Its no great secret that one of the prerequisites for membership in our family is that one must be "robust," if you will. Hello, we all know my past and one of the reasons Travis began triathlons was weight control. Amanda is by no means fat, but she does watch her activitiy levels to ensure she doesn't gain, which she is prone to do. Nolan has always been complex.
I've used dietary methods to control his asthma and behavior in the past. Truly and honestly, that did work for him. When I was mistakenly diagnosed as a Celiac I made drastic dietary changes to my own diet, then omitted gluten from the kids' diets when a doctor suspected they might be as well. After genetic testing, we were pronounced OK (thankfully), but I did what we had to do to control our health. We lived.
Nolan is a big guy. He just turned twelve and is 5'6". He has grown three inches in the last five months, but only gained about eight pounds (that's awesome!). He wears the same size pants as Travis and an 8.5 or 9 shoe. I think in another six months he might just be taller than me, and I am tall- 5'8".
During our Celiac phase, the kids were seeing a pediatric gastrologist (I think that's right) who was a royal asshat. He was downright mean to the kids, especially Nolan. I've always taken great pride in the varied and healthful diets I fed the kids- lots of fresh produce, whole grains, minimal junk food and packaged foods. In front of both kids he told me the kids were both fat (yup, used that word) and that they would die if I didn't do something to get their weights under control. He told me to cut calories and carbs, to allow only minimal sugars (to include fruits) and get drastic. So, I did.
I was doing what a doctor told me to and I cut and cut and cut the calories and carbs, limited their fruits and sugary foods and I followed portion control like a crazy person. Nolan went to his sports practices and worked out three, four, sometimes five days a week. At one point, we would leave one practice which lasted about an hour and a half and go to football for two hours, two or three times a week. And he gained weight. So I became more diligent. And he gained more weight. I just about killed myself trying to "help" him and trying to figure it out, hoping that when he hit puberty he would stretch out and get a bit leaner. I've seen how he struggles and how mean other kids are. I listened to that mean doctor tell me about how I was killing my kids.
Coach Avery has been aware of Nolan's weight since November since the kids have to weigh-in for each tourney. Nolan has two wrestle kids much older than he at practice because there are no other big guys. He is immature and they have experience on the mats, and it both helped and hurt him. Coach asked me after Nolan's foot injury if he had gained weight, and he had, a bit, but it came back down when he was able to return to practice.
Last week during the kids' running practice (six one-hundred yard sprints, a three mile run, six more one-hundred yard sprints-they do it twice a week) Coach and I were talking about Nolan. Again, his weight came up and I asked him if he thought Nolan might need more calories. Most days the kids average about 1900-2300 calories. He told me that could be a part of the problem and he told me to try feeding the kids five small meals a day. I went home and did some research and found out for a kid of Nolan's stature and weight and age that he should consume about 4200-4400 calories per day to maintain his weight. TO MAINTAIN IT! Holy crap. I think I might have starved my kid's metabolism to sleep.
I decided that night to make some subtle changes. I bought some non-fat dry milk powder to add to things to boost our protein intake. I got non-fat plain yogurt and frozen fruits, whole wheat flour and just about went broke on fresh produce. I started baking some whole grain muffins and began fixing smoothies in the mornings. I chopped veggies up and put them in a container in the fridge and I keep it full. Now, they eat.
The smoothies are to give them a nutrition boost in the morning. Nolan's school serves breakfast free and he loves eating there, but their serving sizes are small and are probably only about 250 calories total for the meal. So, I make the kids each a smoothie with the NF yogurt, frozen fruit, NF milk powder, a bit of orange juice and ice. They average about 10 ounces and are about 250 calories.
I've added some additional veggies to their lunches. They were already taking carrot and celery sticks, but I got some jicama, extra cukes (I use them a lot) and broccoli and doubled what they take. I also got some cherry tomatoes for Nolan because he loves them and Amanda thinks tomatoes are the anti-Christ.
They eat again when they get home from school. I'm giving them LF cheese sticks, veggies (all they want) and a piece of fruit. And then we have our regular dinners. All in all, I think they've only gained about 500 or 600 calories per day, but I think the scheduling is just as important as the intake. And, all the calories are from clean protiens, produce and LF/NF additions.
Nolan was pissed at first about more attention to what he eats and he stayed that way all day. The next day, he had hurt feelings. Then, by Monday he was raring to go. He ate the way I had taught him and he felt great. He had an awesome practice Monday and woke up ON HIS OWN Tuesday morning when his alarm rang. And since then, he's been a different kid.
Of course, these changes could also be a result of the move going public. He is incredibly relieved that we are finally going to move. The night he found out he came to me and showed me what he was wearing to bed that night. He chose his white pajama pants with red hearts and his Fort Jackson t-shirt and asked me if I could figure it out. I grinned and said no, just so he could tell me it was that he loved Fort Jackson.
Last night was running practice. Over the last three weeks, Nolan had cut 27 minutes off thethree mile run. Yes, 27. Last night, he did both sets of sprints and the three mile run another ten minutes faster than his previous time, which was only the three miles. He finished strong, drank some water and then HE GOT TO WAIT ON HIS SISTER FOR A CHANGE!
Feed your kids. They'll stop being weenies.
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Just*Can't*Stand*It!
I walked in Haggerty and Company at 9:56, four minutes early for my appointment with Brian. The receptionist announced me and Brian appeared a couple of minutes later. I like a man who can be punctual. I like anyone who can be punctual, especially in a business setting. After a greeting and a handshake we went in his office to chat about this and that and mull over housely things.
After coming to our decision to move the family over the weekend I knew I would have to go over the particulars with Brian to make sure all the ducks were in a row. They are. He told me how our market is surging hugely and that our price bracket is not the hottest one right now. We would have to drop our price by about 3.6% to hit that, but Brian feels we may be in the right place right now. He did not encourage me to lower our price but did tell me it would increase our visibility. That is certainly something I need to discuss with Travis. But, we have time on our side and the kids and I aren't leaving until early in August. He said we don't necessarily need to drop our price until we actually vacate the house. I like that. Thumbs up. He also mentioned that the surge of troops which have just arrived here as a result of the recent BRAC at Fort Bliss have had a huge impace on real estate. The new residents are grabbing up the new home inventory and are seeking the best of the best deals. The next wave is coming very soon and he expects that by the time they are ready to make housing decisions, our new and existing home inventories will be dropping and homes like ours will be a hotter ticket. He also said that if the house has not sold by the time we move, we can do our part of the closing via e-mail and phone calls. Such a nice row.
