I have this friend...we weren't best friends in high school and I guess I wouldn't even say that we were best friends after high school. I haven't seen her in years, but we talk weekly, if not most days. She went through a horrific experience that actually left me scarred in some ways as well. Each and every day, I try and walk in her shoes (or sandals since that is what she truly prefers). I try to see things through her eyes and with her heart and I still find myself at a loss. I still find myself sad and confused. I don't want to get into all of the details of her experience because that essentially is not what this entry is about, but it led me to something. It actually led me to a lot of things. It has allowed me to have a deeper understanding of what I want for myself and for my family. It has given me more appreciation then I have ever had before. It has also given me a forever friend. I love her dearly.
Today, hasn't been my best day. Maybe that is why I am blogging, because it is my way to vent. It is my way to scream and cry and curse and yell and stomp my feet. Essentially, I am a stay-at-home mom. I work in the evenings (which is beginning to really take it's toll) and on the weekends. I work 7 days a week. You might be thinking, honey, you are a mom, you work 7 days a week regardless. Yes, that is true. Being a mom or a dad is the toughest job in the world. It is a job that requires 24/7 attention. It is full of worries, happiness, surprises, and every other emotion possible. BUT, I work 7 days a week outside of the home. I love being a teacher and I love making a difference in others lives, but sometimes, I feel as though my love for teaching has caused my family to pay a price. Our boys are often either with Curt or with me. Curt and I hand off every day. Curt comes to my work and picks the kids up and then I start my day at work. Last year, the kids would be in bed before I got home, but this year we're extending bed times so that I can be with the kids a little and help with bed times. It seems to help Cole out the most. It gives me a sense of being a mom when I can be there too. Curt and I knew what it meant when I started teaching in the evenings and on weekends. WE knew it would be tough, but we also had hoped our situation would change quicker than it has. Well...it hasn't. We're still fighting the fight and trying to make the world go round in our little, well big, family. Some days this frustrates the hell out of me. Some days this pisses me off. Some days it leaves me feeling a bit hopeless and sad.
The beginning of the school year always leaves me with so many different emotions. I still have that teacher "excitement" about getting a room ready and welcoming new kids. Getting lessons ready and making a difference. There are so many exciting things about being a teacher in a new year. It also leaves me feeling lost and a little empty knowing that I am NOT getting a room ready. Don't get me wrong, I LOVE being home with my boys and I wouldn't change it for the world, but what many fail to realize is that we took a chance and gave up a lot to make it all work and fit just right in our little puzzle of life. So many times when I am asked what I do and I say, "Well, I stay at home with my 4 little boys, but I teach in the evenings" the first thing I hear is, "Wow, you are so lucky to be able to do that. That's nice that your husband lets you do that." Okay, okay, okay..."My husband 'lets' me?" Ummm, NO! We made the decision together, but we made it knowing the hardships and frustrations that would come with it. It isn't all sunshine and puppies and smiley faces. It is hard, REALLY hard. There are things we can't do because we don't have the money. There are moments when I want to scream and cry because the boys are climbing on each other and yelling and screaming and crying or chasing the cat or slamming doors or pounding the ground or yelling no at me and I wonder, "is this really worth it?" The answer is yes, every time, it is still YES! I wake up to 2 little boys every morning rubbing my head and the first word I hear is, "Mama." I wake 2 more little boys up by rubbing their backs and singing "Good morning" to them. They get such big smiles. During the day I read at least 1,000 books (okay, a bit of an exaggeration) and I step on more than 5 Legos. I go to the bathroom with Finn often. I remind Cole to wash his face for millionth time. I kiss Oliver's hair and hug him. These moments are what make me realize just how lucky I am.
This year has seemed so new and different. I am sure every year will feel this way, but this year, I was almost at peace with not being in a classroom. Yes, I had moments of jealousy and desire to be teaching, but I knew that where I am at is where I need to be. I can't stress about 5 years from now. I can only be thankful for the gifts that I have now. Tying all of these thoughts together will be hard, but here it is. My friend, my friend who has gone through a horrific experience, has silently taught me that every moment counts. That every decision makes a difference. That every chance I get to hug my kids and tell them that I love them should be taken. You see, I have hounded and begged and pleaded with Curt to let us have just one more baby. "One more baby?" he asks. I always respond with, "Yes, don't you see we are not complete." He reminds me that with my liver complications and the stress of the sickness and several pregnancies that my body as screamed at us to be done. He reminds me that he would love to have more and that he desperately misses seeing me pregnant and feeling the baby and rubbing my belly. Those are the fun parts of pregnancy, the rest is meh!! He reminds me that we are playing Russian Roulette and that we very easily could lose the next one. My heart sinks and I silently cry at night thinking that this part of my life is over. Slowly, I am coming to understand that it is okay to let this part go. That new beginnings and sad goodbyes will continue to happen in life. Today I say this proudly, but tomorrow I am sure I will blubber and sob about it again. I never thought trying to decide if we should be done having children could be so painful and emotional. Curt and I have had our losses and we have sadly lost 3, but we are blessed with 4 beautiful, energetic, and charismatic little boys. I can't be more thankful for what I have.
All of this being said, today was not a great day. Today, I was saddened as I watched Cole with some friends at the beginning of the day and it started this whole path towards feeling as though I am not doing enough or somehow missed something and I will never make it right and perfect for Cole. It lead me into my ongoing fear that I can't and won't be able to stop all hurt from happening and that some day Cole will have hurt feelings or will be upset or sad and I can't block him from that. My day just kind of continued on this negative path. I made baby food for Jude as I have done for all of my boys. While making the food Oliver and Finn played beautifully and Jude napped. What more could a mom ask for except maybe a glass of wine or a spa day, right??? I was so sad as I made this food. He can't be almost 7 months. He can't be trying to get his knees underneath him. Soon he won't need me. Soon he'll be in 1st grade. Are you catching my drift? What I am saying!!!! I internalized this and kept on making the food. Soon, Oliver got on the bus without even looking back (for the 2nd day in a row) and it was just Finn and Jude and I. Finn seems so grown up now. He "coooooks" and "drives" tractors all day long. He wants us to read books and he continues to just be a funny little man. After he laid down for a nap I started to go through my list of to-do's. I started by calling the mortgage lender to find out if they now officially have our paperwork. Of course, we're still missing something. OF COURSE!!! I cursed at them and hung up. Then, I started dealing with the painful process of needing a new drain field. I cursed the drain field and the expense it will cost us. I kept getting more and more upset. During this time, Jude decided that it was his turn, he needed a nap. I kept trying to finish things before I knew I would need to lay him down and he kept fussing and fussing more. Honestly, I was annoyed. I was annoyed by the whole thing and irritated that he was fussing so much. I very angrily stopped what I was doing and changed his diaper. I grabbed his woombie, his nuk, and his blanket and went to the rocking chair. At that moment, all I could feel was frustration and anger. I looked down at Jude and immediately softened. You see, Jude somehow knew that I needed him and he needed me. He protested just enough that he knew I would give in. He knew that at that moment I needed to be removed. I watched his little eyes fade off and I listened to his deep breathing. I smelled him and I kissed him and I sobbed. I sobbed because I am so blessed. I sobbed because I am so frustrated. I sobbed because I am so loved. I don't know what I did to deserve this love, but I have it and I can't soak it in enough.
Jude and I rocked for awhile and to be honest, Curt will be so irritated when he gets home because the kitchen is still a mess and I have to go to work so he will get stuck cleaning it. I got baby food made today. I called the bank. I wrote a blog entry. That is what I accomplished today. It doesn't seem like much, but man was it great. I spent most of my day being frustrated and angry, but Jude found his way through my heart and softened it up again. My cup is full and my heart is even fuller.
As always, I apologize for the typos and the fact that I don't have time to go back and reread and edit. I need to wake those amazing little boys up so that we can get their brothers from school and then I am off to work for the evening. I have many thoughts in my head about what else to write about. Who knows if I will even blog again. Today, though, I am lucky and I know it.
https://www.facebook.com/heidi.gatesheiring
Thursday, September 3, 2015
Sunday, February 10, 2013
Something a little meaningful...but, mostly from the heart
I find that my blogging experiences are mostly written in order to
provide an outlet for me to vent and not necessarily to educate others.
I am sure that at some level I do provide entertainment and some
giggles given that I often laugh throughout the day at the various
antics that are said and happen around me so I am sure that someone else
may find humor in it as well. That being said, I am also an extremely
bad blogger because a person is lucky to see a fully written blog from
me maybe every six months. At times, I feel like I might be one of
those "failing bloggers" who only bitches and moans and never really
takes the time to appreciate or use this mode of communication to
provide change, acceptance, and knowledge. My very dearest and most
treasured best friend sent an article to me today via Facebook. This
particular article left me in a state of awe. It was so well written!
By this point in my life, most should know that I am a strong, very vocal, and passionate animal advocate. Dogs have a very special place in my heart and I hold them to a high esteem. I have been involved in many different aspects of a dog's life over the last ALMOST 30 years of my life. I grew up owning collies as our prized family pets. Two of these collies played a very intricate role in my 4H involvement and successes. I spent many days, nights, & weekends training my collies for obedience, agility, & showmanship as I grew up and went from being an adolescent to a teenager and eventually an adult. These are some of the best memories of my childhood and some of my closest friends growing up were involved with this type of activity as well. I was a strong competitor and my dogs often placed high in their classes. This was my passion and to this day I miss training and competing and I hope that at some point in my life I will find myself back in this type of setting again.
