As Good As It Gets

Well, it appears as though the earth is still spinning on it's axis. As far as I can tell anyway. For a minute there it felt like we were careening off into a black hole. It was precisely 8:45a.m. when I felt it. The same time Isaac walked into his kindergarten class.

You know, I was doing just fine. I was good. Tim and I got him on the bus without so much as a tear from any of us. Plenty of smiles, a little anxiety. Then I left Tim to get the girls on the bus and I went to Isaac's school to help with bus duty. Everything was a little chaotic and while I was lining up kindergartners with their teachers Isaac came up behind me and grabbed my legs. There were tears glistening in his eyes and his frown was trying not to tremble. But I was OK. I was still good. He obviously was not but I had to keep us altogether and save face. I got him to his teacher along with another little girl who was showing the same signs of first dayness. I took his picture and like the good boy of a photographer he is he forgot about everything else and smiled for the camera.

Good. He was good. I was still good. We were all good.

Then everyone started to walk into the school and I looked around ready to help with all those confused little people and realized none of the other parents were going in. The sidewalks were clearing and my heart started firing off signals to my brain...not good, not good, this is NOT GOOD. I looked around at the other parents and they were all just chatting with each other on the sidewalk and smiling. I had my smile in place but the earth was spinning a little faster (I could feel the wind pick up). Words started popping in my head like "are we just going to let them go?!" and "don't they need our help?!" and "WAIT! HE'S LEAVING!!!" But I squelched them all because I knew deep down in my heart.... I was insane.

"Good" was being sucked away by that vortex of a black hole and the earth was picking up speed. I thought I was PREPARED, I had spilled my tears a week before over EVERYTHING. Isaac was beginning school and the girls were going to 5th grade and moving on to the intermediate school. I had cried for the days that were gone and the days ahead that would make our family forever "different". I had done my emotional homework. I was all caught up. How was this sneaking up on me?! I had gotten a puppy for chrissakes!!!

It was because of my almost 41 years of life experience that I didn't burst into tears and start running in circles screaming "MY BABY IS GONE, MY BABY IS GONE!" Instead I held my smile in place and slowly walked to my car, putting one foot in front of the other until almost all thoughts of hysteria had passed.

I did it. Isaac did too. He was going to be OK. And I was still good. Well....mostly.

We Love Ya Olive!

She's here. Our new dog. Four month old Olive is an Australian Cattle Dog and Beagle mix and something else that has webbed feet. Maybe duck. She's cuter than snot and sick as a well, a dog. We picked her up yesterday from the vet where she was transferred from animal control. They said she was dehydrated and needed antibiotics. She has a cough and a runny nose and unfortunately she didn't come with a copay, we had to shell out the entire amount. She sounds like she's trying to hack up a furball every 30 minutes or so. Last night I wanted to give her one of Isaac's breathing treatments for asthma.

Right now we're thinking her middle name might be Oyl. But it's still up in the air. We really won't know her middle name until the first time I yell at her. Olive Ann! Olive Marie! I'm not sure I can yell Olive Oyl and mean it. Guess it depends on how much trouble she's in.

At this point she is a very chillin' kinda dog. I'm thinking that's the illness and that will all change shortly, about the time the kids are back in school and I'm going to have to keep her busy. My sister told me that her husband asked her why I was getting a dog and she replied "Well, when the girls were going to kindergarten she had Isaac so now Isaac is going to kindergarten so she needed a dog." At first I thought this was less the accurate but after thinking about it a little she might have a point.

By the way Tim, I really shouldn't get a job because Olive is just a pup and she's going to need a full-time mom.

Love ya Olive!

Poo-Poo Pants and Olive

Well, I get to keep my pants on for another day, another doctors appointment. I would consider this a good day except for the fact that I get to keep my pants on because I feel like poo-poo and therefore I'm not going to my gynecologist appointment this morning. However, there's that poo-poo part that's really deterring from my good day. I wonder if the gynecologist knows that he's going to have a good day since I'm not going to hack all over him. Maybe someone should call and tell him.