I can't help but think I may have been grinning non-stop since Sunday. On the way to wrestling last night I couldn't stop saying stuff like, "Guess what? We're moving!" and, "Have you heard? We are leaving?" to the kids. You know, the way a little kid repeats the same Knock-knock joke over and over and over again? Or the way they say, "Guess what? Chicken butt?" Yeah, that was what I was doing. And it felt great. My eyes have misted over at least a dozen times since yesterday out of sheer joy. I*AM*MOVING!
Holy crap! I am going to have a life again. I am going to live with Travis again. With him. Holy crap!I've seen some pictures of myself taken recently and I have to say, I am looking a bit worse for the wear. I don't think it is entirely un-doable, with a little time I may be able to reverse the damage. I think I am maybe looking a bit like denim- worn, faded, maybe a bit frayed, but always reliable. I've been missing my vibrancy. Travis makes me vibrant. I can't imagine being near him and not feeling alive and colorful and full of excitement. He does that for me. How lucky am I?
My greatest pleasure will come once we settle in Columbia; once I can turn a dwelling into a refuge for him and begin to take care of him again. I love nothing more than to make dinner for him and help him detox from his day. I get to do that for him. I get to make his days easier. Lucky. I get to do that for an amazing man. And, in just under three months, I will do that on a regular basis.
I am looking forward to finding myself again. Funny, I am completely able to function on my own since I have had plenty of practice over the last seventeen years, but somehow I always find myself in Travis. I know who I am. I have confidence in myself. I do not "need" him to function. But when he is near me it feels almost like an awakening. His presence absolutely fills my heart. I will be vibrant and bright and awake and brimming.I am lucky. I am such a lucky girl.
After coming to our decision to move the family over the weekend I knew I would have to go over the particulars with Brian to make sure all the ducks were in a row. They are. He told me how our market is surging hugely and that our price bracket is not the hottest one right now. We would have to drop our price by about 3.6% to hit that, but Brian feels we may be in the right place right now. He did not encourage me to lower our price but did tell me it would increase our visibility. That is certainly something I need to discuss with Travis. But, we have time on our side and the kids and I aren't leaving until early in August. He said we don't necessarily need to drop our price until we actually vacate the house. I like that. Thumbs up. He also mentioned that the surge of troops which have just arrived here as a result of the recent BRAC at Fort Bliss have had a huge impace on real estate. The new residents are grabbing up the new home inventory and are seeking the best of the best deals. The next wave is coming very soon and he expects that by the time they are ready to make housing decisions, our new and existing home inventories will be dropping and homes like ours will be a hotter ticket. He also said that if the house has not sold by the time we move, we can do our part of the closing via e-mail and phone calls. Such a nice row.
I can't help but think I may have been grinning non-stop since Sunday. On the way to wrestling last night I couldn't stop saying stuff like, "Guess what? We're moving!" and, "Have you heard? We are leaving?" to the kids. You know, the way a little kid repeats the same Knock-knock joke over and over and over again? Or the way they say, "Guess what? Chicken butt?" Yeah, that was what I was doing. And it felt great. My eyes have misted over at least a dozen times since yesterday out of sheer joy. I*AM*MOVING!
Holy crap! I am going to have a life again. I am going to live with Travis again. With him. Holy crap!I've seen some pictures of myself taken recently and I have to say, I am looking a bit worse for the wear. I don't think it is entirely un-doable, with a little time I may be able to reverse the damage. I think I am maybe looking a bit like denim- worn, faded, maybe a bit frayed, but always reliable. I've been missing my vibrancy. Travis makes me vibrant. I can't imagine being near him and not feeling alive and colorful and full of excitement. He does that for me. How lucky am I?
My greatest pleasure will come once we settle in Columbia; once I can turn a dwelling into a refuge for him and begin to take care of him again. I love nothing more than to make dinner for him and help him detox from his day. I get to do that for him. I get to make his days easier. Lucky. I get to do that for an amazing man. And, in just under three months, I will do that on a regular basis.
I am looking forward to finding myself again. Funny, I am completely able to function on my own since I have had plenty of practice over the last seventeen years, but somehow I always find myself in Travis. I know who I am. I have confidence in myself. I do not "need" him to function. But when he is near me it feels almost like an awakening. His presence absolutely fills my heart. I will be vibrant and bright and awake and brimming.I am lucky. I am such a lucky girl.
Monday, May 18, 2009
... And There You Go
My Travis is amazing. No doubt, from what you've read you can easily ascertain that for yourself, right? If not, please accept 50 lashings with a wet noodle or other lashing tool of your choosing- and keep it to yourself. I don't want any of your lashing stories to muddy up my blog or nothin'. Pervert.
Several years ago, my dear friend and former partner, Mr. Randy, made an observation of Travis. He has one mood. This one. Oh, yeah, you can't see my impression of him. Basically, the one mood is one where he sits, quietly and takes everytihng in. There may be an occasional nod or hand gesture, but the mood remains the same. If there is a beer close by, the eyes may be slightly buzz-fuzzed, but the mood- you got it, unchanged. I am sure there are many a baby Soldier who would beg to differ from Mr. Randy's interpretation and prolly a useless NCO as well, but for everyone else there is just the one mood.
It has always kind of made me giggle a bit to myself that I can be a bit timid around Travis or when I have something important to talk to him about. I am NOT afraid of him in any regard and we can talk about anything. I just hate anything that would jolt him from The Mood, and I forget that there is not much that will cause the jolting. But, this weekend, after mulling it over and over and over in my own head for the last two weeks, I just kind of said it.
Travis called Sunday and it was the first time in a week that we had actually talked. We text almost daily, but it was a super-crazy week for him and with the time difference and wrestling every night and the tourney on Saturday, there wasn't much time for an actual conversation until yesterday. And boy, did we talk.
Phoenix's death opens up a lot of possibilities for us, as you may have heard me mention. Travis had purchased a car for Amanda at an awesome price and had intended to put a little money and a bit more time into it, but the time has yet to open up and the money... Well, you know. So, he decided to sell the car. Even without a working catalytic converter, it is in great shape and worth every penny of more than the $500 he would take for it (but we are asking more). It will be very easy to sell. So, sell it is. He wanted to use that money to put into the truck that currently lives with him and then finance a trip to El Paso with the possibility of taking the kids back with him and enrolling them in school there, leaving me here to finish with the house.
