plus I don't have any interest in converting anyone to being agnostic and prefer it if they don't try to convert me back to being christian.  Won't work.  Like I said, pointless.

I think getting married is a stupid thing to do.  Like making it legal means your relationship will last?  Really??  I think gays are being idiots because they had the proverbial get out of jail free card on this point and they're blowing it!  If they want to be that stupid, it's their prerogative!  I doubt I will ever marry again, unless some financial advisor convinces Ken and I that it's in our best financial interests to do so.  I can spend the rest of my life with him without making it legal and be quite content!

I'm getting off point here.  Or maybe I'm right on point?  I sit and think how I'm better than those folks who left the playground after Penelope and I showed up, because I don't stare at people who have disabilities.  I don't make snarky comments about little kids/adults with various issues.  I try to treat them with kindness and respect.  But look out for the folks who don't think about the world like I do!  Though to be fair to myself, I may think these things but I also treat those folks with respect for their right to think differently than me.  I don't make a habit of insulting them and their beliefs.  I sometimes try to make an attempt to meet in the middle somewhere.  I'm an American.  I believe in the right to think about the world differently.  It's one thing this nation was based on.  I believe in that to the core of my being.  It's part of my nationality. 

Back to the delusions...I think we probably all do this.  Because facing the reality of how badly people act is just too awful!  Thinking about what we ourselves do, in the harsh light of reality, is too painful to accept.  It's easier to do like I do, ignore it, push it aside, rationalize it away.  To feel superior for the things you do right and rationalize what you do wrong.  It's part of being human.  We are all slaves to our primal Id, that snarling animal that lurks in us all.  Thankfully our Ego can fight it down and win, hopefully more often than not!  It's what keeps our civilization as civil as it is. 

I worry about my granddaughter.  She's too little to understand that people are being rude about her because she looks/acts a little different than your typical kid.  But that is a temporary condition.  She will mature.  But many of her issues will be outgrown also, though probably not fast enough for her to avoid having to deal with the pain of people staring and acting like tards.  If people could just treat each other with some kindness and basic respect it would make such a vast difference in the world!!  But believing that that is possible is just another delusion.

Unexpected benefits - http://ppweaver.blogspot.com

Last weekend was really good!  I have a cold so on Saturday I gave into it and it was such a relief to just rest all day.  I really needed it.  I felt much better on Sunday, which is good because Sunday was busy.  Started the day by taking my daughter, Lacey and my granddaughter, Penelope, to the Children's Museum.  We were treated by fate that day and discovered that Target sponsors free 3rd Sundays at the Children's Museum, plus our parking was free at the Macy's ramp on Sundays!  What a nice surprise treat! 

I enjoyed my time with them, like I always do.  Penelope was in top form.  Smiling and flirty and entertaining.  There was so much to do at the Museum that she hardly knew were to begin!  She especially likes wheels where she can pretend to drive.  Driving is Penelope's thing!  We wore her out and then went to grab some lunch.  Had a nice chat over lunch. 

Lacey & I have been talking about her blog lately.  She has been savoring her free time since the semester wrapped up but has also been feeling a bit uncomfortable about the rather hero worshipping type responses she gets to her entries.  She keeps hearing how "they could never do what she does". 

A little background on this...my granddaughter Penelope is a special needs child.  She has Weaver Syndrome.  Go to http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Weaver_syndrome  if you want more info as the issues are varied and it's difficult to sum up in a quick way.  It's very rare and her doctors are excited to have her - she is a rare opportunity for them! 

She is doing very well and Lacey & Chris (Pen's daddy) are getting a lot of support from the medical/educational community.  Lacey started the blog to help people learn about the condition, hoping to make it less scary for the next couple who has a child diagnosed with the syndrome.  Lacey & Chris had a tough time with it for a while until they finally dug in, dusted off and got on with life.  There are phases you go through when you find out that your life with your child isn't going to be what you expected.  It's like grieving a death.  The death of a dream.  But then you embrace the reality and they've found out that's pretty wonderful too! 

They struggled to find out what they were in for.  There isn't a lot of information available out there yet.  Weaver babies are rare.  There is a blog on yahoo and that was helpful but it can be a lonely diagnosis since no one seems to have ever heard of it.  For example, with Downs Syndrome, people recognize that and have some understanding of the syndrome.  They have some idea what to expect.  Weaver has a fairly distinct look also, but no one would know it in the general public because it's so rare.  They just see that she's somehow "different".  They don't understand how or why. 