My first "real love" was not with a boy, but with a dog. As a teenager, I loved going to different horse auctions with one of my friends. On a particular hot August day, we found ourselves in Vernon or Monroe county at an Amish auction. Going to an Amish auction is a surreal experience that, in my opinion, everyone should be a part of at some point in their lives. The Amish auction is not the point of my story here, but what came from the Amish auction is. In a yucky, brown torn up cardboard box lie 3 sweet little puppies. These puppies couldn't have been more than 5 weeks old, but were separated from mom because she had work to do and the puppies were getting in the way of that (according to the Amish family getting rid of the puppies). If these puppies did not find homes than they would be drowned after the auction. Two of the three little puppies quickly found new homes, but there was one plump little puppy just relaxing in the box waiting for someone to give him some love. He had soft white and red fur and the sweetest blue little muzzle. His brown eyes bore into any person's soul as he looked up at the people, but most quickly walked by without even a glance towards his box. I picked him up that day and chose to give him a new life. I knew my parents wouldn't let me bring a dog home, but I figured I would raise him for a little while and then just find a new home for him. He never really did find a new home...he just embedded himself into my life that very day and I quickly learned what it was like to be responsible for another living being and to truly experience the unconditional love and compassion that any canine companion provides for their "people." I was blessed with 9.5 beautiful and amazing years with Roper. I learned many different lessons during those years, but what I took away from being his family is something that I will never be able to repay. I am a better human, a better canine owner, a better mom for the experiences that I had with Roper. His last three months of life were excruciating and painful. Watching cancer ravage his body and slowly take his soul away was heart-wrenching, but he did it all with grace. He gave me the time that I needed to be able to say goodbye to him and he knew when it was time. He gently whispered to me the day I had to say goodbye forever and he held on so that I could have those last few kisses and snuggles and then gently passed on in my lap. I shed many tears on his white fur over the years, but I also laughed often too. During those beautiful 9.5 years with Roper, I learned to be a better trainer, a better companion, a better listener, and a better lover. He was soft in his ways, but I knew what he needed and he ALWAYS knew what I needed. He was my first champion and to this day my only champion, LOL!!!!!! I still feel like I was robbed when we were told that he had stage 4 Lymphoma and that it was only a matter of time before he would be gone. We had hoped for another year of life, but his body was tired and weak and 3 months was all he could give. He knew what I needed during that time, but I still feel so angry that all I could get was 9.5 years. He was supposed to be the dog that lived until he was 20. He was Roper...he was like the bionic dog.
It took two years before I could really accept that Roper wasn't going to just wake up and come back to life. It took two years to let that raw pain subside a little and to understand that life is in fact a circle and that I had danced the full circle once with Roper and there would be many more dances with many different people and animals. It took two years to understand that Roper's legacy wasn't done. It wasn't over. I just needed to listen to the soft whispers a little longer than most and understand that I had a different purpose in life than I thought I had always had. The day I brought Roper home, I was a naive 15-year-old that had hoped my parents wouldn't notice this little dog that just popped into my bedroom. I had my own puppy and that was all that mattered. That day, however, I became an advocate for all kinds of dogs. He was the last one, he was the one no one else wanted. He was the one that I was meant to have. Every dog has a purpose and every dog has that special someone out there that they are meant to be with. I am not sure what would have happened to Roper if I had just walked by. Maybe another person would have taken him or he would have met the creek later in the afternoon. I don't try to think about that because it didn't happen. It didn't happen to Roper. For once, my naive tendencies helped out. They helped unite a young girl and a beautiful little puppy.
I raised Roper the way I wanted to raise him and for those that were blessed to know him knew that he was a special kind of dog. He changed peoples souls in ways they may never understand. He brought love, compassion, and strength to those around him. He was an amazing animal and it would have been a shame if I had let all of those qualities die with him. It would have been a shame if I ignored what was ahead me. As I truly began to accept that he was gone and I had to move on, my very beautiful and talented best friend put a little thought in my head. She suggested that I provide a home for another cattle dog in need. A dog that needed an owner that understood him and worked in ways that he needed. I followed this notion. I begged my husband to consider a third dog in our family and after many days of guilt-ridden conversations I finally won. We headed to a no-kill animal shelter and we met this little guy. Within 20 minutes, I had been attacked, YES, you read that correctly, I was attacked by this innocent, scared, and very failed little boy. You see....there are so many breeds out there that do NOT benefit from sitting in a kennel all day every day for many days at a time. Their minds can't handle this type of situation and the separation from humans and families takes a toll. It changes them. Their demeanor changes. Their attitudes change. Their outlooks change. This happened to Skippy. He was a cute puppy, but was dumped a year later. He sat and deteriorated in the kennel and by the time I met him he wasn't who his soul said he was. He was terrified and he needed an outlet. I left with a fairly good bite mark that was dripping in blood and a lot of superficial bruises on my arm. I may also have left with one less sleeve on my shirt. I wasn't the right home for him at the time. We had a little boy, 2 other dogs, and a cat at home. We couldn't provide, safely, what he needed. I begged for the shelter to not destroy and after a lot of communication they eventually found him a rehabilitation/sanctuary where he would be re-socialized, exercised, and forever loved.
After leaving him that day, I knew that more had to be done. I wasn't stupid, I knew this type of situation happened often, but the end result was very different for many dogs. Most dogs meet the cold silver examination room and they are given a nice little shot that eventually takes their lives. They are lucky to have someone sit there and cry over them, love them, and wish they could just have 5 more minutes, 5 more kisses, 5 more moments with that dog. They die not knowing that this truly can happen. They are eventually forgotten and many more will meet this same fate. I am not saying that euthanization is not a proper treatment or that it is wrong all of the time. There are certain situations where this is necessary. Sick and ailing animals may need help in ending the suffering. I had to make that choice for my dear and beloved Roper. It happens. I will say this though, when animals are unwanted, make terrible choices, or are dangerous to themselves and others, it isn't typically their fault. They have a history and within that history humans have ultimately failed them. These failures are what cause such astonishing facts like, "86% of all fatal canine attacks involve an unneutered male." This statistic was provided by the American Humane Society (AHS). The failure here is that someone chose not to alter their animal. They felt that they were going to eventually breed that animal or that they couldn't take that manhood away from the animal. Newsflash, but animals don't know anything about manhood. The owner of the unaltered male has fatally failed this animal by choosing not to alter. They were apart of what went wrong for this dog. The part that makes me the most angry is the fact that the owner that failed the dog most likely has no understanding or remorse for the true cause of the altercation and ultimate euthanization. They blame it on other people, other situations, other happenings. This is yet another failure in being a dog owner.
I grew up with herding dogs. I grew up knowing "family" dogs. I grew up wanting to raise my children with these wonderful breeds. To this day, I will never speak ill words about the breeds of dogs that I have owned and I will always advocate for them. I have, however, become a different kind of dog owner since those wee moments in my life when I said I would always have an Australian Cattle Dog or an Australian Shepherd in my life. While they are amazing breeds and I love my Australian Cattle Dog dearly as well as my Australian Shepherd mix, I see where we, as humans, are failing different breeds. I see how humans get fixated on one type of dog and ultimately ruin every aspect about it. We, as humans, are the failure, the problem, the ultimate death sentence to so many dog breeds like the Pit Bulls, German Shepherds, Rottweilers, and Dobermans. We're the reason they are "wrong" and "bad." We didn't stand up to the haters, we didn't educate others the way we should have. I know so many amazing people out there that educate until they are blue in their face. They see the direct impact of breed haters and how it impacts and ultimately ends so many sweet souls lives. They give everything to these animals and only get a fraction of love and happy endings in return. I am not sure that I will ever have a strong enough soul to do what so many do, but I will hopefully make a difference. I will hopefully educate and change such wrong accused "facts" and eventually see the breed hating go away.
We are a very proud Pit mix owned family. We don't own Parker, she owns us. We didn't pick her, she picked us. We don't make the decisions in this house, Parker does. While we are very aware of who is the owner and who is the dog, I hope that others understand that my viscious, child-eating, man-hating, thug of a Pit mix is merely a sweet, kind, and very gentle animal. She is not a bait dog, she has not seen a fight ring, and she has found love throughout her life. She does cause people to swing their head at her. She does cause people to walk away from her. She does cause the most often stated sentence, "SHE'S a pitbull? She is so nice." I always want to say, we fed her a child for breakfast, that always makes her nicer when she meets new people, but I refrain from using this as it just makes a worse picture for the breed and it shows my immaturity and rather sarcastic frame of mind. Our thug is an amazing dog. Before owning her I always thought bully breeds were great and "someday" wanted to own one, but I was not educated. I knew NOTHING about the various breeds. I was a naive dog person. This is part of what angers me about the comments, the fabricated "statistics," and the sneers and jeers at the "bad" breeds. If you truly have a problem with a breed than I suggest, no I HIGHLY RECOMMEND that you meet a few dogs of that kind, read some books, and do some research before you start blurting out such hateful and typically far-out thoughts and comments.
A few weeks ago I was at work working with a few different children with their math. The kids were finishing up their work and getting ready for a break. It was an early Saturday morning and one of the other teachers was working with some high school students. The conversation of dogs came up and somehow the breed of Pit Bulls came up. I am not exactly sure why, but it did. I heard a young, teenage boy blurt out, "Oh pitbulls, I hate those dogs, all they do is fight and kill other dogs." In his defense, he is from a small, farming town. He has grown up on a farm. Most farmers do not look at dogs as part of the family, but as an owned thing that provides a service on the farm. He has followed in this way of thinking. He has also believed every single disgusting fact that has been put out there about Pit Bulls. I thought my head was going to start spinning and words were just going to spew out of my mouth. I stopped dead in my tracks and asked him to cite where he got such facts. He didn't say anything but, "What, I hate them dogs." You got that right people, he said "them" not "those." That is every grammar Nazi's worst fear. It was like knives scratching down a glass mirror or nails on a chalkboard. I simply stated, "Be careful what you say when you don't have the correct facts to back you up." I have run into many situations like this one. This is not uncommon and it was a fairly tame conversation. I can get much more heated about the subject, but I was at work and it was a child. It wasn't particularly his fault.