I got this cold on Friday and I must say I haven't had a cold this bad since I was pregnant. If you've ever been pregnant and had a cold you know it's worse than any other illness you've ever endured. If that sounds dramatic it's because well, it is. For some reason the amount of mucus you produce is enough for a small village when you have pregnancy hormones surging through your body. If you haven't gotten a cold while you're pregnant then there's a 50% chance that you're a man. If that's the case then I feel you should be injected with estrogen and progesterone and then a cold virus. It's only fair. Let me know how you're doing.

I do have good news to share. We have a new member joining our family starting tomorrow. Her name is Olive and she's a Australian cattle dog and beagle mix. She's four months old and she looks a bit like a mistake. I'm guessing the owners of the cattle dog and beagle probably thought she was a mistake too - but whatever. She's cute and very sweet and we'll be picking her up tomorrow from the vet after she gets her girl goods gone. So today we will be spending the day cleaning our rooms and picking up every little toy and gem and car and piece of plastic that has no name or home and getting rid of it!! Well, not really getting rid of EVERYTHING (I have a dream...) but some things. And then we'll have a discussion on dog care and rules we need to follow and by Saturday all those rules will be forgotten, but at least I will have given my lungs a good workout.

I finally picked up my prescription for my strange rash yesterday and it cost $150. Yeah that's dineros, dollares, all for a rash. I'm thinking I'll put this under my eyes as well because for that price it should get rid of wrinkles too. Shoot for that price I'll be sticking it on every skin anomaly my kids have. It's like the dad from My Big Fat Greek Wedding and his Windex. Wonder if Olive has a skin condition...

Well this whole blog attitude has got me thinking it's time for a shower and some coffee and maybe a mimosa. I'm kidding!! I never drink before 10am. Especially when I'm under-the-weather. I always wait till at least 10:30.

Dog Days of Summer

I finally broke down and started looking for a dog. The kids have no idea because, well, that would be insane. I've pretty much consumed my entire week shuffling my kids off on various people so I could dog hunt. I've been to the same shelter 3, no maybe 4 times and animal control just as many. I've also been with 4 different people. There are big dogs and little dogs and cute dogs and down right freaky dogs. There are some perfectly lovely family pets out there but I haven't felt the "you're my dog" feeling. I've felt the "I don't know what's going to happen to you and you really need a home feeling", but that's different. Maybe I'm expecting too much but you know, I don't want to get my family in a situation with a dog we can't live with. And let's face it, this dog HAS to be interesting because I'll be blogging all about it. So it's in all of you're best interests that I wait for the right dog.

What's funny is that I have several dog names picked out already. It's like I'm five months along. What's even funnier is that I'm not going to tell you what they are because you might influence my decision or worse find my dog and steal my dog name.

No, really, I'm not telling.

There has been alot going on other than just my neurotic dog hunt. Isaac is worried about college. He was watching an episode of Drake and Josh (teen show on Disney channel) and he came into the kitchen to tell me that he didn't want to go to college because there are bullies there and maybe he'll be a teacher so he doesn't have to worry about the bullies. I told him he was really too young to worry about college, he had a good 12 to 13 years before he went (even Drake and Josh are only in high school) and that he didn't have to worry about bullies just yet. He seemed not at all appeased by this but he went back in to finish his show. He came back five minutes later and looked up at me with sad eyes and said "I'm really worried about college." (Really should have studied that family tree a little harder before we procreated.) So, I told him we would just focus on kindergarten for now and not worry. He thinks I don't understand. I know this because he looks at me like "you really don't get this do you?" I really hope there aren't any bullies in kindergarten.

The girls are getting pumped about school I think. Well, Maya's getting pumped, Eva might just be getting anxious. (Is there an in-utero anti-anxiety pill?) I picked up new backpacks and got some good deals on second-hand clothes for all of them. And I came home without a penny in my pocket. I sometimes wonder why I don't just take our checkbook and throw it out the door everytime Tim gets paid. It would probably be an improvement in our money management style.