So, the discussion yesterday that I was afraid to initiate started with his trip here and taking the kids back and our summer plans, then I asked him how he would feel if we all came out and then we could get the kids enrolled and I would leave them there and come back to El Paso in August to finish up here, if the house hadn't sold. Then he said it, in his one-toned, one-mooded way, "Screw it, if you're coming here, you're staying here (not really exactly what he said, but I am trying to be gentle- remember, he is a crusty ole Sarge)." He told me to forget about El Paso alltogether and once we make the trip there, to stay there with him.
Our purpose for staying here was that without selling the house and all the money we lost on investments last year, we wouldn't really have the $2-3k we would need to set ourselves up in a rental house (deposits and the like), monthly rent, and pay the mortgage here. But, his apartment complex wont make us pay another deposit if we choose to upgrade to a larger apartment and they are dog friendly. And, leaving here means the utilities will go down a bunch and we wont have the $200-250 in utilities for the EP house, so we can put that toward the higher rent for another apartment. And cancelling the cable here will cut our cable bill by half, since he has it there too. So, if we are careful, keeping the house (if it hasn't sold) and moving into a larger apartment will actually wind up being slightly cheaper than the two full sets of household bills we are paying right now.
So, change of plans (if the house hasn't sold by then)- instead of Travis coming out (or maybe in addition to it), the kids and I will be relocating at the end of July or early in August permanently, or as permanent as Travis' assignment is, at least. I am so excited, in spite of the negatives. What are those? not a long list and it is really just trivial at this point, but- reduction of 1000 square feet of living space, no yard, trying to recalculate our finances AGAIN, leaving the house here empty, and the location of the complex is not exactly where we want to live and not in the school district we want. I can deal with all of it. Imagine, my family will be in one place again. I can actually be a wife again. I can move into my new ready-made life.
Closed doors. Open windows. With pine trees right outside.
Fort Jackson, SC- "Victory Starts Here"
Several years ago, my dear friend and former partner, Mr. Randy, made an observation of Travis. He has one mood. This one. Oh, yeah, you can't see my impression of him. Basically, the one mood is one where he sits, quietly and takes everytihng in. There may be an occasional nod or hand gesture, but the mood remains the same. If there is a beer close by, the eyes may be slightly buzz-fuzzed, but the mood- you got it, unchanged. I am sure there are many a baby Soldier who would beg to differ from Mr. Randy's interpretation and prolly a useless NCO as well, but for everyone else there is just the one mood.
It has always kind of made me giggle a bit to myself that I can be a bit timid around Travis or when I have something important to talk to him about. I am NOT afraid of him in any regard and we can talk about anything. I just hate anything that would jolt him from The Mood, and I forget that there is not much that will cause the jolting. But, this weekend, after mulling it over and over and over in my own head for the last two weeks, I just kind of said it.
Travis called Sunday and it was the first time in a week that we had actually talked. We text almost daily, but it was a super-crazy week for him and with the time difference and wrestling every night and the tourney on Saturday, there wasn't much time for an actual conversation until yesterday. And boy, did we talk.
Phoenix's death opens up a lot of possibilities for us, as you may have heard me mention. Travis had purchased a car for Amanda at an awesome price and had intended to put a little money and a bit more time into it, but the time has yet to open up and the money... Well, you know. So, he decided to sell the car. Even without a working catalytic converter, it is in great shape and worth every penny of more than the $500 he would take for it (but we are asking more). It will be very easy to sell. So, sell it is. He wanted to use that money to put into the truck that currently lives with him and then finance a trip to El Paso with the possibility of taking the kids back with him and enrolling them in school there, leaving me here to finish with the house.
So, the discussion yesterday that I was afraid to initiate started with his trip here and taking the kids back and our summer plans, then I asked him how he would feel if we all came out and then we could get the kids enrolled and I would leave them there and come back to El Paso in August to finish up here, if the house hadn't sold. Then he said it, in his one-toned, one-mooded way, "Screw it, if you're coming here, you're staying here (not really exactly what he said, but I am trying to be gentle- remember, he is a crusty ole Sarge)." He told me to forget about El Paso alltogether and once we make the trip there, to stay there with him.
Our purpose for staying here was that without selling the house and all the money we lost on investments last year, we wouldn't really have the $2-3k we would need to set ourselves up in a rental house (deposits and the like), monthly rent, and pay the mortgage here. But, his apartment complex wont make us pay another deposit if we choose to upgrade to a larger apartment and they are dog friendly. And, leaving here means the utilities will go down a bunch and we wont have the $200-250 in utilities for the EP house, so we can put that toward the higher rent for another apartment. And cancelling the cable here will cut our cable bill by half, since he has it there too. So, if we are careful, keeping the house (if it hasn't sold) and moving into a larger apartment will actually wind up being slightly cheaper than the two full sets of household bills we are paying right now.
So, change of plans (if the house hasn't sold by then)- instead of Travis coming out (or maybe in addition to it), the kids and I will be relocating at the end of July or early in August permanently, or as permanent as Travis' assignment is, at least. I am so excited, in spite of the negatives. What are those? not a long list and it is really just trivial at this point, but- reduction of 1000 square feet of living space, no yard, trying to recalculate our finances AGAIN, leaving the house here empty, and the location of the complex is not exactly where we want to live and not in the school district we want. I can deal with all of it. Imagine, my family will be in one place again. I can actually be a wife again. I can move into my new ready-made life.
Closed doors. Open windows. With pine trees right outside.
Fort Jackson, SC- "Victory Starts Here"
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Sighs and Signs
I've hoped for a long time this nightmare would all be coming to an end soon. No real news yet, so sorry if I got you out of your chair jumping up and down and turning cartwheels or something. I've just always been such a believer in the phrase, "Things work out the way they are supposed to." I am hoping our living situation is part of that addage as well.
Although I miss Phoenix dreadfully, I knew travelling to South Carolina would be incredibly hard on her. At nearly fifteen years old and crammed in a car with two Chihuahuas, a teen, a tween and all our luggage and miscellaneous crap, the two day drive would have made her so uncomfortable. She has always been an integral part of our family and her loss is glaringly evident, but it just feels like she was never supposed to make the trip with us. She was so peaceful on her last day and I know that letting her go was the best thing for all of us.
