Our New Family Member

I hope everyone had a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!  My Christmas was joyful and calm this year and our New Year's partying involved me chilling with a good book.  For Christmas I received one very unexpected present from the man of the house, and that was a puppy.  The reason I say unexpected, is that I left the decision to get one up to him, and he told me the week prior to Christmas that he decided we were not going to take a puppy from the litter that our Labradoodle fathered.  I was disappointed, but figured he knew best as we women can get super emotional and silly when it comes to furry puppies. Our new addition is the spitting image of his furry father, and we named him Sullivan Brixx...aka Sully.  I always give my pets middle names, because I use the same principle with them as I do with children.  When they are especially naughty, a middle name comes in handy with the scolding.  Sullivan/Sully comes from the movie Monsters, Inc.  We call our youngest daughter Boo as a nickname, and have done so ever since she was roughly 18 months.  And what is Boo without a Sully? The name Brixx is a combination of his dad's name, Brinkley, and his mom's name, Dixie.

Sully is adjusting to life in our household fairly well.  He is nearly completely potty trained, but with that joy comes at least two nighttime potty breaks...he favors 2am and 4:15am, which makes for a tired mama in the mornings, especially because he thinks 4:15 is a prime playtime.  Little Stinker. As for our patriarch dog, he is adjusting less well. The first two days, Brinkley, who is completely MY dog, would have nothing to do with me.  By nothing, I mean he wouldn't even look at me. We would try and grab his head and force him to acknowledge my presence, and even then he would roll his eyes another direction.  He was miffed with a capital M. I deemed this quite unfair as my husband was actually the one that brought the "intruder" into the fold, yet I receive the punishment. As the days have gone by, I now see a pattern emerging that amuses me and perplexes me. Every morning, Brinkley loathes Sully. He wants nothing to do with him, and our sweet-tempered, never growling Labradoodle becomes quite testy. As the day progresses, he slowly warms to the puppy though, he tolerates his shadowing and doesn't act incensed if the puppy touches him.  By nighttime, he will usually go so far as to play and get frisky in the snowy outdoors with the offending fur ball. Each night I think, "This is it!  He has made the transition!"  But, then we go to bed, and start the next day in the exact same manner. As I type this, Brinkley is sitting on the opposite end of the couch with his back facing all of us. I liken it to the movie, 50 First Dates, where the girl in it has short-term memory loss due to an accident.  This guy falls in love with her and has to reintroduce himself to her each and everyday, hence the title 50 First Dates, because every date, to her, is like the first one.  At the end of the movie he leaves a video for her to watch and every morning to catch her up on her life, so she isn't shocked and afraid when she crawls out of bed.  It is like Brinkley completely forgets that the night before he was being chummy with Sully.

I have gone out of my way to make over Brinkley as much as usual, if not more.  Sometimes it falls flat and sometimes he loves me again.  I keep hoping that over time, they really will be friends. At least now I can get their picture together without too much issue.

Stop for the Season

Ah!  The holiday season is in full swing.  Despite our many and varied commitments around the holidays some of our normal obligations break for a couple of weeks, and I am super thankful for the reprieve in that area.  Our lives have been so busy, like many others' lives, but lately the trend has become that we don't even have our entire family together for one evening during the week. Not one.  I don't like that at all.  We have been going through a "something's gotta give" phase, mulling over what events we can let go here and there in order to hold onto one small shred of sanity as a family unit.

We have also been trying to strategically dodge the stomach bug that is making the rounds in our neck of the woods; no thanks to family members coming down with it and trying to expose us.  We love them all dearly and are thrilled to receive gifts...just not that one. Additionally, we have had extended family messing with our Christmas plans, switching things up at the last minute, which has complicated things as well.   Thus, making the holidays even more stressful than usual, and throwing in an element of travel into it that wasn't initially there.  It is no wonder that the emphasis on Christ's birth is lost during this season. Don't misunderstand me, I don't think our family is a special case, but rather we are more the rule than the exception.  Everyone is juggling and running.

I wish I could give everyone the gift of time this season. Time to stop. Time to relax.  Time to enjoy. Unfortunately, that is not possible, but I encourage you to take some time for yourself and your family.  Even the errands and the tasks that are valuable and beneficial, start to lose their value and benefits if you are spread to thin.  I know this from experience.

Here is to a peaceful holiday season for you and yours!  Or at the very least a peaceful day or two.

Hell Hath No Fury....

Nothing gets under my skin more than injustice.  When I feel like something isn't fair I still have that knee-jerk reaction of a 10 year old and have the propensity to complain or pout; however, when things are repeatedly unjust and perpetuated by the same people, time and time again, then watch out.  I can go from pouty to livid in a matter of seconds.  