These experiences and all of my rambling and confusing thought processes have led me to today. They have led me to the owner I am and the person I strive to be. They have led me to this moment where I am standing up and yelling out, "I AM A THUG DOG OWNER. I FELL IN LOVE WITH A PIT BULL "type" DOG AND SHE SLEEPS IN MY BED EVERY NIGHT. SHE LETS MY KIDS WRESTLE WITH HER, PICK AT HER, AND LAY ON HER. SHE'S AN AMAZING AND ALMOST PERFECT SPECIMEN!!" I am forever changed thanks to the few advocates that have educated me and showed me how to be a better dog owner.
I often question and wonder if people understand why certain breeds get black listed. I often wonder if they look at HOW the breed was black listed. If you are a person that doesn't like these breeds, can you enlighten me? Can you tell me your thought processes? Your experiences? Your thoughts? I promise I won't judge, I just want to understand. I want to see your side of this battle. I want to see what is holding you back OR what is holding me back or blocking me from seeing what others see. Reading this article today was enlightening. It was interesting because the breeds that are typically called "aggressive, monsterous, mean, or dangerous to others" often are associated with a population of people that only provide a worse depiction of the breed. They choose these animals for their typically good, strong qualities and use those qualities to help out with dangerous and/or illegal activities. Rottweilers, Dobermans, & Pits are often used to "scare" others because they are strong, capable animals. They use them because these animals are very owner-oriented animals that will die doing what their owner wants. They are people-pleasing dogs.
There are a few facts that I should make known during my rant. The name "Pit Bull" is not a specific breed. It is a term used to identify a variety of different breed such as the American Pit Bull Terrier, the American Staffordshire Terrier, the Staffordshire Bull Terrier, and many other different types of mixes. The unfortunate part of the name "Pit Bull" is that it is used to describe many different dogs that have many different looks, characteristics, and original uses. This name has helped to "label" these types of dogs. This type of labeling has not only come from the typical population of dog owners, but the media has helped to heighten the black listing of these dogs and has created a false image of these breeds. This type of attention has been labeled as "media sensationalism." The media has taken what they feel their audience is most interested in and falsified and blown up reports on dog bites. The media chooses not to report on or at least quietly report on a lab mix or a Siberian Husky dog bite, but if the word "Pit Bull" is put into the title media outlets from hundreds of miles around will report on the story over and over. The prejudice and angst against "Pit Bulls" has been based on a shaky foundation of both myths and media hype.
In addition to the media hype helping to destroy a falsified image of "Pit Bulls" the "Breed Specific Legislation" or BSL has also helped gain the momentum towards blacking listing these dogs. BSL focuses on certain breeds instead of the interactions between a human and a dog. These laws, which have been studied and reported on by several different outlets, have been found to be ineffective and have made no difference on the number of dog bites or attacks. The most intriguing part about this is that large groups such as the Centers for Disease Control or CDC has chosen NOT to support BSL. The CDC was cited saying that among other problems, there is an inaccuracy of dog bite data and the difficulty in identifying dog breeds correctly causes many different discrepancies. This is especially true of mixed-breed dogs. The CDC also noted that the likelihood of certain breeds currently being regulated will only exploit other dog breeds. Exploiting other dog breeds to become aggressive will replace the current breeds with new breeds that will again restart the process.
Dog-bite related fatalities are the direct impact of poor ownership and management practices. Owners that own and maintain these resident dogs outside of regular, positive human interactions, for negative activities such as guarding/protection, fighting, and intimidation are the owners that are failing to humanely contain and control their dogs. These owners leave their dogs chained, loose and roaming, and are the reason for many of the cases of abuse/neglect. These are the typical and largest percentage of dog-bit outcomes. Additionally, these owners fail to supervise interactions between children and dogs. These owners often fail to spay or neuter their dogs. These owners fail to create a responsible breeding program. These particular issues are what often drive dog-bites and euthanization among dogs.
The ironic part about all my ramblings and fact-tossing sentences is that our society, at large, has failed to see this correlation among many different dog breeds that have been persecuted in our past. We continue to judge the breed instead of judging the dog and the owner. It's an unfortunate cycle that doesn't seem to be ending any time soon. It's a cycle that I hope that I can make a difference in, but at times I feel so overwhelmed by the constant negative attitudes towards my dog or towards the mixed breed of my dog. She isn't evil. She isn't monsterous. She isn't even mean. When we adopted Parker, we promised that we would continue to fight for her and for all of the other dogs that are currently losing this battle. This article is yet another way that I vow to fight. Ladies and Gentleman.....I'm in the ring and ready to go!
By this point in my life, most should know that I am a strong, very vocal, and passionate animal advocate. Dogs have a very special place in my heart and I hold them to a high esteem. I have been involved in many different aspects of a dog's life over the last ALMOST 30 years of my life. I grew up owning collies as our prized family pets. Two of these collies played a very intricate role in my 4H involvement and successes. I spent many days, nights, & weekends training my collies for obedience, agility, & showmanship as I grew up and went from being an adolescent to a teenager and eventually an adult. These are some of the best memories of my childhood and some of my closest friends growing up were involved with this type of activity as well. I was a strong competitor and my dogs often placed high in their classes. This was my passion and to this day I miss training and competing and I hope that at some point in my life I will find myself back in this type of setting again.
My first "real love" was not with a boy, but with a dog. As a teenager, I loved going to different horse auctions with one of my friends. On a particular hot August day, we found ourselves in Vernon or Monroe county at an Amish auction. Going to an Amish auction is a surreal experience that, in my opinion, everyone should be a part of at some point in their lives. The Amish auction is not the point of my story here, but what came from the Amish auction is. In a yucky, brown torn up cardboard box lie 3 sweet little puppies. These puppies couldn't have been more than 5 weeks old, but were separated from mom because she had work to do and the puppies were getting in the way of that (according to the Amish family getting rid of the puppies). If these puppies did not find homes than they would be drowned after the auction. Two of the three little puppies quickly found new homes, but there was one plump little puppy just relaxing in the box waiting for someone to give him some love. He had soft white and red fur and the sweetest blue little muzzle. His brown eyes bore into any person's soul as he looked up at the people, but most quickly walked by without even a glance towards his box. I picked him up that day and chose to give him a new life. I knew my parents wouldn't let me bring a dog home, but I figured I would raise him for a little while and then just find a new home for him. He never really did find a new home...he just embedded himself into my life that very day and I quickly learned what it was like to be responsible for another living being and to truly experience the unconditional love and compassion that any canine companion provides for their "people." I was blessed with 9.5 beautiful and amazing years with Roper. I learned many different lessons during those years, but what I took away from being his family is something that I will never be able to repay. I am a better human, a better canine owner, a better mom for the experiences that I had with Roper. His last three months of life were excruciating and painful. Watching cancer ravage his body and slowly take his soul away was heart-wrenching, but he did it all with grace. He gave me the time that I needed to be able to say goodbye to him and he knew when it was time. He gently whispered to me the day I had to say goodbye forever and he held on so that I could have those last few kisses and snuggles and then gently passed on in my lap. I shed many tears on his white fur over the years, but I also laughed often too. During those beautiful 9.5 years with Roper, I learned to be a better trainer, a better companion, a better listener, and a better lover. He was soft in his ways, but I knew what he needed and he ALWAYS knew what I needed. He was my first champion and to this day my only champion, LOL!!!!!! I still feel like I was robbed when we were told that he had stage 4 Lymphoma and that it was only a matter of time before he would be gone. We had hoped for another year of life, but his body was tired and weak and 3 months was all he could give. He knew what I needed during that time, but I still feel so angry that all I could get was 9.5 years. He was supposed to be the dog that lived until he was 20. He was Roper...he was like the bionic dog.
It took two years before I could really accept that Roper wasn't going to just wake up and come back to life. It took two years to let that raw pain subside a little and to understand that life is in fact a circle and that I had danced the full circle once with Roper and there would be many more dances with many different people and animals. It took two years to understand that Roper's legacy wasn't done. It wasn't over. I just needed to listen to the soft whispers a little longer than most and understand that I had a different purpose in life than I thought I had always had. The day I brought Roper home, I was a naive 15-year-old that had hoped my parents wouldn't notice this little dog that just popped into my bedroom. I had my own puppy and that was all that mattered. That day, however, I became an advocate for all kinds of dogs. He was the last one, he was the one no one else wanted. He was the one that I was meant to have. Every dog has a purpose and every dog has that special someone out there that they are meant to be with. I am not sure what would have happened to Roper if I had just walked by. Maybe another person would have taken him or he would have met the creek later in the afternoon. I don't try to think about that because it didn't happen. It didn't happen to Roper. For once, my naive tendencies helped out. They helped unite a young girl and a beautiful little puppy.
I raised Roper the way I wanted to raise him and for those that were blessed to know him knew that he was a special kind of dog. He changed peoples souls in ways they may never understand. He brought love, compassion, and strength to those around him. He was an amazing animal and it would have been a shame if I had let all of those qualities die with him. It would have been a shame if I ignored what was ahead me. As I truly began to accept that he was gone and I had to move on, my very beautiful and talented best friend put a little thought in my head. She suggested that I provide a home for another cattle dog in need. A dog that needed an owner that understood him and worked in ways that he needed. I followed this notion. I begged my husband to consider a third dog in our family and after many days of guilt-ridden conversations I finally won. We headed to a no-kill animal shelter and we met this little guy. Within 20 minutes, I had been attacked, YES, you read that correctly, I was attacked by this innocent, scared, and very failed little boy. You see....there are so many breeds out there that do NOT benefit from sitting in a kennel all day every day for many days at a time. Their minds can't handle this type of situation and the separation from humans and families takes a toll. It changes them. Their demeanor changes. Their attitudes change. Their outlooks change. This happened to Skippy. He was a cute puppy, but was dumped a year later. He sat and deteriorated in the kennel and by the time I met him he wasn't who his soul said he was. He was terrified and he needed an outlet. I left with a fairly good bite mark that was dripping in blood and a lot of superficial bruises on my arm. I may also have left with one less sleeve on my shirt. I wasn't the right home for him at the time. We had a little boy, 2 other dogs, and a cat at home. We couldn't provide, safely, what he needed. I begged for the shelter to not destroy and after a lot of communication they eventually found him a rehabilitation/sanctuary where he would be re-socialized, exercised, and forever loved.
