Cold Weather Wins

It is 50 degrees outside right now. And it's raining. Everything is wet and kind of cold.

I closed all the windows yesterday when it became clear that we were in for a cold, wet day. I put on my sweatshirt and long pants and socks. I weakened and said maybe would should turn the heat back on.

The kids gave me a pretty good imitation of myself, declaring our furnace off for the summer. Including the warning I gave to anyone who thought they might turn on the heat, just for their showers.....

So I wore winter pajamas to bed and was warm and toasty.

Until I got up this morning. BRRR!

I figured I'd warm up as I exercised. I did. I was hot and sweaty and considered, briefly, of turning on the fan. Thank goodness I did not. Because after a bit, I was back down to really, really, really cold.

And the thought of taking a shower in that walk in freezer we call a bathroom was so horrific, I caved. I turned on the furnace.

Cold weather, you win. I can only force myself to believe summer is here for so long, when I'm faced with the physical proof that it is not,

Goosebumps and chattering teeth = turning on the heat.....at least long enough to take the edge off!

A Sign Of Summer

A sure sign that it is summer, or that I am going to force it to be summer whether it feels like it or not, is that I have turned the furnace off.

Yep. The heat is off at our house, as of June 25.

The windows are open, even though my daughter posted on facebook that she was sooooo cold.

It might not be hot, it might even be hovering around just warm, but I am determined to treat the end of June like the start of summer.

Is my winter quilt off my bed? Well, no. I like having the fan in the window blowing chill air in all night long, and it's actually a tad brisk. I've kept the quilt on, but last night I did think it was almost time to fold it up and store it in the bottom of my closet.

Sprinklers and Popsicles anyone? It's going to hit 70 today, I just know it!

The Teaching and The Learning

My son and I are an awful lot alike.

Except when it comes to my teaching skills and his learning from those skills. It's not even that we are oil and water and just don't mix.

We are more like gasoline and a lit match. Explosive.

It could be that we are too much alike, and his frustration is my frustration and we feed off each other. Whatever it is, the only thing I successfully taught him was how to use the toilet like a big kid.

And that was one of the hardest experiences of my life.

His learning to drive is the second hardest, beating learning to tie his shoes and riding a bike by about a million gazillion points.

He is a good and cautious driver. He is safe and smart and attentive.

I am a terrible direction giver.

By mutual consent and an epic 'pull the car over, good I don't want to drive with you' fight, we have moved Dad into the lead driving instructor. Makes me a little sad, because it is proof that I am not as calm, cool and collected as I thought I was. It has become very apparent that I am none of those things when it comes to my kids. I am passionate about them in a wildly intense way.

To the point that driving around with that much intensity sitting next to you in the passenger seat might possible be stressful.

Sorry, my first born most like me child, but the good news is I have never gotten a speeding ticket or a fender bender. I like to think that you'll take after me in that way too!

One Of Us Is A Fickle Thing

Is it Time or is it me?

Some days Time drags on so slowly, one hour feels like three, and nothing is happening to warrant a slow down....as in, I am not having fun, let's fast forward to the fun stuff.

But then we get to the fun stuff, the stuff I want to take my time with, to savor and enjoy and Time flies by faster than Superman, as in, faster than a speeding bullet.

Tonight our daughter graduates from eighth grade. Two years ago, when our son left middle school behind, it was exciting. High school on the horizon! Now it's our youngest, and it's not quite as exciting.

It's always been that way for me. The oldest going first, forging the way, and each new step is so thrilling. Then our youngest starts to make those same steps and my excitement is bittersweet.

I can think this is the last day in preschool, or elementary school, or middle school. This is the last moment I have a baby, a toddler, a pre-teen. But it's the other moments that slip by that I would really like Time to slow it's roll, like the last moment a snuggle up was asked for, the last time blankie made an appearance, the last time little legs claimed exhaustion and begged to be carried.....

Those are the moments I really would like to have Time slow down on. Not just a slow down, but maybe Time could tap me on the shoulder and whisper in my ear, "This is the moment you want to remember."

Because, I, in all my fickle glory, tend to race through those moments with my thoughts on what will happen next.

I think I felt Time tapping, and I know I heard a whispered reminder. Watching my almost 14 year old daughter gracefully move through a crowd of her peers, her confidence and poise and all around loveliness shining bright, this is a moment I want to remember.

Emma Has Been Ill

Stop the presses! Stop everything! Nothing should be getting done until Emma is back in the Beagle glow of good health.