The first thing that invokes my ire, is a repeated inequity that is bestowed upon my kids.  I am not cool with people playing favorites between them, ever. Love them both or get out of my face. Second, people that make excuses that translate as "you are not as important as this person or this other thing in my life," suck. When others tell you that they are unavailable to spend time with you because they are spending time with someone else or doing something else, then take a note...you are NOT important to them, no matter what they say with their words. Third, false promises, those are simply lies that are dressed up to make someone seem like a better person than he/she actually is.  It allows people to hide behind a false intent, when they probably had no inclination of following through in the first place. Fourth, if I have to repeatedly change my schedule to accomodate someone else, because it is THAT difficult to sync up schedules due to their narcissistic way of life, then again, it sends the message that I/my family is not important.  I would much rather someone just admit they are disinterested in us rather than pretend. 

As the holidays approach, which in general are a difficult time for me, I am faced with coordinating with people as described above. It is extremely frustrating to me, because I don't feel like I am the appropriate person to address the issues described.  Instead, I am a pawn being shoved from one spot to the next on this chessboard of life, no voice in the matter. This is becoming less and less okay with me. The silent fury that I have been asked to endure is bubbling over at an amazing rate, and I am not quite sure how much longer I can sit back. 

My Faithful Friend

My dog, emphasis on MY, is the most loyal little guy in the world.  If you are not a dog/pet person, I admit that I truly don't get that. Who wouldn't want to be loved unconditionally and have a constant companion that thinks you are the world? Last night, I was at a meeting for almost 4 hours, and when I returned my dog was happily waiting by the door for me. He leaps around when I arrive home to show that  he is overjoyed. The funny thing is, he wasn't home alone while I was gone.  Everyone else was with him but me. However, my husband commented that my little fellow wasn't even remotely social with the rest of them until I came home. He sequesters himself off by the door or window and patiently awaits my return. His level of devotion is endearing.

My dog recently became a daddy dog.  Yes, it was planned. We have wavered about claiming one of his offspring for our own, because as our current dog approaches middle doggy age, you start to think about the gap his absence would leave in our lives should something happen. Having one very much like him would be no hardship at all. However, there is part of me that thinks that our current dog would feel very displaced not being the only dog in the house. Having to share the attentions that we shower him with could quite possibly make him attitudinal. He is a jealous dog.  His little mind operates quite similarly to that of a child, believe me.  So, I remain torn about what to do.  It would be different if he had always been part of a "duo" of dogs, but he has been the main man his whole life.  But when I see a little face like this, all of my resolve to be a one dog family goes out the window.  I become a big puddle of puppy love goo.

Deep Thoughts....

Okay you won't find any really deep thoughts, but in response to the demand of my few remaining readers, I figured I needed to blog something.  The last few years or so, the onset of the holidays produce more than the average amount of angst and baggage, and my mind gets bogged down with sad memories, hypersensitivity, worry, stress, and all of those other not so charming feelings.  As a means of coping, I avoid. When I sit down to write anything, or blog, I am forced to have a time of introspection.  Since that is not a pleasant thing at this time of year, avoiding means not writing, which means I can escape any REAL evaluation of my thoughts or feelings.  I can plod along in my day to day life and pretend that everything is happy go lucky and I am not being impacted by past events that hover over me like a dark cloud.

Two weeks ago, I had my check-in with my cardiologist.  Things were mostly status quo, but despite my conscious decision to not delve into any of my mind crud on a daily basis, my heart has other ideas.  It takes the things from my mind, and translates them into a physical response; racing heart, palpitations, beating so loudly within my chest that I am aware of every heartbeat.  Let me tell you, THAT is annoying.  I mean, you take for granted that your heart is beating, but you know it is, because you are walking and talking and living.  However, when you FEEL every heartbeat, it becomes disconcerting and distracting. Noticing every skip or accelerated beat produces an edginess that I cannot adequately describe.  Not much has changed recently from a daily perspective regarding my regular activities, with the exception of my caffeine intake.  I was having one pop a day, not outrageous, but in hopes of alleviating these recurrent symptoms, my cardiologist said to try and cut it out of my life again.  I have also been working out regularly the last month which is not something he recommended I stop (darn!), but more on those two things in a moment.  Anyway, nothing specific raised his concern, nor sounded or appeared vastly different from my check 4 months prior, so it is likely, "stress".  How I loathe the power that stress has over me, and yes, I know I somehow ALLOW it to have the power, but my conscious efforts to not give it power seem to fail.  Read Here: I don't want advice right now, I am just sharing the state of affairs.