After leaving him that day, I knew that more had to be done. I wasn't stupid, I knew this type of situation happened often, but the end result was very different for many dogs. Most dogs meet the cold silver examination room and they are given a nice little shot that eventually takes their lives. They are lucky to have someone sit there and cry over them, love them, and wish they could just have 5 more minutes, 5 more kisses, 5 more moments with that dog. They die not knowing that this truly can happen. They are eventually forgotten and many more will meet this same fate. I am not saying that euthanization is not a proper treatment or that it is wrong all of the time. There are certain situations where this is necessary. Sick and ailing animals may need help in ending the suffering. I had to make that choice for my dear and beloved Roper. It happens. I will say this though, when animals are unwanted, make terrible choices, or are dangerous to themselves and others, it isn't typically their fault. They have a history and within that history humans have ultimately failed them. These failures are what cause such astonishing facts like, "86% of all fatal canine attacks involve an unneutered male." This statistic was provided by the American Humane Society (AHS). The failure here is that someone chose not to alter their animal. They felt that they were going to eventually breed that animal or that they couldn't take that manhood away from the animal. Newsflash, but animals don't know anything about manhood. The owner of the unaltered male has fatally failed this animal by choosing not to alter. They were apart of what went wrong for this dog. The part that makes me the most angry is the fact that the owner that failed the dog most likely has no understanding or remorse for the true cause of the altercation and ultimate euthanization. They blame it on other people, other situations, other happenings. This is yet another failure in being a dog owner.
I grew up with herding dogs. I grew up knowing "family" dogs. I grew up wanting to raise my children with these wonderful breeds. To this day, I will never speak ill words about the breeds of dogs that I have owned and I will always advocate for them. I have, however, become a different kind of dog owner since those wee moments in my life when I said I would always have an Australian Cattle Dog or an Australian Shepherd in my life. While they are amazing breeds and I love my Australian Cattle Dog dearly as well as my Australian Shepherd mix, I see where we, as humans, are failing different breeds. I see how humans get fixated on one type of dog and ultimately ruin every aspect about it. We, as humans, are the failure, the problem, the ultimate death sentence to so many dog breeds like the Pit Bulls, German Shepherds, Rottweilers, and Dobermans. We're the reason they are "wrong" and "bad." We didn't stand up to the haters, we didn't educate others the way we should have. I know so many amazing people out there that educate until they are blue in their face. They see the direct impact of breed haters and how it impacts and ultimately ends so many sweet souls lives. They give everything to these animals and only get a fraction of love and happy endings in return. I am not sure that I will ever have a strong enough soul to do what so many do, but I will hopefully make a difference. I will hopefully educate and change such wrong accused "facts" and eventually see the breed hating go away.
We are a very proud Pit mix owned family. We don't own Parker, she owns us. We didn't pick her, she picked us. We don't make the decisions in this house, Parker does. While we are very aware of who is the owner and who is the dog, I hope that others understand that my viscious, child-eating, man-hating, thug of a Pit mix is merely a sweet, kind, and very gentle animal. She is not a bait dog, she has not seen a fight ring, and she has found love throughout her life. She does cause people to swing their head at her. She does cause people to walk away from her. She does cause the most often stated sentence, "SHE'S a pitbull? She is so nice." I always want to say, we fed her a child for breakfast, that always makes her nicer when she meets new people, but I refrain from using this as it just makes a worse picture for the breed and it shows my immaturity and rather sarcastic frame of mind. Our thug is an amazing dog. Before owning her I always thought bully breeds were great and "someday" wanted to own one, but I was not educated. I knew NOTHING about the various breeds. I was a naive dog person. This is part of what angers me about the comments, the fabricated "statistics," and the sneers and jeers at the "bad" breeds. If you truly have a problem with a breed than I suggest, no I HIGHLY RECOMMEND that you meet a few dogs of that kind, read some books, and do some research before you start blurting out such hateful and typically far-out thoughts and comments.
A few weeks ago I was at work working with a few different children with their math. The kids were finishing up their work and getting ready for a break. It was an early Saturday morning and one of the other teachers was working with some high school students. The conversation of dogs came up and somehow the breed of Pit Bulls came up. I am not exactly sure why, but it did. I heard a young, teenage boy blurt out, "Oh pitbulls, I hate those dogs, all they do is fight and kill other dogs." In his defense, he is from a small, farming town. He has grown up on a farm. Most farmers do not look at dogs as part of the family, but as an owned thing that provides a service on the farm. He has followed in this way of thinking. He has also believed every single disgusting fact that has been put out there about Pit Bulls. I thought my head was going to start spinning and words were just going to spew out of my mouth. I stopped dead in my tracks and asked him to cite where he got such facts. He didn't say anything but, "What, I hate them dogs." You got that right people, he said "them" not "those." That is every grammar Nazi's worst fear. It was like knives scratching down a glass mirror or nails on a chalkboard. I simply stated, "Be careful what you say when you don't have the correct facts to back you up." I have run into many situations like this one. This is not uncommon and it was a fairly tame conversation. I can get much more heated about the subject, but I was at work and it was a child. It wasn't particularly his fault.
These experiences and all of my rambling and confusing thought processes have led me to today. They have led me to the owner I am and the person I strive to be. They have led me to this moment where I am standing up and yelling out, "I AM A THUG DOG OWNER. I FELL IN LOVE WITH A PIT BULL "type" DOG AND SHE SLEEPS IN MY BED EVERY NIGHT. SHE LETS MY KIDS WRESTLE WITH HER, PICK AT HER, AND LAY ON HER. SHE'S AN AMAZING AND ALMOST PERFECT SPECIMEN!!" I am forever changed thanks to the few advocates that have educated me and showed me how to be a better dog owner.
I often question and wonder if people understand why certain breeds get black listed. I often wonder if they look at HOW the breed was black listed. If you are a person that doesn't like these breeds, can you enlighten me? Can you tell me your thought processes? Your experiences? Your thoughts? I promise I won't judge, I just want to understand. I want to see your side of this battle. I want to see what is holding you back OR what is holding me back or blocking me from seeing what others see. Reading this article today was enlightening. It was interesting because the breeds that are typically called "aggressive, monsterous, mean, or dangerous to others" often are associated with a population of people that only provide a worse depiction of the breed. They choose these animals for their typically good, strong qualities and use those qualities to help out with dangerous and/or illegal activities. Rottweilers, Dobermans, & Pits are often used to "scare" others because they are strong, capable animals. They use them because these animals are very owner-oriented animals that will die doing what their owner wants. They are people-pleasing dogs.
There are a few facts that I should make known during my rant. The name "Pit Bull" is not a specific breed. It is a term used to identify a variety of different breed such as the American Pit Bull Terrier, the American Staffordshire Terrier, the Staffordshire Bull Terrier, and many other different types of mixes. The unfortunate part of the name "Pit Bull" is that it is used to describe many different dogs that have many different looks, characteristics, and original uses. This name has helped to "label" these types of dogs. This type of labeling has not only come from the typical population of dog owners, but the media has helped to heighten the black listing of these dogs and has created a false image of these breeds. This type of attention has been labeled as "media sensationalism." The media has taken what they feel their audience is most interested in and falsified and blown up reports on dog bites. The media chooses not to report on or at least quietly report on a lab mix or a Siberian Husky dog bite, but if the word "Pit Bull" is put into the title media outlets from hundreds of miles around will report on the story over and over. The prejudice and angst against "Pit Bulls" has been based on a shaky foundation of both myths and media hype.
In addition to the media hype helping to destroy a falsified image of "Pit Bulls" the "Breed Specific Legislation" or BSL has also helped gain the momentum towards blacking listing these dogs. BSL focuses on certain breeds instead of the interactions between a human and a dog. These laws, which have been studied and reported on by several different outlets, have been found to be ineffective and have made no difference on the number of dog bites or attacks. The most intriguing part about this is that large groups such as the Centers for Disease Control or CDC has chosen NOT to support BSL. The CDC was cited saying that among other problems, there is an inaccuracy of dog bite data and the difficulty in identifying dog breeds correctly causes many different discrepancies. This is especially true of mixed-breed dogs. The CDC also noted that the likelihood of certain breeds currently being regulated will only exploit other dog breeds. Exploiting other dog breeds to become aggressive will replace the current breeds with new breeds that will again restart the process.
Dog-bite related fatalities are the direct impact of poor ownership and management practices. Owners that own and maintain these resident dogs outside of regular, positive human interactions, for negative activities such as guarding/protection, fighting, and intimidation are the owners that are failing to humanely contain and control their dogs. These owners leave their dogs chained, loose and roaming, and are the reason for many of the cases of abuse/neglect. These are the typical and largest percentage of dog-bit outcomes. Additionally, these owners fail to supervise interactions between children and dogs. These owners often fail to spay or neuter their dogs. These owners fail to create a responsible breeding program. These particular issues are what often drive dog-bites and euthanization among dogs.