Went to the dermatologist on Wednesday to get my funky rashes checked out. Yeah, I know, more than you wanted to know. But I was happy to say it was not a bad visit to the doctor. I of course, judge a good visit as one where I get to keep my pants on. So now you know that my funk was not in a more ah, personal place. Next week I have another doctor appointment and it won't be a "good" one. Hey,you win some, you lose some. The dermatologist took a small biopsy from my arm. He punched a little tiny chunk out and then put one stitch in. It didn't bother me at first, it didn't even hurt. But now I'd like it back. I'm not sure why - I just feel like a piece of me is missing. Probably because it is. Sure, it's a piece of funked out skin but it's my funked out skin! Maybe I need to meditate more, or just some.

I think it's obvious that I need a little furball in my life so I have something else to worry about other than my missing epidermis. Maybe I'll get two dogs and then I could just throw my credit cards out in the front yard too!

Wow. I can't believe summer break is almost over. And yeah! Summer break is almost over! As usual I'm torn in a bipolar split that keeps me feeling like I'm always on the edge of sanity. It's motherhood - a bipolar disorder. If I ever write a book that's going to be my title. Don't steal it.

We've been having a great summer. We had a great family vacation in the hills of Alabama, the girls have been swimming their hearts out in swim team, Isaac has gone from swimming like a cat in bathwater to a fish in the ocean( a fish in a large flotation device and turtle goggles that is.) I just returned from a fabulous girls weekend from Blowing Rock, NC with Tim's mom and sisters. (We went zip-lining because we are such extreme adventurists you know.) And don't ask me about the Blowing Rock because we didn't actually see it there was far too many other things to do like eating. It's all been just fabulous. But I find it tends to be more fabulous when I'm not with my children 24/7.

I think I started out the summer on a positive note which is far better than most years. And that was a fairly good first three days and then things kinda went downhill after that. It's usually about a week into summer when I start questioning why I don't have a job and I realize I was never meant to be a stay-at-home mom. Sure, I've been doing it for 10 years but I think it's all just a fluke that it worked out this way. (A fluke that the doctors called baby "A" and baby "B".) But I've hung in there, six weeks into summer vacation and no one's gotten seriously injured. I've shunned a few children and bitten off some heads. Thankfully they were mostly my own children. Some unsuspecting child of mine would walk up to me and ask me the same thing that I'd just answered two children ago and I would respond with "WHAT??!" and "go away" and "I'm sure it's not bleeding that bad, just put a band-aid on it". It's love at it's lowest point. Or they would say something totally uncalled for like "mom". Hey mom this and mom that and it only took hearing the word 50 times in one hour and my head would start to spin wildly around and my eyes bug out and I would begin to drool like a werewolf. Not my best look.

Speaking of lowest points - Phoebe finally kicked the bucket. Actually, we took her to the vet and they helped her with the kicking. It's sad. It was an awful day but we knew it was time and I knew Tim was taking her to her final destination, not me. I think Tim knew that too when I said "Tim, I'm not taking her". We stayed away from home that entire day but eventually you have to come home to an empty house. I'm still looking around for her and hearing her which makes me sad and almost makes me want to get another dog. Almost. The kids want a puppy yesterday. Tim and I are enjoying the dog-poop-free life right now. So we'll just see what the future brings.

Well, I think that's a pretty good summarization of our summer so far. There of course is so much more to share that I'm sure I'll write about in future blogs. It's been fun, thrilling with a lot of crap thrown in but hey, at least we don't have to scoop it anymore.

Locusts Coming Soon

Where the heck have I been? Well, I'll tell you. Dodging 100 year flood waters and the apocalypse.

The flood part is true although I was only dodging the high water in the streets of my neighborhood in a vain attempt to take my kids to garage sales during our recent monsoon. I'm sure you've heard (unless you live in a hole) that Indianapolis and south of Indianapolis were hit by about 10 inches of rain. It's hard to understand how much rain that is unless you've seen it so let me just put it in perspective for you - it's a hell-of-a-lot of rain. Hope that helps.

The apocalyptic part is several things together - the flood, the heat (our air conditioner is on it's way out) the dog (she's STILL on her way out) I put a quarter tank of gas in my car and it cost $25 (hey, it feels apocalyptic) and the most catastrophic event this summer - the end of school.