I've had a few things on the "Things I Need to Do Before Leaving El Paso" list for a while. It seems that those things are starting to diminish. Before moving, I wanted to go to Glendale and visit my mother and on a last-minute whim over Spring Break, we picked up and went. It worked out, I didn't over-spend, the dogs did great, the truck did great and we all had a great time. I also wanted to get up to Albuquerque again as well. Nolan and I went up the last weekend of February for wrestling and got a quick visit in with both my nephew and his family and with my sister. When I said, "Quick," I meant it. Now it looks like we may have another chance to head up at the end of this month if Coach Avery decides to take the team to Albuquerque for another tourney. That would mean I could plan better for the weekend, both kids can go and with just the two little dogs, taking them with us or finding someone to keep them for us is much easier.
I've got four years of this house's crap accumulation and the ten years from before when we lived in quarters on Fort Bliss piled up around me. I've known I needed to weed through it and from time to time, I have. I've been doing a few drawers here and a shelving unit there, but this week I've been moved to get it done. This morning I did half the crap in our big dresser. I did our dressers a few weeks ago, but that was more of a rearrangment than a decrappification. Today, decrappification took over. I still need to work on the rest of the dresser, and I will, but I had to walk away for a while. After that, I started working on my closet, where darkness dwells. I don't know why the sudden urge to purge is striking me now, but I am glad it is. I do not want to take any more useless junk along for the ride again.
Our last wrestling tourney will either be this weekend or at the end of the month (remember?), so the season is winding down nicely and just in time for summer. School lets out the second week of June. Travis has been planning to make a trip out and timing with the unit has gotten in the way twice. He is now hoping to be able to make the trip in early June. He also mentioned taking the kids back with him. I nearly had a stroke when I thought about not having the kids with me, but I had to remind myself what the last fifteen months have been like for him. He has not had any family with him, aside from the eight days we visited last June, for the duration of this assignment. He is the one who always has to leave the kids. This may actually work out well. If the kids do go back with him and the house has not yet sold, Travis can enroll them in school there and they can start the year without being disrupted by moving. Also, he can request stabilization if Amanda is attending her Sophomore year of high school in the same city as his assignment. Requesting doesn't mean we will get it, but still, we can make a request. Plus, his apartment complex will allow dogs under 25 pounds, so if we want to stay for an extended visit, we can. Win/win.
Brian and I spoke a couple of days ago. He is holding another open house this weekend and maybe a third next weekend. The family that made the offer is still considering their options and we are still a prospect. He is stll in regular contact with their agent. I am confident he will have the house sold within our contract term. It expires in mid-July. I am not stressed the way I was with our previous agent. I stay pretty relaxed and feel like he is doing everything he needs to do to unload this house for us.
I go on CraigsList regularly to look at rentals in South Carolina. After Travis being there for so long, he has a great idea of where he wants us to live based on the schools and safety and various other things. We know we will be renting until he retires because I am not w
illing to go through anything like this ever again. So, rentals... I want a four bedroom with more than 1800 square feet. I know what we can afford and I have very strict criteria regarding the style of home I want. I need a house big enough so that if and when my mother is ready to move in with us, she wont feel cramped or like she is putting us out. I found that house months ago on Craigs, but we were not ready to go and I sat, looking at the listing for about five weeks. It was the perfect house. Two days ago, I saw the listing posted again. It will be available in June. It is a four bedroom with a FROG (Furnished Room Over Garage- essentially a fifth bedroom), 2500+ square feet, two-car garage, fenced back yard, 2.5 bath, laundry room and EVERYTHING ELSE! And, once we sell this house, we can easily afford it. I am trying not to get excited. The picture of the house is the house I found. It is awesome!
illing to go through anything like this ever again. So, rentals... I want a four bedroom with more than 1800 square feet. I know what we can afford and I have very strict criteria regarding the style of home I want. I need a house big enough so that if and when my mother is ready to move in with us, she wont feel cramped or like she is putting us out. I found that house months ago on Craigs, but we were not ready to go and I sat, looking at the listing for about five weeks. It was the perfect house. Two days ago, I saw the listing posted again. It will be available in June. It is a four bedroom with a FROG (Furnished Room Over Garage- essentially a fifth bedroom), 2500+ square feet, two-car garage, fenced back yard, 2.5 bath, laundry room and EVERYTHING ELSE! And, once we sell this house, we can easily afford it. I am trying not to get excited. The picture of the house is the house I found. It is awesome!So, falling into place, or luck or God or whatever the source of all this is, it is starting to happen. I am at ease and I believe we are on our way to being on our way.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Things I Haaa.... Don't Like Much
I just feel a need to gripe today. Lucky you.
1.) Long cigarette lady- Yes, the one I mentioned earlier. I am still miffed about her. I've noticed small piles along the sidewalk in front of the house for a really long time, on both sides of the walk. Our neighborhood is super-old, so our sidewalks have yard on one side and a sliver of yard about four feet wide on the other (and the street on the other side of that). We have a rock yard and we do keep up with it constantly. We lived in military housing for the better part of 13 years and we DO know how to pick weeds, mow grass, trim shrubs and pick up trash and other (a-hem) "matter" which happens to find its way into the yard. Most of my neighborhood does not know how to do these things (because surely if one had the knowledge, one would apply it to the task at-hand). I have, indeed, also noticed a proliferation of ciggie butts in the yard. We (collectively, all four of us) do not smoke and we are outnumbered by about 85% of our neighborhood. I have no problem with smokers as long as smokers take care of their bizniz and keep it outta mine. AND, my dogs have never crapped anywhere in the neighborhood aside from their own back yard or Kelly's back yard. AND, if they did crap somewhere in the 'hood, I would pick it up. Why? IT IS THE LAW!!! I am fully confident that I know who the offenders are as the kids and I all witnessed them Friday when we were coming back to the house after the house shoppers (who never showed) were supposed to come. She saw us pull into the driveway, with her long cigarette wedged in between her bony talons and her scrawny Cocker Spaniel hunched over on it's leash, and never once flinched or apologized or looked back at the vile pile they left behind. I just don't like her now.
2.) The chick that sat next to me this morning at the band and orchestra concert at the elementary school- It is never in good taste to show up at your fifth grader's school in your work clothes if you are employed in the adult entertainment industry. There is always the possibility that I am wrong about your career, but I have sat in enough classrooms in my day to have learned the application of context clues. Your breastage, however lovely and siliconic and expensive it may be, ought not be hovering on the edges of the danger zone as you sit in the front row digging in your purse (on the floor) for your gum and your digital camera. Also important notations- costume jewelry on a body should never outweigh the body or be "blingy" enough to blind the orchestra teacher (that just isn't nice), lucite footwear (both with and without ankle straps) in excess of three inches should not be worn in public before the street lights come on, a g-string may be worn for any occasion providing that it is fully covered during occasions attended by a populous with an average age of eleven, the presence of one's body fragrance of choice cannot mask one's body odor, even on the occasion that one may retrieve the gallon-sized jug with convenient spray cap from one's purse on the floor in front of them in order that they may apply it in the presence of twelve other parents and the entire fifth and sixth grades.