The ironic part about all my ramblings and fact-tossing sentences is that our society, at large, has failed to see this correlation among many different dog breeds that have been persecuted in our past. We continue to judge the breed instead of judging the dog and the owner. It's an unfortunate cycle that doesn't seem to be ending any time soon. It's a cycle that I hope that I can make a difference in, but at times I feel so overwhelmed by the constant negative attitudes towards my dog or towards the mixed breed of my dog. She isn't evil. She isn't monsterous. She isn't even mean. When we adopted Parker, we promised that we would continue to fight for her and for all of the other dogs that are currently losing this battle. This article is yet another way that I vow to fight. Ladies and Gentleman.....I'm in the ring and ready to go!
The article that I mentioned several times in this blog post is:
http://www.salon.com/2013/02/05/in_defense_of_the_pitbull_partner/
Wednesday, November 28, 2012
What a day......
This blogging stuff takes a lot of time and energy....I apparently don't have time or energy since I am not very good at writing my blog entries. For whatever reason, today seemed so appropriately right to put another blog entry in the books. Just today, Wednesday, November 28th, 2012 I have had many trials and many struggles. Our morning started perfectly, turned to complete chaos, and then spiraled downwards quickly during Cole's, "Cooking with 3's" class. All of the other 3-year-olds sit so nicely, listen to their moms or grandmas and take turns while waiting patiently for the next step. Cole and I come into the classroom and all hell breaks loose. Just in an hour, Cole had 2 timeouts, bit me in the arm so hard that I immediately bruised, and had the teacher speak to him twice. He was WILD during the class and nothing I was saying or doing was working. At one point about half-way through the class he just got up and left. I followed him and put him in a timeout. He NEVER sits for timeouts so it then became a muscle match on who could hold stronger. I held my arm over his lap to keep him on his seat and in turn he bit me as hard as he could. It took a few minutes of screaming and crying and people (mostly older) staring at me like I was an ape with an unruly kid, but he eventually stopped crying and civilly said, "I am ready now." We walked back into the classroom and he was an ANGEL the rest of the class. I can't describe what a blessing it was to finally have Cole acknowledge that he was ready and to return to some activity and move on with his day. Often times, it seems like he says he's ready and then he really isn't and he just keeps falling a part. This really felt like a moment of change and progress. I was hoping that it would last.
Our morning continued on beautifully. When we got home I had some time to clean up the living room and vacuum while the boys played quietly. We had a nice lunch and then Oliver's Birth To 3 teacher came for his 6-month eval. I couldn't have really asked for a more successful morning after two very chaotic days and a busy holiday weekend. Just as everything felt like it was going well and I was going to have a fight-free "quiet time" with Cole it all seemed to go down the shitter, AGAIN!!! I supposed I should explain what "quiet time" in this house means. Every afternoon Oliver goes down for a nap because well, he needs one and I need him to need one. During that time, Cole and I have some quiet time together to read books, play a game, or do a puzzle and then he goes into his room with some toys of his choice to play for an hour and a half or so. Some days he curls up on his bed at some point and sleeps and other days he plays and eventually gets louder and louder. Most days it is a fight to get from reading books to in his room. He either just physically doesn't listen and runs around like a mad-man, takes FOREVER picking toys out and going to the bathroom, or he screams, cries, and throws a temper-tantrum and then bangs on the walls, closet, and door. Often times, "quiet time" with Cole is miserable, but without it Oliver wouldn't sleep. Either way it goes, I am losing the battle. Today....we read books and he was so good that I gave him some time to quietly play downstairs. He somehow hurt his finger and came over fake crying. I reassured him that his finger was fine and to enjoy his playtime, but apparently that is where it all went wrong, AGAIN!!!! He melted and began throwing a fit. I tried my best to talk him through the fit, but he wasn't having it. I then asked him to play for a little while and not waste his time. He still wasn't having it. Then I said if he didn't go play that he would go upstairs. He didn't listen to that either. So....I carried him to his room and the door banging began. I sat down in the living room and just wondered, where do I keep going wrong???? Cole is a constant jigsaw puzzle that appears to be unsolvable. When you think you have something it just changes and then you are lost in the dark again.
It didn't take very long for Cole to settle down in his room after I lost it on him and was yelling and he was crying and I was just reaching my boiling point. I finally walked away and said I had had enough and that he needed to stop. Somehow, he knew that that was the moment that he needed to stop pushing. Within 20 minutes of being in his room, it became evident that he was sleeping. He really could use a nap everyday, but he's getting to that age where he isn't wanting them anymore and he can survive without them. I quietly walked into my room and found that one of my favorite shirts had been chewed up by Miss Parker and I, again, about lost it. I looked at her while she sat on my spot on the bed and I said, "Really, really??? You ate my damn shirt." She wagged her tail like nothing else could be greater. I moved her out of my spot which she immediately was crabby about and proceeded to pout for the next half-hour while I ignored her and continued to reflect on what a shitty afternoon it had been and how disappointed I was in my behavior and reaction towards Cole. I am the adult here. I am the one that is supposed to stay level headed and calm. I am the one that is supposed to be able to reason with him and calm him down. I didn't do any of that. I got more and more mad until I just lost it on him. I couldn't think of anything else to do and all of a sudden it dawned on me that I had a blog that I hadn't written in for such a long time. I browsed through some of my old posts and started to giggle some. How cheesy did it all sound....life is not perfect, it isn't anywhere near being perfect, but it is beautiful even during the rough patches. I still don't feel better after pouring out my heart about my crummy morning and my constant, never-ending battles with Cole, but I realized something too. I realized that when he wakes up, I need to be the adult and apologize for my behaviors and that I need to own up to my own frustrations. I need to ask Cole to forgive me for being the crabass, non-listening person and I need to talk to him about his choices and how they affect others. I hope that doing this will somehow allow me to forgive myself for not being the mom that I know I should have been.
Enough of my sob story....this is what being a mom is about. You just have to suck it up more some days than others. Here's to a better night (fingers crossed, we have swimming lessons tonight) and a better understanding and less fights between Cole and I!!!!
I have no clue who reads this and who just thinks, "What a crazy lady!!!!," however, I hope that you all are enjoying your week.
Constantly pondering and always wondering....
Mama Bear
Our morning continued on beautifully. When we got home I had some time to clean up the living room and vacuum while the boys played quietly. We had a nice lunch and then Oliver's Birth To 3 teacher came for his 6-month eval. I couldn't have really asked for a more successful morning after two very chaotic days and a busy holiday weekend. Just as everything felt like it was going well and I was going to have a fight-free "quiet time" with Cole it all seemed to go down the shitter, AGAIN!!! I supposed I should explain what "quiet time" in this house means. Every afternoon Oliver goes down for a nap because well, he needs one and I need him to need one. During that time, Cole and I have some quiet time together to read books, play a game, or do a puzzle and then he goes into his room with some toys of his choice to play for an hour and a half or so. Some days he curls up on his bed at some point and sleeps and other days he plays and eventually gets louder and louder. Most days it is a fight to get from reading books to in his room. He either just physically doesn't listen and runs around like a mad-man, takes FOREVER picking toys out and going to the bathroom, or he screams, cries, and throws a temper-tantrum and then bangs on the walls, closet, and door. Often times, "quiet time" with Cole is miserable, but without it Oliver wouldn't sleep. Either way it goes, I am losing the battle. Today....we read books and he was so good that I gave him some time to quietly play downstairs. He somehow hurt his finger and came over fake crying. I reassured him that his finger was fine and to enjoy his playtime, but apparently that is where it all went wrong, AGAIN!!!! He melted and began throwing a fit. I tried my best to talk him through the fit, but he wasn't having it. I then asked him to play for a little while and not waste his time. He still wasn't having it. Then I said if he didn't go play that he would go upstairs. He didn't listen to that either. So....I carried him to his room and the door banging began. I sat down in the living room and just wondered, where do I keep going wrong???? Cole is a constant jigsaw puzzle that appears to be unsolvable. When you think you have something it just changes and then you are lost in the dark again.
It didn't take very long for Cole to settle down in his room after I lost it on him and was yelling and he was crying and I was just reaching my boiling point. I finally walked away and said I had had enough and that he needed to stop. Somehow, he knew that that was the moment that he needed to stop pushing. Within 20 minutes of being in his room, it became evident that he was sleeping. He really could use a nap everyday, but he's getting to that age where he isn't wanting them anymore and he can survive without them. I quietly walked into my room and found that one of my favorite shirts had been chewed up by Miss Parker and I, again, about lost it. I looked at her while she sat on my spot on the bed and I said, "Really, really??? You ate my damn shirt." She wagged her tail like nothing else could be greater. I moved her out of my spot which she immediately was crabby about and proceeded to pout for the next half-hour while I ignored her and continued to reflect on what a shitty afternoon it had been and how disappointed I was in my behavior and reaction towards Cole. I am the adult here. I am the one that is supposed to stay level headed and calm. I am the one that is supposed to be able to reason with him and calm him down. I didn't do any of that. I got more and more mad until I just lost it on him. I couldn't think of anything else to do and all of a sudden it dawned on me that I had a blog that I hadn't written in for such a long time. I browsed through some of my old posts and started to giggle some. How cheesy did it all sound....life is not perfect, it isn't anywhere near being perfect, but it is beautiful even during the rough patches. I still don't feel better after pouring out my heart about my crummy morning and my constant, never-ending battles with Cole, but I realized something too. I realized that when he wakes up, I need to be the adult and apologize for my behaviors and that I need to own up to my own frustrations. I need to ask Cole to forgive me for being the crabass, non-listening person and I need to talk to him about his choices and how they affect others. I hope that doing this will somehow allow me to forgive myself for not being the mom that I know I should have been.
Enough of my sob story....this is what being a mom is about. You just have to suck it up more some days than others. Here's to a better night (fingers crossed, we have swimming lessons tonight) and a better understanding and less fights between Cole and I!!!!