I think it's harder on me as a Mom when the dogs are sick. With the kids, they have voices and are able to articulate what is wrong. With the dogs, if one doesn't come running for dinner, then something might be wrong.

And when you find the one who is skipping dinner, nested in your bed, and you turn on the lights to see if she's okay and your first thought when you see her drooping eye lid and excessive drool, is Oh My God, she's had a stroke, and your next thought is her non-drooping eye is jacked up and you start to make emergency calls to the vet because with animals, you just don't know.

Did she eat something toxic? Is this the aftermath of a seizure? It really looks like a stroke. What do you do for a dog who has had a stroke?

All those thoughts, and of course the worst ones (what if the vet says there is no hope) ran through my head as my husband and I bundled our almost six year old Beagle into the car, leaving our two kids at home with the other two dogs. Everyone was worried, except Emma, who was just in terrible pain.

Our vet checked us out and sent us on to an emergency care office because we needed to get some tests run ASAP to rule out things like toxins, strokes, and seizures. My husband kept saying she was going to be okay, and I said if the vet tells us we have to put her down, we aren't doing it tonight.

We are two sides of the same coin, he chooses to be the sunnier side, and I naturally fall onto the gray sky side, but that's part of why we're still working after 20 years!

It was a stressful night, but when we got the good news that it's just an eye condition that can even affect people, we were so relieved. Not that it's "just" an eye condition. It is a terribly painful thing where Emma's pupils have shrunk down to pinpoints and don't react to light and she was virtually unable to see. We got home at 11pm, with two kinds of eye drops and a bottle full of doggy pain meds.

No medical marijuana, and my husband did ask.

I haven't gone home at lunch on a work day in quite a while, but I am this week. Just to make sure Emma is okay, and to give her some eye drops. She's on the fence about whether seeing me is a good thing. On one hand, good because she gets her lunch at lunch time, on the other hand, bad because she hates, hates, hates her eye drops.

Stressful, worrisome, and I still wouldn't trade my dogs for anything.

Terrorized In My Own Home

I am being terrorized by a crane fly. For reals, yo.

I was sitting here minding my own business when I felt some tickling on my neck and chest. I thought to myself, self, don't freak out. It's just wisps of your long hair wisping around in the breeze.

So I brushed at it, and realized instantly my hair does not have a solid body and legs and wings. I batted it away in the time honored tradition of crazy slapping hands and panicked body contortions, to discover as it bopped away it was a Crane Fly.

Imagine screams here.

In my rush to get it off me, I knocked one of those legs off and it was stuck on my shirt. Imagine more screams now.

I sat here with my heart pounding, feeling like I've been contaminated when I heard it buzzing around on the table. Literally on the freaking table.

The only things close to me to use to kill it were my book, my daughters wallet, the phone and my coffee cup. I didn't want to have bug guts on any of that, so I didn't kill it.

But that means it's loose somewhere. Flopping around, at least one leg lost, and I feel that where it had touched my bare skin is on fire. Like it's got an infectious disease that it has passed on to me.

Or it could be from the insane amount of scratching I just did.

I'm Dog Crazy But Not Selfish

On Sunday, after church, my son announced that he needed to go to a book store to find a birthday present for a friend. He came home, researched on the computer and knew what book he wanted. We drove 20 minutes to the mall, only to discover that I was right about it having a book store, but wrong about which book store it was.

And it did not have the book he wanted.

That did not stop us from looking all around, up and down, over and under the store. We love books and could have spent tons of money, but all of us were being responsible. So we left empty handed and went across the street to the used book store.

And the first book I saw, I wanted. I tried to put it down, but I couldn't. It was the perfect book for me and I wanted it very much. But I wasn't there to buy books, or if I was I should be buying a book for Father's Day.

Ah-ha! I could give this book to my hubby for Father's Day. I know he'll like it as much as me......but I couldn't do it. It would be like Homer giving Marge a bowling ball with the name 'Homer' engraved on it....we'd all know the book was really mine. That's a terrible kind of gift to give!

Instead, I hugged it close to my heart and bought it with a grin. I wasn't sure what price it was, but after a brief flip through of the pages, I knew I'd buy it even it it was $50. Luckily I didn't have to face that decision! It was $7.50 and I gladly paid it.

Literally a picture of book of A Thousand Dogs. I love it. It is mine.

And the real reason I couldn't give it to my husband for Father's Day is not that it is a book perfect for me. It is that I could not wait until Father's Day, until after the giftee had looked through it, to read it. I came home and sat down on the couch with my book of dogs and I enjoyed the heck out of it!

To finish the story, my son found the books he was looking for. It was a happy day for all!