Penelope is now part of medical history as her genes are being included in a study of Weaver that's going on in Canada.  Lacey's blog is another way to try to help spread information, from the view of a person who is living with it.  Hoping to make it less scary for others!

Lacey is a good writer.  She writes like she's having a conversation with you, which makes it very readable.  She has developed a fan base.  She is uncomfortable with the level of admiration she receives though.  On the one hand, she deserves it, because there is a lot of work and dedication involved in raising a special needs child.  She and Chris have proven to be a great team and Penelope is a very lucky little girl to have such loving, supportive parents. 

The "I could never do what you're doing" comment that Lacey gets so often is sad if it's true.  I'd hope that anyone who became a parent of a SN child would step up and do what their child needs them to do!  I mean, what are you going to do?  Trade your baby in for a "normal" child?  Ignore the child's needs?  Really??  It is a rather silly thing to say when you think about it.  When you're a parent, you do what needs to be done for your kids.  It could happen to anyone.  It did.  It happened to Lacey & Chris.  They became parents of a SN child.  And they have a very happy family!

I think she feels like the blog is becoming self serving or something because she didn't write it to gain all this admiration.  But I (see, I'm gonna take a bit of credit here) pointed out that this admiration/fan base gives her a platform.  She can make a difference!  By continuing to tell her story, she helps people understand more about what the parents of a SN child go through.  And most importantly, she shares more about life with a Weaver child.  There have been many trials but she writes about the tough stuff as well as the good.  There is more good than bad luckily!  Not all parents of SN children are that lucky.  Some have a much tougher time and also need every one's understanding and support!

Little Miss Penelope has touched so many lives and made us all better for knowing her!  And maybe her Mommy, by writing a blog about life with her, will make life better for some other little kids and their parents because of her.  Maybe others will understand a bit better or be kinder or just not feel as alone because of it.

I was fantasizing about life after Bruiser this morning...

I am a disgruntled waste of skin today. 

This past weekend was a bit rough with my little Bruiser and me.  We had thunderstorms.  At night.  Which means he stresses and I don't get much sleep. 

I tried cuddling him and showing him that storms aren't scary.  Didn't work.  He pulled away, fussed and cried.  I tried putting him in my bathroom because often the small room seems to make him feel safer.  Didn't work.  He barked and scratched the door.  I put him in the bathroom at the other end of the house so I could try to ignore him.  Didn't work.  He had a shit fiesta in there that I got to clean up in the wee hours.  I got to run in and out of the storm with the shitty mess, hauling it out to the trash.  So I got soaked.  In the middle of the night.  When I should have been sleeping. 

At 5 AM the storm finally had cleared out so I crawled back into bed.  Bruiser wanted his breakfast and started barking at me.  I threw a pillow at him and he finally let me be.  So I got to sleep for an hour before he started at me again. 

I got a short nap in the afternoon but Bruiser woke me up because he wanted supper.  I don't think Bruiser likes it when I sleep. 

I thought last night would be better since there were no thunderstorms scheduled.  I was wrong.  At midnight he got me up to let him out.  I've learned the hard way not to ignore that unless I want to clean up a shit fiesta.  I already had the privilege of cleaning up a shit fiesta on thunderstorm night so wasn't interested in a repeat. 

Then at 4 AM he decided he was hungry and would click, click, click around by his food dish waiting for me to get up and fill it.  Well, I got up!  And I made him come in the room and shut the door so he couldn't click, click, click at me anymore.  (the clicking is his toenails on linoleum)  Next his scratchfest ensued.  Sigh.  He doesn't scratch quietly.  I honestly think that's the point.  He wants me to wake up and mess with him.  This is a dog who won't shake a paw with you unless you offer him a treat.  He knows how to do it, but he won't, unless bribed.  He's not stupid.  He's also not eager to please...you are supposed to please him...not the other way around.

He plays his "wake up mom" games on the down low for as long as he thinks it might work without having to get in my face and risk pissing me off.  So he clicks and scratches and paces and whines a bit and rattles his dog tags.  Until a bit before my alarm went off...then he decided to risk pissing me off and began barking at me.  He wanted his breakfast. 

I got stubborn.  I did give up on sleep and toddled off to the bath but was NOT going to feed the little bastard until after my bath.  We have a process and I'm sticking to it dammit!  So I got serenaded by his barking festival all thru my bath.  For a while I just lay there with my head under the water to try to shut him out.  Then I realized I desperately needed to go to work just to get away from him.  So I got moving. 