3.) The parents of this morning's performers at the elementary school (aside from the twelve of us that showed)- Dude, even if you hate elementary school performances and kids and schools and administrators and music, your kid is performing. You prolly should be there. You don't have to enjoy your kids' activities, but I am sure they would love to have you there to witness them doing something they enjoy. I can't believe you didn't show up. I forgive you if you were absolutely not able to be there because you or a child were ill or your wanker boss wouldn't give you time off or if your car broke down on the other side of town. Otherwise, you suck. And, if you come and you don't like being there, fake like you did. It is good for your kid.Now I am tired.
The list is so long, but I need to stop before my fingers fall off.
1.) Long cigarette lady- Yes, the one I mentioned earlier. I am still miffed about her. I've noticed small piles along the sidewalk in front of the house for a really long time, on both sides of the walk. Our neighborhood is super-old, so our sidewalks have yard on one side and a sliver of yard about four feet wide on the other (and the street on the other side of that). We have a rock yard and we do keep up with it constantly. We lived in military housing for the better part of 13 years and we DO know how to pick weeds, mow grass, trim shrubs and pick up trash and other (a-hem) "matter" which happens to find its way into the yard. Most of my neighborhood does not know how to do these things (because surely if one had the knowledge, one would apply it to the task at-hand). I have, indeed, also noticed a proliferation of ciggie butts in the yard. We (collectively, all four of us) do not smoke and we are outnumbered by about 85% of our neighborhood. I have no problem with smokers as long as smokers take care of their bizniz and keep it outta mine. AND, my dogs have never crapped anywhere in the neighborhood aside from their own back yard or Kelly's back yard. AND, if they did crap somewhere in the 'hood, I would pick it up. Why? IT IS THE LAW!!! I am fully confident that I know who the offenders are as the kids and I all witnessed them Friday when we were coming back to the house after the house shoppers (who never showed) were supposed to come. She saw us pull into the driveway, with her long cigarette wedged in between her bony talons and her scrawny Cocker Spaniel hunched over on it's leash, and never once flinched or apologized or looked back at the vile pile they left behind. I just don't like her now.
2.) The chick that sat next to me this morning at the band and orchestra concert at the elementary school- It is never in good taste to show up at your fifth grader's school in your work clothes if you are employed in the adult entertainment industry. There is always the possibility that I am wrong about your career, but I have sat in enough classrooms in my day to have learned the application of context clues. Your breastage, however lovely and siliconic and expensive it may be, ought not be hovering on the edges of the danger zone as you sit in the front row digging in your purse (on the floor) for your gum and your digital camera. Also important notations- costume jewelry on a body should never outweigh the body or be "blingy" enough to blind the orchestra teacher (that just isn't nice), lucite footwear (both with and without ankle straps) in excess of three inches should not be worn in public before the street lights come on, a g-string may be worn for any occasion providing that it is fully covered during occasions attended by a populous with an average age of eleven, the presence of one's body fragrance of choice cannot mask one's body odor, even on the occasion that one may retrieve the gallon-sized jug with convenient spray cap from one's purse on the floor in front of them in order that they may apply it in the presence of twelve other parents and the entire fifth and sixth grades.
3.) The parents of this morning's performers at the elementary school (aside from the twelve of us that showed)- Dude, even if you hate elementary school performances and kids and schools and administrators and music, your kid is performing. You prolly should be there. You don't have to enjoy your kids' activities, but I am sure they would love to have you there to witness them doing something they enjoy. I can't believe you didn't show up. I forgive you if you were absolutely not able to be there because you or a child were ill or your wanker boss wouldn't give you time off or if your car broke down on the other side of town. Otherwise, you suck. And, if you come and you don't like being there, fake like you did. It is good for your kid.Now I am tired.
The list is so long, but I need to stop before my fingers fall off.
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
Spiral
I am thouroughly exhausted. Utterly, but I stayed up late tonight to watch a show on MTV I've been dying to see, "Steve-O, Demise to Rise." I first became familiar with him the same way most of us did, through "Jackass." I never quite "got" the show or the idea behind it. I just chalked my disdain for the program up to my being too old. Sure, I tried to watch, but most times I would sit with the clicker in my hand and my head cocked sideways with my eyes all squinty wondering what the Hell would catapult someone, anyone, to this level of stupidity. Ah, addiction. That's it, but I didn't know it at the time.
I began to appreciate Steve-O during this season of "Dancing with the Stars," and you can keep your opinion of DWTS to yourself. I like it and there is an abundance of estrogen in this house right now. Mommy usually wins the clicker wars. He was partnered with Lacey and from the first episode I knew I wanted to see more of him. On occasion, his recovery from addiction was brought up in the vignettes shown during the show. He is a very charming person and seems very lovable in a high school boy kind of way- very innocent. I know, he's not.
So, when I saw that there would be a show chronicling his addiction and the early phases of his recovery, I knew I had to watch. I've had a front-row seat to the addiction circus for going on thirty years now (not my parents). I was completely unaware of what was really going on with those involved when I was a kid. I had no idea there was anything wrong with them because I was either oblivious or they hid it well. Regardless, I started to have my awakening to the addictions around me around the time I turned eightteen. And then, I thought there was something I could do about it. Just like everyone has to learn at some point, there wasn't, isn't, ain't never gonna be.
Later in the evening last night, I got a text message from a friend that lives far away from me. It read, "**** passed away April **." After a couple more texts back and forth, my friend agreed to call me today and let me know what she could after she spoke with ****'s husband. No one wants those kinds of texts and I spent a long time last night thinking about things.
I came to know **** through the friend who texted me. I won't be getting specific about "how" I knew her because that would be disrespectful to her family and that is incredibly important to me at this point. But, those two ladies along with a couple of others and myself had plenty of time to get to know each other during a certain period of time not that long ago. She was another Army wife. She had two kids and a husband who did love her. She had also been a nurse at one point.
