Aren't we the lucky ones?!

If you met someone who is dopey, funny, loyal, loving and caring towards the same people you are, never even thinks a bad thing about you, and is always glad to see you, would you want to be friends with that person?


And for all of you thinking, "Wow, that's creepy!" - really think about it. I'm describing a non-creepy person, someone totally trustworthy.


Now, imagine if that person was actually a part of your family. Would you feel blessed? Grateful someone, somewhere, thought the two of you should be together for as long as fate allows? I am.


So when people ask me, "If it's so tough to find housing while having dogs, why don't you just get rid of them?" I don't get upset. It actually makes me pity them (obviously, I won't tell them that) that they don't get to have the kind of happiness my dogs bring to me in their life.


My dogs certainly have their downsides - sometimes they stink, sometimes they run into glass doors, sometimes they dig up my yard, and sometimes they cost me a whole lot of money in hospital bills. But then, so do my children - and "getting rid of" them isn't an option. So why would it be an option for my dogs? Aside, of course, from the responsibility of pet ownership, which I fully agreed to and knew what I was doing back when I was 22 and got these animals. Exceptional pet owners know that pets are not dispensible. If you must, you rehome them - but you simply do not "get rid of them."


Whenever The Husband deployed, it was Petey who would patiently sit while I cried into his fur. When someone attempted to break into my house when I was pregnant, it was Molly who went into protector mode and went on the attack. As my children learned to be kind to animals, it was Petey whose whiskers were methodically pulled out, and Molly who was trapped in a corner by a crazed, screeching baby in a walker.


My dogs are wonderful. They love my kids and protect them when we're outside; they lounge around the house all day and don't chew anything up except maybe a wooden puzzle now and again. They are super quiet when guests are over, they always wag their tails when I enter a room, and no matter what room I'm in, that's where my dogs are.


For two creatures who have given everything to me, protected me, slept under my children's cribs (ok, still sleep in my children's rooms), and are constantly on-guard with people who give off any sort of negative vibe...They are my family just as much as my children. And they deserve to be treated as such, no matter how old they get, no matter what medical problems come up, no matter no matter no matter.


I am saddened that those who ask me why I don't "just get rid of the dogs" will never have this kind of love to call their own. But then again, those who are simply given gifts usually don't appreciate what they have. It's those who work for it - picking up the dog poop, taking time to pull ticks, giving baths and going for walks and getting rewarded with unconditional love - those are the ones who appreciate it.


And aren't we the lucky ones? :-)

Choices and Drawers

Sometimes, the stress of life gets in the way of the journey. Lately, I've been under a lot of stress - and most of the time, I can handle it by filing it away in my brain, deep in the drawer labeled "Later." But I think that drawer is stuffed past its capacity, and it's overflowing into my "Right Now" drawer.

Which is unfortunate, because that drawer is specifically reserved for things like playing with the dogs, cuddling with the kids, shopping, and chocolate cravings.

When the contents of the "Later" drawer begin to spill out, I only allow myself one day of pity, and that only happens once every 5 or 6 weeks. That day, I rifle through the “Later” drawer and pull out my most stressful offerings. Those offerings, which are few, are bulky enough to warrant my pent up frustration at all the little, pathetic, not-too-impressive items (which, if I’m being honest, are the ones I have the most difficulty dealing with). So yesterday was my day of pity.

YESTERDAY….

My older dog, Petey, has a condition that, while not life-threatening, is hard to swallow. He who was once a playful, loving, eager-to-please and needy puppy has turned into a lethargic, loving, eager-to-please and needy dog. When he can’t stand up on his own in the morning, it breaks my heart a little, because I can see the desperation in his eyes to come over and say hello to me. When I let him out into the yard to play, he picks a spot in the grass and lies down, simply watching as Molly digs something or other out of a perfectly good patch of grass.

I want my dog back.

It’s also hard to constantly reassure The Boy that a bunch of men aren’t going to simply show up at our house and take away all his stuff. He’s very nervous about this – I can’t blame him, he has some cool toys – but what’s really hard is that every once in awhile, he’ll ask me if I might accidentally leave without him. When he brings it up casually, that’s when I know it’s weighing on his mind. Kids spin things up into such a frenzy in their little heads; trying to convince him that I would never leave him behind only confirms that it is possible to him, but what else can I do except tell him everyday that I would never go anywhere without him? (Just to turn around and go on a house-hunting trip for 5 days…)

And the Girl has turned into a screecher. She screeches simply to hear herself. When a simple "No" would suffice, she screeches. When she thinks someone is taking something that is hers (which is everything), instead of simply saying, "Mine!" she screeches it. She only whispers when she thinks there's a bird. I point out a lot of invisible birds to her. The Boy does too, then gives me a conspiratorial blink (he hasn't mastered the wink yet).

It got to the point where I threw a remote control at the wall, and had The Boy sit me down and say, "Why don't we talk about what's wrong? Can I get you a cup of tea?" while rubbing my back in his most soothing manner.

I want my old life back.

TODAY….

Today is a good day. While I do have a slight headache from the Mommy Juice and Bailey’s I imbibed last night while making fudge and (burning) brownies, I am content. Because my choices are simple:

1.      Be miserable.
This choice involves accepting my life for what it is: Not my own. I could lament over the fact that my house has not yet sold despite multiple promises from my realtor (who I have since realized isn’t in this to help me, it’s to help herself – which she’s doing a pretty poor job of), cry that I have to medicate one of my dogs for the rest of his life, work my fingers to the bone trying to make up hours at work so I can get paid for the vacation time I have to take, and feel resentful that from the moment I wake up until the moment I go to bed, my time is not my own. Even after the kids go to bed, there’s laundry, house cleaning, lunches to be made. In the shower, I am figuring out what to lay out for the kids’ outfits the next day – jeans or shorts? Then once everything is all ready for the next day, I put in another hour or two of work so I can hit that 40 hour mark in 3 days, because I don’t get paid vacation time. All of this coupled with the occasional nightmare from the kids, the realization that once again I forgot to eat dinner and only had half a bagel for breakfast/lunch – well, being miserable certainly would be easy!

(This is me. I didn't have any pictures of me being miserable.)

 

2.      Be happy.
This choice also involves accepting my life for what it is: Not my own. I could take joy in the tight hug I get each and every morning from The Girl when she first comes out of her crib, rub the very soft back of The Boy as he wakes up and smiles at me because he “missed” me all night, and scratch the ears of a dog who, while he can’t quite get up to see me, still wants to after 9 years of being a loyal and loving companion. I could enjoy the people I work with and realize that I actually enjoy what I do very much – not many English majors can say that 10 years out of college. I get to live in a very clean house, where I know where everything is and don’t have to look at piles of laundry all over the living room. I could eat only chocolate during the day and no one is going to scold me for it. I am having quite the adventure that very few people can claim to have.

(This is also me. I figured I would keep the theme.)

So, today I choose to be happy. It’s harder sometimes, but I learned a valuable lesson when I was younger: Fake it ‘til you make it. I checked my "Future" drawer just to be sure, and it's confirmed: I am thisclose to making it.