Yes, we've been doing the summer thing for an entire week now. Which means I'm exhausted, broke and I only made $27 at our garage sale after a week of cleaning things out, pricing, bickering with my children, and considering upping my dose of pro-sanity pills. (You may know them as anti-depressants. I'm trying to be a glass half full kinda girl.) What did I get for my week of running and scrambling, sleepless nights because of the dog that's on her last leg or at least 3rd to the last leg? A flood and a broken air conditioner?! And did I mention $27 at my garage sale? I told the kids they would get a cut so that brings me down to about $15. That's two days worth of gas. Yippee.

I know things could be a whole lot, lot, worse. At least that's what I keep telling myself. We're not homeless, although we're hot, we're still alive and well (not including the dog of course) and we're not homeless. Hey, I'm a work in progress. I'm not like those artist blogs I've read that are all sunny and happy and hopeful - I hate those people. Ok, hate is a strong word. I really get disgusted and gaggy when I read that happy crap. (About those pills.....)

The bigger bummer, yes the bummers get bigger, is that my sister-in-laws lake house was flooded by the rains and the dam (can I say damn?) was partially washed out. That could mean our weekends at the lake would consist of looking at more mud than water. I'm an adult, I can deal with this kind of disappointment (with a little help from my pharmacist :) but my kids not so much. That and the fact that Fido is about to be fish food (I'm still working through this) could make this (and I know I sound like Eva) the worst summer ever. Wait, let me do that justice - THE WORST SUMMER EVVVVEERRRRRRRRR!!!!! What's really going to top it off is when Phoebe finally kicks the bucket and I tell Maya that we're not going to replace her with a puppy. I should probably just go ahead and order Maya some pills too.

So that's all the good news I have to share today. As I'm sitting in my den roasting like a wiener over hot coals I'm looking at the grass in our front yard that is so tall it's gone to seed and thinking it's just a matter of time before the locusts arrive.

Oy

It's days like these that bring me closer to my long lost, Jewish roots and all I can think to say is....oy. My Jewish roots are very long and lost mind you but they're still there. Is "oy" Hebrew? Makes me feel bilingual.

Anyway, it's the dog. Phoebe. Our dog. The light of our lives. That might be pushing it a little bit but she hasn't been well lately and she's 12 years old. Somehow impending death elevates you in the heirarchy of family life. It also brings about certain privileges like becoming a couch dog when you were never allowed to be a couch dog. And then becoming a bed dog when your owners put stuff on the couch so you can't be a couch dog. And then a chair dog... you get the picture.

Everyone seems to see the obvious path here pretty clearly except for myself. She doesn't seem old enough to me. It seems to me when I was growing up our dogs always lasted a good long 15 years. It might have something to do with the fact that my mom would cook our dog Bo a special meal of hamburger, corn and rice because he had congestive heart failure and that was all he would eat. I'm thinking my mom increased our dogs longevity this way and probably paid for a few extra vet visits to keep 'em going. And here I am cooking chicken breast for my dog and spending $180 on bloodwork that will probably show something very enlightening like she's old.

But twelve is not old it's just middle age old. She should still have 3 good years in her. Sure they might be years of peeing in corners of the living room and leaving gifts of poop on the carpet but these are the years that make you think "ok, she can go now, I've had enough - God love her." It makes it all a little easier.

And here I've been thinking my kids have no idea what's going on. I'm trying to shield them until the inevitable. And how will we tell them? Will we give them a chance to say good-bye or will Phoebe go to live at a farm? Maya was overheard telling her cousin that when she gets a puppy (because Phoebe obviously won't be around much longer) that she would really like a smaller dog. Guess I don't have to worry about "the farm" story with her.

So the thought of an upcoming puppy will help Maya through this. Eva and Isaac will definitely have a hard time with this. Then there's Tim who told me about the cute puppy he saw at the vet this morning when he took our dying dog in. Traitor.

I guess it's just me I have to deal with now and Phoebe. Oy.