As I was getting to know her I saw her taking some very high-powered drugs. I saw her shaking when she had gone too long without this one or that one or some combination therein. Everything was prescribed, and therefore, in some ways justified, sort of. She always seemed so tortured when it didn't seem to me that she should have been in that state. No, I didn't understand. I don't think I ever will. I just knew that something just didn't seem quite right about what she was taking and the manner in which she was doing so. I kept my mouth shut.
I don't think I would have ever really called her my friend but accquaintance seems very removed from what she was. I don't know. I know I was not her favorite person, but for a time, I think I was part of her circle. I'm not too sure how she fit into mine. At one point, I might have even called her a nemesis. Around the last time I saw her, I would have likely just classified her as just someone I knew.
As I've aged and watched addiction in my life, I've developed my own little set of coping tools and have become really good at building the defenses I truly needed to protect myself. That gave me the ability to easily walk away when my addiction radar began to emit a certain tone. Still does. Quite frankly, I don't have time to deal with that brand of crazy. It is crazy and this world has handed me enough that I can't slow down to make addiction a stop on my journey. I just don't understand how someone can let that happen to themselves. Having been ill, I also can't grasp how someone can take that kind of gamble with their life. I WANT to be here.
She was making mistakes which could have ended very, very badly. I knew about some of those mistakes and I wasn't alone. I just wasn't aware of how bad it really, really was. It is scary to draw attention to that kind of situation. I am not sure exactly how to report it. I didn't know her husband. And, being perfectly honest, as any Army wife can tell you, telling on someone is a great way to make your own life more difficult (and that word, difficult, is an understatement). No one wants to be involved in someone else's bad business. And, I was afraid. I really didn't want to hurt her, even though I knew she was hurting herself and others. And I didn't want to hurt me.
Again, out of respect for her family, I will not be specific about details of her life and death. I will say that she spent the last year spiraling downward with occasional episodes of recovery. She had MANY chances to improve her situation (MANY), and she did try. I didn't know until today all of what was going on and I don't think there would have been anything I could have done to aid her or her family prior to her death. I do know my presence would not have been appreciated since I welcomed the distance from her when it occurred. Things had apparently been looking better for her when her demons came back raging. She wasn't strong enough to fight them this time and not just the battle, but the war was lost.
Now, a Warrior is also a widower and the single parent of two kids who will always wonder some of the things I do, along with why she did these things to their family. They have every right to both love her and hate her in the same breath. I can't imagine how they will heal but I hope that healing begins very soon and that it comes as naturally as it can.
Steve-O is well for now. Recovery doesn't come in a neat package. More often, it comes in a screwed up ball of crap that doesn't make sense until it is untangled. Even then, maybe not so much. Steve-O was the subject of an intervention during which several people gave him no choice and put him in a nut-house, from which he entered a rehab facility and later a sober-living home. He felt weak during the early months of his recovery and committed himself to a mental institution again a second time, because it is what he wanted. He didn't get well for someone else, but those someone elses prompted him to enter wellness.
I think Steve-O values what he has now. I think he sees that life is a heck of a lot more than huffing nitrous and dropping PCP and drinking by the gallon, all at the same time. Maybe the fact that he has recorded most of his life on video since he was a teen has helped him gain some perspective about what he has done to himself. I think he has found his value. And, thank God he is brave enough to share those videos with a demographic struggling through more chemical influences than any other before them.
I encourage you to watch the show with your kids. DVR it, ask someone else to tape it or do whatever it takes to ensure you and your kids have a chance to see this show together and that you talk about it. Talk about it openly and be honest with your kids. Teach them what you want them to learn so they can protect themselves. You wont always be able to be there to assist them in making their decisions, so teach them how to do it for themselves. They will hear you and hopefully they will listen.
And if there is a next time experience for me, I will do something or say something. I will be smart enough to do it. I do not blame myself or anyone else for what **** did to herself. I do not wonder, "What if." I do know that she was not ready to make change for herself and the outcome proves it. But, if there is a next time, I will.
How awful to die alone and impaired. How much more awful to be the children left behind.
I began to appreciate Steve-O during this season of "Dancing with the Stars," and you can keep your opinion of DWTS to yourself. I like it and there is an abundance of estrogen in this house right now. Mommy usually wins the clicker wars. He was partnered with Lacey and from the first episode I knew I wanted to see more of him. On occasion, his recovery from addiction was brought up in the vignettes shown during the show. He is a very charming person and seems very lovable in a high school boy kind of way- very innocent. I know, he's not.
So, when I saw that there would be a show chronicling his addiction and the early phases of his recovery, I knew I had to watch. I've had a front-row seat to the addiction circus for going on thirty years now (not my parents). I was completely unaware of what was really going on with those involved when I was a kid. I had no idea there was anything wrong with them because I was either oblivious or they hid it well. Regardless, I started to have my awakening to the addictions around me around the time I turned eightteen. And then, I thought there was something I could do about it. Just like everyone has to learn at some point, there wasn't, isn't, ain't never gonna be.
Later in the evening last night, I got a text message from a friend that lives far away from me. It read, "**** passed away April **." After a couple more texts back and forth, my friend agreed to call me today and let me know what she could after she spoke with ****'s husband. No one wants those kinds of texts and I spent a long time last night thinking about things.
I came to know **** through the friend who texted me. I won't be getting specific about "how" I knew her because that would be disrespectful to her family and that is incredibly important to me at this point. But, those two ladies along with a couple of others and myself had plenty of time to get to know each other during a certain period of time not that long ago. She was another Army wife. She had two kids and a husband who did love her. She had also been a nurse at one point.
As I was getting to know her I saw her taking some very high-powered drugs. I saw her shaking when she had gone too long without this one or that one or some combination therein. Everything was prescribed, and therefore, in some ways justified, sort of. She always seemed so tortured when it didn't seem to me that she should have been in that state. No, I didn't understand. I don't think I ever will. I just knew that something just didn't seem quite right about what she was taking and the manner in which she was doing so. I kept my mouth shut.
I don't think I would have ever really called her my friend but accquaintance seems very removed from what she was. I don't know. I know I was not her favorite person, but for a time, I think I was part of her circle. I'm not too sure how she fit into mine. At one point, I might have even called her a nemesis. Around the last time I saw her, I would have likely just classified her as just someone I knew.
As I've aged and watched addiction in my life, I've developed my own little set of coping tools and have become really good at building the defenses I truly needed to protect myself. That gave me the ability to easily walk away when my addiction radar began to emit a certain tone. Still does. Quite frankly, I don't have time to deal with that brand of crazy. It is crazy and this world has handed me enough that I can't slow down to make addiction a stop on my journey. I just don't understand how someone can let that happen to themselves. Having been ill, I also can't grasp how someone can take that kind of gamble with their life. I WANT to be here.