I have no clue who reads this and who just thinks, "What a crazy lady!!!!," however, I hope that you all are enjoying your week.
Constantly pondering and always wondering....
Mama Bear
Sunday, January 1, 2012
Let's chat....it's been way too long!
Wow....I am embarrassed to say, I have been a complete slacker. I think about my blog often and I say to myself, "Hmm....I need to post something," then I move on with my day and well, as you can see I haven't done well with keeping up. Some of it may be because I feel like I have nothing "important" or "exciting" to share and some of it is just that I get distracted easily. I am totally the girl that sees something shiny and forgets what I am doing and goes for the shiny piece.
Well, since my last posting (4 months ago, whoops!), we have welcomed 3 new birthdays, said farewell to one animal and welcomed another into our brood, and endured several holidays with excitable children. In October, Curt turned the big 3-0. I planned and managed to pull off a surprise party with the help of my amazing family and friends! Curt had a blast and had no clue that I had something planned. It was great. We were able to pull money together and get him a beer brewing kit and some extra for beer recipe kits. Let me tell you, my house will never smell the same. Curt is having a blast with his beer and I am learning a thing or two as he ventures into more brewing moments. Oliver turned 1 at the end of November and Cole turned 3 at the beginning of December. The boys shared a birthday party and were showered with gifts by our amazing family and friends. They had a great day and we loved every minute of it.
In October, we bid farewell to our cat, Annie. It was a rough decision, but it was something that had to be done. We welcomed a new little kitten into our home since Annie's passing. Esmerelda is her name and she is quite the love. She is JR's best friend and has made such an impression on all of us. She is definately my baby.
At the end of October, we celebrated Halloween in fashion. The boys had a blast. This was the first year that Cole actually got into Halloween and seemed to get the hang of it. He was the "Cat in the Hat" and absolutely loved his costume. Oliver was one of the cutest little lions around. He enjoyed looking at everyone, but wasn't much for trick-or-treating so he hung back with his "Nana," my mom. Cole did a few different trick-or-treating events and we spent quite a bit of time with friends and family. The candy was great, but man do I hate having it in the house because I end up eating it. Darn ability to just say no....I am so weak.
Christmas and Santa were good to us this year. The boys received many beautiful gifts and I have struggled with putting everything away. Next year I hope to begin a new tradition in our family....I want our boys to understand "giving" back. We are going to find something for the boys to do to "give" back to the community and to those that are less fortunate than we are. I hope that they will understand the reason for the season and to build empathy. I will keep you posted as to what we figure out to do....
I am finally feeling like I am getting myself organized again. It was a struggle once we moved to our new house (2 years ago) because I had to organize everything all while juggling an almost 1-year-old at the time. It never seemed to get done and it always has drove me nuts. I have spent a lot of time in the past few months organizing, donating, and organizing some more. It feels great to actually know where things are and man is my house so much cleaner now. I am so proud of Cole because he even puts his toys away where they belong. I am so anal about organization and being clean.
I have continued to excel at working out, beginning to change to more of a healthy eating lifestyle, and have found many new challenges for the new year. I am excited to see what this ole' body is capable of and what I can accomplish in the new year.
Well, this is a rather boring and dry posting, but I figured it was time to update on our crazy, busy lives. I failed to get a Christmas card out this year so I guess everyone will be getting a "Valentine's Card" again this year. This may just be our new tradition.
I hope that the first day of the New Year has been everything you have hoped for and here is to a healthy, happy, fitness full 2012!!!!!
Peace out.....
P.S. I didn't re-read for typos, sorry if there is some...
Well, since my last posting (4 months ago, whoops!), we have welcomed 3 new birthdays, said farewell to one animal and welcomed another into our brood, and endured several holidays with excitable children. In October, Curt turned the big 3-0. I planned and managed to pull off a surprise party with the help of my amazing family and friends! Curt had a blast and had no clue that I had something planned. It was great. We were able to pull money together and get him a beer brewing kit and some extra for beer recipe kits. Let me tell you, my house will never smell the same. Curt is having a blast with his beer and I am learning a thing or two as he ventures into more brewing moments. Oliver turned 1 at the end of November and Cole turned 3 at the beginning of December. The boys shared a birthday party and were showered with gifts by our amazing family and friends. They had a great day and we loved every minute of it.
In October, we bid farewell to our cat, Annie. It was a rough decision, but it was something that had to be done. We welcomed a new little kitten into our home since Annie's passing. Esmerelda is her name and she is quite the love. She is JR's best friend and has made such an impression on all of us. She is definately my baby.
At the end of October, we celebrated Halloween in fashion. The boys had a blast. This was the first year that Cole actually got into Halloween and seemed to get the hang of it. He was the "Cat in the Hat" and absolutely loved his costume. Oliver was one of the cutest little lions around. He enjoyed looking at everyone, but wasn't much for trick-or-treating so he hung back with his "Nana," my mom. Cole did a few different trick-or-treating events and we spent quite a bit of time with friends and family. The candy was great, but man do I hate having it in the house because I end up eating it. Darn ability to just say no....I am so weak.
Christmas and Santa were good to us this year. The boys received many beautiful gifts and I have struggled with putting everything away. Next year I hope to begin a new tradition in our family....I want our boys to understand "giving" back. We are going to find something for the boys to do to "give" back to the community and to those that are less fortunate than we are. I hope that they will understand the reason for the season and to build empathy. I will keep you posted as to what we figure out to do....
I am finally feeling like I am getting myself organized again. It was a struggle once we moved to our new house (2 years ago) because I had to organize everything all while juggling an almost 1-year-old at the time. It never seemed to get done and it always has drove me nuts. I have spent a lot of time in the past few months organizing, donating, and organizing some more. It feels great to actually know where things are and man is my house so much cleaner now. I am so proud of Cole because he even puts his toys away where they belong. I am so anal about organization and being clean.
I have continued to excel at working out, beginning to change to more of a healthy eating lifestyle, and have found many new challenges for the new year. I am excited to see what this ole' body is capable of and what I can accomplish in the new year.
Well, this is a rather boring and dry posting, but I figured it was time to update on our crazy, busy lives. I failed to get a Christmas card out this year so I guess everyone will be getting a "Valentine's Card" again this year. This may just be our new tradition.
I hope that the first day of the New Year has been everything you have hoped for and here is to a healthy, happy, fitness full 2012!!!!!
Peace out.....
P.S. I didn't re-read for typos, sorry if there is some...
Thursday, September 1, 2011
The ups, the downs, and the in betweens!
I must warn you now, I may sound a bit whiny and irritating at certain points in this blog of mine....today may just be one of those damn whiny days too!!!
It has been a VERY busy past several weeks in the 'ole Heiring house. About a month and a half ago I found out that the excruciating pain that I was feeling was not just indigestion or a minor heart attack. Yes- I used the word heart attack- if you felt what I felt, you would have thought that you were dying too!!!! This lovely pain (what a positive way to put that) was actually my gallbladder letting me know that it has had it with this body and it was wanting a new place to stay. So, we parted ways on Monday, August 15th. Surgery went well, a little longer than expected due to a tumor that was found on my liver. Luckily, the tumor was still benign and all is "a-okay!" They removed the tumor and the gallbladder and after a rough first few days with a lot of pain, I am proud to announce that I am back on track, training hard, and chasing my little "chitlens" around again.
I have been busy attempting to keep up with the food intake that Oli has now begun. I make all of the baby food that our boys consume...Oli has DEFINITELY kept me on my toes and busy as ever. The boy eats non-stop, I swear. Maybe I feel so behind because when I had only Cole, I had all the time in the world to make this food, clean the house, get schoolwork done, and God knows what else I wasted my time doing. Now, they have me outnumbered and running like mad. That has to be the reason why I constantly feel behind, out of the loop, and unorganized. What a way to feel, huh? I just thank whoever is above me for the time I get with my boys. Watching them grow and change is such a remarkable experience that I never knew anything about until Cole and Oli graced our lives.
Cole has become quite the independent, defiant, and jubilant little 2 1/2-year-old. It seems as though we went from an independent, yet flexible child to a crazy, I do it my way when I want and how I want little boy in just a blink of the eye. I swear it happened over night. Some days, I feel as though all I do is put out fire after fire after fire in the house, but just when I am at my breaking point, Cole will turn the charm on and all is forgotten. I love those moments when it is just Cole and I and we have these in-depth conversations about such important things in life...you know- loaders, diggers, trucks, going potty, daddy, Papa, and of course....THE BOAT!!! How could we not talk about the boat, even one day of no boat talk is unimaginable. He certainly loves his papa and his boat as well as the ground that his daddy walks on!! Most days, I wonder what goes on his little brain....what a ride it would be to just crawl up there and get to experience first hand what is actually going through Cole's brain. Maybe, just maybe, I don't want to know because I will finally learn what he is thinking when he is doing that one thing that I absolutely hate. Who knows....I am thankful for naps and bedtimes at 8 because if it weren't for those moments, I would go nuts some days! Does that make me a bad parent?
I recently spoke with a local church (I know, I just mentioned "church" in my blog, odd!!) about sending Cole 2-days a week for half of a day of 3-year-old preschool. He needs the structure, the organization, and socialization. I think it would help to keep him challenged and well-balanced. I will miss him, but I will also love the time away from him as well. I hate to say it, but my baby needs time away from me too.