On a final note, on my way out the door, as I was slipping on my tennis shoes, I stepped in a little turd he'd left for me by the front door.  Gross.  I cannot even express to you how utterly sick to death I am of cleaning that dog's arse almost every time he comes in the door and getting up at all hours all the time to make sure he doesn't have an accident and cleaning up after the many accidents he does have.  I feel like if I get thru a day without dealing with Bruiser's shit, it's a good day! 

This morning I was dreaming of a day when I can be sad that Bruiser has died but I'll be able to sleep thru the night and I won't have to clean poopy dog butt every day and I won't be barked at when I try to enjoy a hot soak in the tub and I won't have to walk in any more grody surprises when I'm trying to head to work in the AM.  I can grieve...but it will be peaceful.  Unlike my life with my geriatric dog.

some memories of times with my Grandpa Art & Grandma Calma

Grandma would curse those damned blackbirds!  (they took food away from the birds and squirrels she liked)
Grandma had the most fantastically delicious oatmeal...indescribably good!  And she never gave me the secret.  Oh, she acted like she did, but it never worked.  So that oatmeal will live on in my memories and only in my memories.
Grandpa driving us (slowly) to the Dairy Queen for an ice cream cone, on warm summer evenings
Pink mints
Playing cards - Grandma cheated.  She had a slanted mirror that she'd use to see our hands.  She denied it but nothing stopped her.
Helping Grandma clean the church.  I loved being in the church when no one else was there.
Daisy
Having tea (juice) in the tea set in the basement
Grandpa's John Deere tractor collection...I loved those tractors!
The giant cookies that she kept in the big jar on the floor by the fridge...molasses were my favorites
Her perfumes and the pretty bottles they came in.  They smelled so good! 
The push mower and the water barrel were endlessly fascinating
She knitted us (Stacey & I) ponchos and we put on our Sunday best and went to the Hub for brunch with Grandma and her card ladies
Grandma's sassy sense of humor and ability to tell stories
Her laughter...she really did have the best chuckle ever
I miss that.

some things I remember about time spent with my Grandma and Grandpa Blessum

Fields of tiger lilies...as far as my eyes could see
Being scared of the noises in the furnace room - we were sure Grandpa was hiding some scary creature in there
Being thrown up in the air by my grandpa when we drove out to the farm to bring him lunch
Grandpa rubbing noses with me when I came back down into his arms
The smell of my grandpa's garage...gas, dirt, oil, heavenly
Grandma's cat's eye glasses and flaming red hair
Great Grandma making donuts all over her basement house, her VW Beetle, sleeveless shirts and many necklaces
Everyone smoked...even my Mom tried to fake it
First thing when we got to Grandma's house, we'd look for salamanders in the window wells and usually found some
Playing in the dirt behind grandpa's garage with our little cars
Singing together in Grandma's piano room
Running all over town, without supervision, ultimate freedom!
Grandpa catching us between his legs and vibrating us till our teeth were loose
Grandpa making french toast
Grandma having grapefruit sectioned and sweetened for us every morning
How we'd get all dressed up for Xmas Eve when we were there for Xmas - I thought my Mom was so beautiful!
Family/cousins EVERYWHERE!!
Hugs...lots of hugs
Grandma would wave us good-bye until she couldn't see us anymore and we would wave back
I miss that.

I'm growing some whiskers!

I have a little whisker growing on my chin right now.  It's distracting.  I keep fondling it!  It's so weird to be getting these odd little hairs/whiskers here and there.  Part of the joy of aging from what I hear.  I certainly didn't expect this to happen when I was in my 20's!  Yeah, a wrinkle here and there, some fat and some sags.  I expected that.  But not the little whiskers on my chin. 

I can tell it's a whisker because it's dark and thick, just like a whisker!  I pluck them out.  I don't need a collection starting on my chin.  Ken might find that to be a turn off.  Or would he?  You never know with that man!  He can be perverse!  I have to keep up with the plucking/trimming because if I don't, I'll start looking like one of those women they use in films to play evil teachers that scare little children.  You know the ones I'm talking about.  Yes, you do!

I have to trim one of them because I've plucked it twice and ended up with a heinous ingrown hair that turned into a boil.  It looked like a boil.  Or a heinous zit.  Or something.  It was repulsive!  So it will be trimmed daily.  What will happen when I'm old and senile? Who will know to trim versus pluck my whiskers?  I probably won't look very good when I get senile.  But I'll be senile so I won't care.  Small favors right?

There aren't enough whiskers for me to do anything fun with them.  Like stroke them and do evil laughs. Curses!