So back to caffeine reduction.  I cut out the pop, coffee, what have you, until yesterday.  I know better than to go cold turkey, which produced headaches each and everyday, growing exceedingly worse as time went on.  None of the tylenol or migraine pain relievers were doing the trick, so I caved yesterday.  Caffeine never "tasted" so good. My headache is gone for now, and I can function on a much nicer level than I was, much to my family's relief.  My exercising has been fairly regular for the last month, and I have even amped it up to daily the last week, despite headaches. I watched what I ate, having modest Thanksgiving portions and not over-indulging, and I gained 6 pounds!  Six freaking pounds!  Before you claim it is "muscle", I would argue I would have to look like Popeye to put on that much muscle in a month.  Am I bitter?  Yes. Now, I did not workout yesterday, first time in over a week, but that wasn't from a personal revolt at the injustice though I did FEEL that way. Rather, I was sick; experiencing dizzy spells and nausea.  Last night I felt like my bed was my own personal cruise ship to hell with all of the vertigo I was having.  Thankfully, this morning my stomach has unclenched and my world has righted itself, but I am being cautious.  I would prefer not to revisit those feelings any time soon.

Well, I can honestly say, this was not what I intended to blog about at all when I sat down to my computer.  I was just going to make my apologies for delinquency and move on, but at any rate it is a blog post. I am thankful for those of you that noticed my blogs were not updated, but now you know a little bit of how my mind works and why they have been sparse/nonexistent of late.

Never Judge...

A book by its cover.  I have always heard this bit of advice, and I have to admit, I completely disregard it. Cover art can actually tell me a lot about a book. In fact, it is the cover that often inspires me to flip the book over and see what it is about,  or conversely it makes me run the other direction. For instance, if anyone is scantily clad on the front of the book, forget it.  If there is skin on the front, there will definitely be skin IN the book, and if I am going to invest my time in something, it had better be worth my while.  Not to mention, if a book looks really dull because of the cover, I have found that it is likely a dull book. Classics are exempt from this rule of thumb, because most of those have very little cover art. I am not saying my plan is foolproof.  There is the possibility that I am missing some really great reads, but I am probably also not wasting as much time as I could be.

With the purchase of my Kindle, I find that I am even more drawn in by "covers". I receive daily emails touting free books or bargain buy books, and I could really get bogged down if I felt compelled to read the plot of each book.  Instead I scroll through until I see a cover that catches my interest, and I let the rest go.  I have downloaded books that once I got a few pages in, merited deletion from my Kindle, but for the most part, I have been pretty happy with most of the books I have gotten for free.

My other means of making educated book selections comes from my favorite book reviewer.  There is rarely a book that I don't like, if it comes highly recommended by my sister-in-law.  Check out her blog at www.bringonthebooks.blogspot.com. My kids make books a priority on their birthday and Christmas lists, because she helps them find books that match their personalities and interests.  Our house is overrun with books, much to my husband's chagrin, but to me, there is nothing like escaping to another world with a good book.

The Flood Gates Opened

This week has been a tough one.  I have been under the weather just enough that I have felt blah, but not enough to crawl in bed and stay there.  I manage during the day, and then crash hard by the evening.  That being said, that hasn't really been the tough part of my week.  The tough part has been, having to sort out what I perceived as a personal attack on me.  I spend a lot of time building walls around myself allowing only certain people a glimpse inside the walls. Frankly, I used to always act tough and respond with sarcasm to protect myself.  However, I think I am getting soft in my old age.  2011 was such a hard year, with so much loss, that in some ways it weakened my defenses.  My carefully constructed facades had leaks of emotion spurting out of them at the most inopportune times.  Crying in public is my least favorite display of emotion.  I would rather get angry or terse than have make-up running down my face and receive pity glances.  Truthfully, I don't know what do with criers myself, so being a crier is uncomfortable for me.  You can imagine the annoyance I felt, when this week I became a crier.  Assumptions were made and criticisms were given in such a way, that it was abundantly clear the person delivering these words knew nothing about me or my character. At first I felt angry, but as the attack continued, and it became evident to me this person considered my efforts a failure, I started to feel emotion well up within.  Desperately, I tried to hold back the tears, but they squeezed out anyway. The presence of my tears, did not soften the attack, and I tried to end the conversation as quickly as possible.  However, after this interchange, every time someone else asked if I was all right, the traitorous tears would start again.  No one believes, "Yeah, I am fine", when you have tears running down your cheeks.  Argh!

My husband often teases that "I am dead inside"a reference to Chandler in the old show Friends. That really isn't the case, I just know what things I can't let breakthrough, or I would be a mess on a daily basis.  But this assessment is becoming less and less of a reality as the years pass by. At this rate, it won't be long before I drown in a puddle of my own tears.  So do me a favor, if I look like I have been crying, just ignore me.  Don't ask, "How are you doing?" Obviously, if I look tearful, I probably was tearful, so let's assume I am not fine and move on, pretending that I am.  I am cool with pretending.

As the days have passed since the confrontation, I am feeling more like my old self; kind of feisty and ready to accept the challenge. With the return of these instincts, I am comforted.  These reactions and feelings are what I know, and what I can work with. Not everyone is going to like me, and that is fine, because I don't like everyone I meet either.  I need to let go of this desire to please everyone, and just focus on pleasing the One that matters most.  But, boy is that hard sometimes.....