Oliver has made some huge milestones in the past few weeks....my baby boy is FINALLY sitting up completely by himself, throwing himself to the ground (that just sounds harsh), rolling around, and has begun to get up on both his hands and his knees and is rocking and pushing backwards. So far, he can slowly, but surely get across the living room floor backwards and is GREAT at getting stuck under things. This new found exploration has also allowed Oli to be more in tune with what is around him and not have the constant need/want/desire to always be held or in close proximity to me. Besides Oli's new found movement, he has become quite the eater as well. We have closed in on testing and eating almost all of the veggies and we are now beginning to learn the world of fruit. Boy does he love food. I am now only nursing morning and night . Oli is starting to feed himself some finger foods and is holding onto his sippy cup, but not quite drinking from it yet. Oli has started to join in on the bath fun with Cole, but he still stays in his tub. He may be 9 months now, but he still is a little peanut. At his check-up, his weight was in the 7%, head circumference in the 6% (he has my tiny head), and his height was in the 25%. He is so incredibly opposite from what his big brother has been.
Curt has been non-stop at work. A TON of over-time has been put in in the past month to help get the computers and network ready for the beginning of the school year. Cole has struggled with this and I have missed having my best friend around greatly. He leaves early and comes home late. Its amazing what we do for our families, but Curt goes above and beyond for us. We have taken such a huge hit financially this year with Curt's 20% and now my 20% cut too. I just keep telling myself that everything happens for a reason and this reason is just not known yet.
We also recently welcomed in a new addition to our family. I found out about a rescue organization near Portage, WI that was going under and was in financial trouble. The property was being auctioned off and there was still animals that desperately needed homes. I told Curt about the group and he immediately told me no, but the more I told him about the group and started showing him pictures the more he eased up. I have always had this dream of owning a black and white cat- a cow cat!! They happened to have a little boy by the name of JR who was a "cow cat." We went and met him and ended up falling in love and bringing him home. He has been the perfect addition to our family and we are now larger then ever! It is never a dull moment in this house with all of the animals, children, and other crazy things going on. JR is quite the big baby and happens to be MY baby. You see, the last cat, Annie (we still have her) was supposed to be my cat. She didn't turn out that way. She LOVES Curt and really doesn't care for me. I was so excited when he really took a liking to me. As I type, JR is right next to my leg snoozing away along with all 3 dogs. I have no clue where Annie is currently hiding.
Besides surgery, work, and new additions, I have kept busy with my training. In September, I will be training quite extensively for my very first 5K run. I am doing 5 days of boot camp, some swimming, A LOT of running, spinning, and pilates. My plate will be full, but I have come to really enjoy what I am doing and my trainer has been amazing. I am changing as a person and I feel as though I am becoming a better model for my boys.
Well, this is long enough. I guess it isn't as bad as I thought it was going to be...I had my ups and I had my downs, but isn't that how life goes???
Here's to an amazing Labor Day weekend full of fun, rest, and a little 5K action, wahoo!!!!
Signing off.....
Mama Bear
It has been a VERY busy past several weeks in the 'ole Heiring house. About a month and a half ago I found out that the excruciating pain that I was feeling was not just indigestion or a minor heart attack. Yes- I used the word heart attack- if you felt what I felt, you would have thought that you were dying too!!!! This lovely pain (what a positive way to put that) was actually my gallbladder letting me know that it has had it with this body and it was wanting a new place to stay. So, we parted ways on Monday, August 15th. Surgery went well, a little longer than expected due to a tumor that was found on my liver. Luckily, the tumor was still benign and all is "a-okay!" They removed the tumor and the gallbladder and after a rough first few days with a lot of pain, I am proud to announce that I am back on track, training hard, and chasing my little "chitlens" around again.
I have been busy attempting to keep up with the food intake that Oli has now begun. I make all of the baby food that our boys consume...Oli has DEFINITELY kept me on my toes and busy as ever. The boy eats non-stop, I swear. Maybe I feel so behind because when I had only Cole, I had all the time in the world to make this food, clean the house, get schoolwork done, and God knows what else I wasted my time doing. Now, they have me outnumbered and running like mad. That has to be the reason why I constantly feel behind, out of the loop, and unorganized. What a way to feel, huh? I just thank whoever is above me for the time I get with my boys. Watching them grow and change is such a remarkable experience that I never knew anything about until Cole and Oli graced our lives.
Cole has become quite the independent, defiant, and jubilant little 2 1/2-year-old. It seems as though we went from an independent, yet flexible child to a crazy, I do it my way when I want and how I want little boy in just a blink of the eye. I swear it happened over night. Some days, I feel as though all I do is put out fire after fire after fire in the house, but just when I am at my breaking point, Cole will turn the charm on and all is forgotten. I love those moments when it is just Cole and I and we have these in-depth conversations about such important things in life...you know- loaders, diggers, trucks, going potty, daddy, Papa, and of course....THE BOAT!!! How could we not talk about the boat, even one day of no boat talk is unimaginable. He certainly loves his papa and his boat as well as the ground that his daddy walks on!! Most days, I wonder what goes on his little brain....what a ride it would be to just crawl up there and get to experience first hand what is actually going through Cole's brain. Maybe, just maybe, I don't want to know because I will finally learn what he is thinking when he is doing that one thing that I absolutely hate. Who knows....I am thankful for naps and bedtimes at 8 because if it weren't for those moments, I would go nuts some days! Does that make me a bad parent?
I recently spoke with a local church (I know, I just mentioned "church" in my blog, odd!!) about sending Cole 2-days a week for half of a day of 3-year-old preschool. He needs the structure, the organization, and socialization. I think it would help to keep him challenged and well-balanced. I will miss him, but I will also love the time away from him as well. I hate to say it, but my baby needs time away from me too.
Oliver has made some huge milestones in the past few weeks....my baby boy is FINALLY sitting up completely by himself, throwing himself to the ground (that just sounds harsh), rolling around, and has begun to get up on both his hands and his knees and is rocking and pushing backwards. So far, he can slowly, but surely get across the living room floor backwards and is GREAT at getting stuck under things. This new found exploration has also allowed Oli to be more in tune with what is around him and not have the constant need/want/desire to always be held or in close proximity to me. Besides Oli's new found movement, he has become quite the eater as well. We have closed in on testing and eating almost all of the veggies and we are now beginning to learn the world of fruit. Boy does he love food. I am now only nursing morning and night . Oli is starting to feed himself some finger foods and is holding onto his sippy cup, but not quite drinking from it yet. Oli has started to join in on the bath fun with Cole, but he still stays in his tub. He may be 9 months now, but he still is a little peanut. At his check-up, his weight was in the 7%, head circumference in the 6% (he has my tiny head), and his height was in the 25%. He is so incredibly opposite from what his big brother has been.
Curt has been non-stop at work. A TON of over-time has been put in in the past month to help get the computers and network ready for the beginning of the school year. Cole has struggled with this and I have missed having my best friend around greatly. He leaves early and comes home late. Its amazing what we do for our families, but Curt goes above and beyond for us. We have taken such a huge hit financially this year with Curt's 20% and now my 20% cut too. I just keep telling myself that everything happens for a reason and this reason is just not known yet.
We also recently welcomed in a new addition to our family. I found out about a rescue organization near Portage, WI that was going under and was in financial trouble. The property was being auctioned off and there was still animals that desperately needed homes. I told Curt about the group and he immediately told me no, but the more I told him about the group and started showing him pictures the more he eased up. I have always had this dream of owning a black and white cat- a cow cat!! They happened to have a little boy by the name of JR who was a "cow cat." We went and met him and ended up falling in love and bringing him home. He has been the perfect addition to our family and we are now larger then ever! It is never a dull moment in this house with all of the animals, children, and other crazy things going on. JR is quite the big baby and happens to be MY baby. You see, the last cat, Annie (we still have her) was supposed to be my cat. She didn't turn out that way. She LOVES Curt and really doesn't care for me. I was so excited when he really took a liking to me. As I type, JR is right next to my leg snoozing away along with all 3 dogs. I have no clue where Annie is currently hiding.
Besides surgery, work, and new additions, I have kept busy with my training. In September, I will be training quite extensively for my very first 5K run. I am doing 5 days of boot camp, some swimming, A LOT of running, spinning, and pilates. My plate will be full, but I have come to really enjoy what I am doing and my trainer has been amazing. I am changing as a person and I feel as though I am becoming a better model for my boys.
Well, this is long enough. I guess it isn't as bad as I thought it was going to be...I had my ups and I had my downs, but isn't that how life goes???
Here's to an amazing Labor Day weekend full of fun, rest, and a little 5K action, wahoo!!!!
Signing off.....
Mama Bear
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
Flying on by....
It always has amazed me how life has felt like it was flying on by, but I swear that each year life just moves even faster. I had one of those rare "calm" mornings with my boys today. They woke up over an hour early which made me a bit nervous at first. Whenever they are up early it typically means that my day will be loaded with tears, temper-tantrums, and a lot of whining. Today, however, was blissfully serene and calm. Maybe it is the "calm before the storm," but whatever it was....it was beautiful!!
Oli nursed like a champ this morning (sometimes he gets a little busy and doesn't nurse as well when Cole is running around like a chicken with it's head cut off) and Cole was actually patient and willing to wait to eat breakfast until I was done with Oli. Cole wanted "mommy's cereal" so we sat at the table and ate our cereal and Oli ate his and we chatted about our dreams, Papa, and many other things. Don't worry....we talked about loaders and other construction vehicles as well.
The rest of the morning was picturesque. The boys played....Oli was entertained by Cole and I got to sit back and just adore my beautiful little boys. I also got to relish in how far Cole has come and how much he has really grown up. Today, he sat and "relaxed" on the couch and "read" his airplane book that we checked out from the library. He told me all sorts of stories while he was looking at the pictures. He also played with his boats. He totally imitated Papa when driving the boat and a few times I heard Cole say, "I gotta get a beer." Apparently, Papa and Daddy aren't the best of role models if he is telling his imaginary people that he needs to get a beer. Oh the joys of parenting!!