She was making mistakes which could have ended very, very badly. I knew about some of those mistakes and I wasn't alone. I just wasn't aware of how bad it really, really was. It is scary to draw attention to that kind of situation. I am not sure exactly how to report it. I didn't know her husband. And, being perfectly honest, as any Army wife can tell you, telling on someone is a great way to make your own life more difficult (and that word, difficult, is an understatement). No one wants to be involved in someone else's bad business. And, I was afraid. I really didn't want to hurt her, even though I knew she was hurting herself and others. And I didn't want to hurt me.
Again, out of respect for her family, I will not be specific about details of her life and death. I will say that she spent the last year spiraling downward with occasional episodes of recovery. She had MANY chances to improve her situation (MANY), and she did try. I didn't know until today all of what was going on and I don't think there would have been anything I could have done to aid her or her family prior to her death. I do know my presence would not have been appreciated since I welcomed the distance from her when it occurred. Things had apparently been looking better for her when her demons came back raging. She wasn't strong enough to fight them this time and not just the battle, but the war was lost.
Now, a Warrior is also a widower and the single parent of two kids who will always wonder some of the things I do, along with why she did these things to their family. They have every right to both love her and hate her in the same breath. I can't imagine how they will heal but I hope that healing begins very soon and that it comes as naturally as it can.
Steve-O is well for now. Recovery doesn't come in a neat package. More often, it comes in a screwed up ball of crap that doesn't make sense until it is untangled. Even then, maybe not so much. Steve-O was the subject of an intervention during which several people gave him no choice and put him in a nut-house, from which he entered a rehab facility and later a sober-living home. He felt weak during the early months of his recovery and committed himself to a mental institution again a second time, because it is what he wanted. He didn't get well for someone else, but those someone elses prompted him to enter wellness.
I think Steve-O values what he has now. I think he sees that life is a heck of a lot more than huffing nitrous and dropping PCP and drinking by the gallon, all at the same time. Maybe the fact that he has recorded most of his life on video since he was a teen has helped him gain some perspective about what he has done to himself. I think he has found his value. And, thank God he is brave enough to share those videos with a demographic struggling through more chemical influences than any other before them.
I encourage you to watch the show with your kids. DVR it, ask someone else to tape it or do whatever it takes to ensure you and your kids have a chance to see this show together and that you talk about it. Talk about it openly and be honest with your kids. Teach them what you want them to learn so they can protect themselves. You wont always be able to be there to assist them in making their decisions, so teach them how to do it for themselves. They will hear you and hopefully they will listen.
And if there is a next time experience for me, I will do something or say something. I will be smart enough to do it. I do not blame myself or anyone else for what **** did to herself. I do not wonder, "What if." I do know that she was not ready to make change for herself and the outcome proves it. But, if there is a next time, I will.
How awful to die alone and impaired. How much more awful to be the children left behind.
Monday, May 4, 2009
A Calming
We first met her the day she was born. Randy took us to the corner where she and her siblings were nursing while Marlene held our curious Amanda. Her mother, Misty, had known us for quite some time so she watched us cautiously as she allowed us to pick her up and greet her and welcome her into our family. When we gave her back, Misty carefully inspected her and began to clean her, and then Misty allowed us to pet her while we thanked her for being so generous to us. That was September 15, 1994.
We got to visit her whenever we wanted since Randy and Marlene lived just around the corner from our quarters at Fort Riley. She came to know us and her eyes were always lit up with excitement when she saw us. She was the oldest of the litter and bigger, even, than her brothers. She was the "little mother" of the litter.
She actually came to live with us the first week of November and from that moment she fit right into our home. She loved our Lahsa Apso Mimi and loved our baby, even though it took a little while for Amanda to warm up to her. Once they did team up, they were always together. Amanda even used to climb in her kennel and close the door, at which, Phoenix would bark her high-pitched "telling on you" bark she would come to be known for. Amanda would giggle uncontrolably at that.
She was a runner and would bolt out the door whenever she had the chance, especially in her younger years. Travis loved to take her out when he ran, but he never quite got the chance to do that as much as he wanted. She was his dog and she knew it, but she so loved me and Amanda.
She did great when we moved from Kansas to El Paso and then six weeks later to Glendale. While we were staying with my parents during the Haiti deployment, she scratched up the wood floors and managed to cause my father to fracture his foot. She escaped regularly and the neighbors came to know her and love her for her sweetness. They would call when she would walk up in their garage to hang out with them and then remind me of what a great dog she was.
Once we moved back to El Paso, she seemed to settle right down and that was just before her second birthday. She had mellowed and become a really great dog. She loved to walk with us and run and allowed our toddler kiddo to pull her around the house constantly, never complaining.
We lived on Biggs Field when Nolan was born and she instantly took a liking to the baby. She never growled at me when I came close to him, but everyone else was fair game. She would squeeze between Nolan and Travis when they would lay on a blanket and play and then put her "arm" over the baby and fall asleep, or she would rest her chin on his tummy while he kicked and cooed. When we would get ready to leave and we would have Nolan in his carseat, she would rest her chin on the edge of the seat and "babysit" him until it was time for her to go to her box so we could leave.
As he grew, she learned to love every baby and most toddlers who would visit our house. She loved when we moved to the house on Garcia Circle because she had a great back yard to roam that had no stickers and always had some kind of shade to lay in. She would try to eat our tomato plants and later our watermelon plants and happily jog away when we caught her, as if nothing had happened. She also refused to let me open the door late at night. She would stand between me and the door and growl with the hair on her back on-end if I ever reached for the knob. She also loved to escort the kids around the back yard, always watching them.
She lovingly accepted every dog I brought into the fold, and grieved for our Mimi when we had to put her to sleep at the age of thirteen. She adapted well to the new house and to Travis' coming and going for schools and deployments. During his second visit to Iraq she bacame deathly ill with an infection and had to have emergency surgery, from which she eventually recovered. She had to stay at the vet clinic for almost a week before she was allowed to come home and in that time, she won the hearts of everyone there, like always.