I just can't believe how much my little Cole has grown. He is walking, talking, running, jumping, and playing on his own. He is comprehending what comes next as well as what comes before. He recognizes and knows some of his colors. He is counting. He LOVES to read. Most importantly, however, he still will come back to me and lay his head on me for a back rub and some kisses. I hope that those little moments never stop. I thank whoever is above us everyday for the gifts and blessings that I have been given. I couldn't imagine two more beautiful little boys in my life or a better more handsome husband than I already have. Life is good....even if it is flying by!!
Today is the big day in Wisconsin....vote for Shilling or go home!!! In the words of Cole, "Bye-bye 'Panke'!"
Mama bear is signing off....VOTE today!!!!
Oli nursed like a champ this morning (sometimes he gets a little busy and doesn't nurse as well when Cole is running around like a chicken with it's head cut off) and Cole was actually patient and willing to wait to eat breakfast until I was done with Oli. Cole wanted "mommy's cereal" so we sat at the table and ate our cereal and Oli ate his and we chatted about our dreams, Papa, and many other things. Don't worry....we talked about loaders and other construction vehicles as well.
The rest of the morning was picturesque. The boys played....Oli was entertained by Cole and I got to sit back and just adore my beautiful little boys. I also got to relish in how far Cole has come and how much he has really grown up. Today, he sat and "relaxed" on the couch and "read" his airplane book that we checked out from the library. He told me all sorts of stories while he was looking at the pictures. He also played with his boats. He totally imitated Papa when driving the boat and a few times I heard Cole say, "I gotta get a beer." Apparently, Papa and Daddy aren't the best of role models if he is telling his imaginary people that he needs to get a beer. Oh the joys of parenting!!
I just can't believe how much my little Cole has grown. He is walking, talking, running, jumping, and playing on his own. He is comprehending what comes next as well as what comes before. He recognizes and knows some of his colors. He is counting. He LOVES to read. Most importantly, however, he still will come back to me and lay his head on me for a back rub and some kisses. I hope that those little moments never stop. I thank whoever is above us everyday for the gifts and blessings that I have been given. I couldn't imagine two more beautiful little boys in my life or a better more handsome husband than I already have. Life is good....even if it is flying by!!
Today is the big day in Wisconsin....vote for Shilling or go home!!! In the words of Cole, "Bye-bye 'Panke'!"
Mama bear is signing off....VOTE today!!!!
Monday, August 1, 2011
Teen Spirit.....or 2-year-old Spirit!
Wow....I am fairly certain that I have had my fair share of 2-year-olds and 2-year-old attitudes for like the next, I don't know, CENTURY!!!!! I know, I know, it will get worse- "Wait until he turns three, wait until he turns four, wait until he is a teenager, wait until he is 21!" I have heard all of these comments over and over and over!!! The honest truth is, however, I can wait. I will happily wait for those milestones because I don't want my baby to grow up. I don't want my baby to grow older and mature and no longer be just that, my baby!! Kind of odd that I am complaining about his attitude, yet not wishing for age to come quickly or maturity for that fact. Poor Curt, this is what he lives with....a wife and mother that is completely indecisive about life at times.
We had a very busy weekend, well, it has been an extremely busy 2 months!!! I still remember my summer off from school when I was pregnant with Cole. I had such horrible anxiety and fear and that summer felt like it would never end. I remember worrying that I would be stuck at home with my children and never having anything to do. I wouldn't ever be able to be an adult again. I will be honest, I LAUGH whenever I remember those thoughts and feelings. What was I thinking????? I was insane to waste my time worrying about that because, well, it never did happen. We are on the run constantly and this has been our busiest summer yet!!
We took both boys (along with a good majority of my family) to the Brewers game on Friday night. It was both mine and Curt's first experience at Miller Park. What a beautiful stadium it really is. Cole did "ok" for not having a nap and for having to drive to Milwaukee before hand. The night in the hotel wasn't the best overnight we have had, but we survived thanks to my boobs abilities to keep Oliver content and quiet for sometime. (Don't worry, I am not shy about hanging my boobs out for Oli or for talking about them- its a natural thing!!)
On Saturday, we came home and then had a pool party over at my brother and sister-in-law's house. We had a fab time and Curt and I were actually able to be somewhat like adults and have fun too!! We did a movie outside and enjoyed some nummy s'mores!! Sunday was supposed to be our rest and relaxation day, but we ended up needing to go to Rochester to pick up some fresh peaches from down south (Mmmm, makes my mouth water just thinking about it) and then we made 2 pit stops at the Hu Hot (Mmmm, again) and Trader Joe's. We did, however, end the weekend on a very quiet, relaxing note.
Today, I had my follow-up with my regular doctor for my gallbladder attack that I had last Wednesday. It appears as though surgery will be in my future, but I will learn more next week after the ultrasound and visit with the surgeon. I brought both boys with me to the doctor and let me tell you, that was a treat!!! Please note, there is A LOT of sarcasm built into that last sentence. I came prepared. I boobed Oli beforehand, I brought snacks for Cole, and it was to be a very short visit. Let me tell you, there was not enough preparation in this world for me to entertain and stop the 2-year-old attitude that has surrounded my little Cole. WOW!!!! I chased him up and down halls, I watched him chuck his bag of dried bananas across the room several times, and then I walked with a screaming Cole all the way back to the truck. Oli, however, was a smiling little gentleman the entire time. Cole's temper tantrums have continued throughout the day and ultimately ended in temper tantruming (like my made up word??) himself to sleep in his crib. We will just have to see what after nap will bring....I am hoping for a pleasant surprise and not just another tantrum. I am almost 100% positive that the people around me at the clinic thought I was nuts when I sat Oli down, put the diaper bag down, and plop went Cole on a timeout. I spoke to him, at his level, and used words like "happy, sad, make better choices, and mommy loves you, but the tantrum needs to stop." I am sure they loved the bag of dried bananas getting chucked across the room. Sometimes, I just want to make eye contact with the people watching me and say, give him a target, he has a great arm!!! Oye!!!!
In the end, though, I can't wish another day to go by because my babies are growing older and I am not sure how I will handle the business of "empty nesting" someday. I do, however, cherish my nap times and quiet in the house. Speaking of quiet, however, my time is officially over as I now hear Oli wrestling around in his crib. Damn him!!!
Here's to hopefully a calmer week and maybe even a happier, more cooperative Cole. I know, I know, like my mom always says, "What comes around goes around, I had it coming to me after what I was like as a child for my parents." Here's to a calm, serene, and peaceful week....oh boy!!
Love always,
The hopeful Mama Bear!!
We had a very busy weekend, well, it has been an extremely busy 2 months!!! I still remember my summer off from school when I was pregnant with Cole. I had such horrible anxiety and fear and that summer felt like it would never end. I remember worrying that I would be stuck at home with my children and never having anything to do. I wouldn't ever be able to be an adult again. I will be honest, I LAUGH whenever I remember those thoughts and feelings. What was I thinking????? I was insane to waste my time worrying about that because, well, it never did happen. We are on the run constantly and this has been our busiest summer yet!!
We took both boys (along with a good majority of my family) to the Brewers game on Friday night. It was both mine and Curt's first experience at Miller Park. What a beautiful stadium it really is. Cole did "ok" for not having a nap and for having to drive to Milwaukee before hand. The night in the hotel wasn't the best overnight we have had, but we survived thanks to my boobs abilities to keep Oliver content and quiet for sometime. (Don't worry, I am not shy about hanging my boobs out for Oli or for talking about them- its a natural thing!!)
On Saturday, we came home and then had a pool party over at my brother and sister-in-law's house. We had a fab time and Curt and I were actually able to be somewhat like adults and have fun too!! We did a movie outside and enjoyed some nummy s'mores!! Sunday was supposed to be our rest and relaxation day, but we ended up needing to go to Rochester to pick up some fresh peaches from down south (Mmmm, makes my mouth water just thinking about it) and then we made 2 pit stops at the Hu Hot (Mmmm, again) and Trader Joe's. We did, however, end the weekend on a very quiet, relaxing note.
Today, I had my follow-up with my regular doctor for my gallbladder attack that I had last Wednesday. It appears as though surgery will be in my future, but I will learn more next week after the ultrasound and visit with the surgeon. I brought both boys with me to the doctor and let me tell you, that was a treat!!! Please note, there is A LOT of sarcasm built into that last sentence. I came prepared. I boobed Oli beforehand, I brought snacks for Cole, and it was to be a very short visit. Let me tell you, there was not enough preparation in this world for me to entertain and stop the 2-year-old attitude that has surrounded my little Cole. WOW!!!! I chased him up and down halls, I watched him chuck his bag of dried bananas across the room several times, and then I walked with a screaming Cole all the way back to the truck. Oli, however, was a smiling little gentleman the entire time. Cole's temper tantrums have continued throughout the day and ultimately ended in temper tantruming (like my made up word??) himself to sleep in his crib. We will just have to see what after nap will bring....I am hoping for a pleasant surprise and not just another tantrum. I am almost 100% positive that the people around me at the clinic thought I was nuts when I sat Oli down, put the diaper bag down, and plop went Cole on a timeout. I spoke to him, at his level, and used words like "happy, sad, make better choices, and mommy loves you, but the tantrum needs to stop." I am sure they loved the bag of dried bananas getting chucked across the room. Sometimes, I just want to make eye contact with the people watching me and say, give him a target, he has a great arm!!! Oye!!!!
In the end, though, I can't wish another day to go by because my babies are growing older and I am not sure how I will handle the business of "empty nesting" someday. I do, however, cherish my nap times and quiet in the house. Speaking of quiet, however, my time is officially over as I now hear Oli wrestling around in his crib. Damn him!!!
Here's to hopefully a calmer week and maybe even a happier, more cooperative Cole. I know, I know, like my mom always says, "What comes around goes around, I had it coming to me after what I was like as a child for my parents." Here's to a calm, serene, and peaceful week....oh boy!!
Love always,
The hopeful Mama Bear!!
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