About a year later she began to have problems with her rear legs. We took her to the vet and were lucky enough to see Dr. McCabe at that visit. He knew everyting about her and suggested x-rays to see what was going on. He told us her spine was calcifying and that eventually she would lose feeling in her rear legs. He also told us what her body would eventually do as a result of the problem. He put her on medication which she was never able to adapt to, so for the sake of her digestive system and at the doctor's recommendation, we helped her lose five pounds and put her on fish oil. She did really well. Dr. McCabe told us then that her eyes still had a lot of life in them and she would let us know with her eyes when she was ready to go.
That was almost two years ago and I have been so grateful for that time. We have all had the chance to watch her age gracefully and loving her has taught the kids so much. When she had rough days, they would encourage her gently or wait for her patiently to get up so they could put her outside. They would lay on the floor with her when she needed extra affection or walk her to the corner and back so she could exercise her legs a bit. When she would fall, they learned how to help her up without hurting her. They loved her through those last two years. And up until last week, she still wanted to play and "tell on them" with her silly bark.
She'd had a rough weekend. She fell once badly Saturday and twice Sunday. At bedtime last night, it took Amanda and I half a slice of her favorite whole wheat bread and half an hour to coax her to her kennel. She didn't wake me up in the middle of the night to go potty like usual, and when the alarm went off at 6 this morning and I realized she hadn't barked for me to come get her at all, I knew something was wrong. She barely made it out of her box and it took a lot of guidance to help her outside. She fell again when she came in and I knew what I had to do.
I got her back in her bed, took Nolan to the doctor for his allergies, took him to school and asked Kori to help me get her to the vet. Phoenix always hated to be picked up, but she allowed me to do it today when I realized she would never be able to walk out to the truck. We got her settled and went to the vet.
The doctors at Northeast Veterinary were wonderful, like always, and allowed me to say my goodbyes and love her to the end. The doctor agreed the spark was gone from her eyes today. She never fought the catheter or her injections and she went quietly, with love.
I will truly miss our girl.
We got to visit her whenever we wanted since Randy and Marlene lived just around the corner from our quarters at Fort Riley. She came to know us and her eyes were always lit up with excitement when she saw us. She was the oldest of the litter and bigger, even, than her brothers. She was the "little mother" of the litter.
She actually came to live with us the first week of November and from that moment she fit right into our home. She loved our Lahsa Apso Mimi and loved our baby, even though it took a little while for Amanda to warm up to her. Once they did team up, they were always together. Amanda even used to climb in her kennel and close the door, at which, Phoenix would bark her high-pitched "telling on you" bark she would come to be known for. Amanda would giggle uncontrolably at that.
She was a runner and would bolt out the door whenever she had the chance, especially in her younger years. Travis loved to take her out when he ran, but he never quite got the chance to do that as much as he wanted. She was his dog and she knew it, but she so loved me and Amanda.
She did great when we moved from Kansas to El Paso and then six weeks later to Glendale. While we were staying with my parents during the Haiti deployment, she scratched up the wood floors and managed to cause my father to fracture his foot. She escaped regularly and the neighbors came to know her and love her for her sweetness. They would call when she would walk up in their garage to hang out with them and then remind me of what a great dog she was.
Once we moved back to El Paso, she seemed to settle right down and that was just before her second birthday. She had mellowed and become a really great dog. She loved to walk with us and run and allowed our toddler kiddo to pull her around the house constantly, never complaining.
We lived on Biggs Field when Nolan was born and she instantly took a liking to the baby. She never growled at me when I came close to him, but everyone else was fair game. She would squeeze between Nolan and Travis when they would lay on a blanket and play and then put her "arm" over the baby and fall asleep, or she would rest her chin on his tummy while he kicked and cooed. When we would get ready to leave and we would have Nolan in his carseat, she would rest her chin on the edge of the seat and "babysit" him until it was time for her to go to her box so we could leave.
As he grew, she learned to love every baby and most toddlers who would visit our house. She loved when we moved to the house on Garcia Circle because she had a great back yard to roam that had no stickers and always had some kind of shade to lay in. She would try to eat our tomato plants and later our watermelon plants and happily jog away when we caught her, as if nothing had happened. She also refused to let me open the door late at night. She would stand between me and the door and growl with the hair on her back on-end if I ever reached for the knob. She also loved to escort the kids around the back yard, always watching them.
She lovingly accepted every dog I brought into the fold, and grieved for our Mimi when we had to put her to sleep at the age of thirteen. She adapted well to the new house and to Travis' coming and going for schools and deployments. During his second visit to Iraq she bacame deathly ill with an infection and had to have emergency surgery, from which she eventually recovered. She had to stay at the vet clinic for almost a week before she was allowed to come home and in that time, she won the hearts of everyone there, like always.
About a year later she began to have problems with her rear legs. We took her to the vet and were lucky enough to see Dr. McCabe at that visit. He knew everyting about her and suggested x-rays to see what was going on. He told us her spine was calcifying and that eventually she would lose feeling in her rear legs. He also told us what her body would eventually do as a result of the problem. He put her on medication which she was never able to adapt to, so for the sake of her digestive system and at the doctor's recommendation, we helped her lose five pounds and put her on fish oil. She did really well. Dr. McCabe told us then that her eyes still had a lot of life in them and she would let us know with her eyes when she was ready to go.
That was almost two years ago and I have been so grateful for that time. We have all had the chance to watch her age gracefully and loving her has taught the kids so much. When she had rough days, they would encourage her gently or wait for her patiently to get up so they could put her outside. They would lay on the floor with her when she needed extra affection or walk her to the corner and back so she could exercise her legs a bit. When she would fall, they learned how to help her up without hurting her. They loved her through those last two years. And up until last week, she still wanted to play and "tell on them" with her silly bark.
She'd had a rough weekend. She fell once badly Saturday and twice Sunday. At bedtime last night, it took Amanda and I half a slice of her favorite whole wheat bread and half an hour to coax her to her kennel. She didn't wake me up in the middle of the night to go potty like usual, and when the alarm went off at 6 this morning and I realized she hadn't barked for me to come get her at all, I knew something was wrong. She barely made it out of her box and it took a lot of guidance to help her outside. She fell again when she came in and I knew what I had to do.
I got her back in her bed, took Nolan to the doctor for his allergies, took him to school and asked Kori to help me get her to the vet. Phoenix always hated to be picked up, but she allowed me to do it today when I realized she would never be able to walk out to the truck. We got her settled and went to the vet.
The doctors at Northeast Veterinary were wonderful, like always, and allowed me to say my goodbyes and love her to the end. The doctor agreed the spark was gone from her eyes today. She never fought the catheter or her injections and she went quietly, with love.
I will truly miss our girl.
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