It's all good...

Be careful what you wish for

We have a dog.   I gave up on the rescue organization and ended up at the local shelter.   They had a dog there who was perfect - calm, smart, sweet, had lived with cats and kids.   Perfect.   We bought a crate and a gate and food and a leash and collar and treats and toys.     He came to live with us and he's wonderful.   He has not barked since he came home.  He is totally housetrained - he's almost 3 years old so he's not a hyper puppy.   He hasn't put anything but food in his mouth - no chewing on the kids stuffed animals or going after the Lego.    He went to sleep on a cushion on the floor the first night and didn't make a peep all night.    The kids are totally in love with him and even the Dude thinks he's awesome.    The cat is not impressed but is coming around.

So what's the problem?  I seem to be allergic to him.   My eyes are so itchy I want to pluck them out of my head and dunk them in cold water.    I've had a wicked headache since he moved in.   WTF?    I ended up taking a Claritin the first night but I want to see if I can adjust to him and I don't want to have to take meds long term.    If it doesn't get better though, he'll have to go back.   

It sucks.   This is the perfect dog.  This is one of those dogs who doesn't freak out when other dogs go by, who doesn't jump at the mailman or growl when he's eating - he's even the kind of dog who doesn't polish off the food like it's his last meal when you put it down for him.  You can put food out and he'll graze rather than stuffing himself so fast that he pukes.   This means that I can leave the cat food out too....he's that great.   And my body seems to be rejecting him.  

So this post isn't humourous or fun or anything but after all of my squawking about getting a dog I needed to share that we did get one and it may or may not work out.   If I can't get over this itchy eyeball thing and he has to go back I will be in so much trouble.    Let's all hope I can get used to him.  Ugh.   The kids may never speak to me again.    Hang on....that might not be so bad...

An Open Letter to my Daughter

(Since the whole world seems to be writing open letters to Malia and Sasha Obama on their big move to the White House I thought I would take the opportunity to mark this moment in time for my own beautiful daughter)

Dear #1,

    Sweetheart, you are beautiful and kind and smart and the world is your oyster.   Also, I don't care if everyone else in your school has gone to see the stupid teen vampire movie.   I don't care what Sophie is allowed to see.  You won't be seeing it.   I know this is hard.   You also won't be wearing skirts that show your bum, boots that cost more than a car payment or message T's with sexual innuendos.    You're not getting a cell phone for a very long time.   Most likely after you get a job and can pay for it yourself.   I know everyone else has one which is great because if you need to make a call you can borrow one.

 I know you didn't ask to be born and you should know that if you yell that at me in a fit of frustrated anger I will laugh.   

  I will support you in what you choose to do.   Unless it's too expensive, time consuming or there's something good on the teevee.   (I can't believe they sent home Radhika over Carla...I mean, I like Carla and I think she's a hoot and she makes for great tv, but she's consistently in the bottom 3).   

   I'm sorry that your grandparents live in northern Ontario and not Florida like  Laura's grandparents.    Florida isn't that great.  Seriously.  You lived in Texas for 7 years - you've been to the ocean.   Okay so there wasn't a giant mouse asking you to empty your bank account but it was still nice.    

    Be nice to your brothers.   Some day you will need to move and they'll be there to help lift your couch.  

As you move on to middle school, remember it's not going to matter in 15 or 20 years.   That the kids who are on top now will probably fall apart and the kids who are close to invisible will most likely rule the world.    Life's funny like that.  

Remember to sing and dance and respect yourself.   And if you have chocolate then you should share it with your mother.  

Hugs and Keeeeses,

Mom

      

Stuff

1. It's next to impossible to tell people who are over sensitive that they are over sensitive because they're over sensitive.  

2.  The head of the PTA just happily announced to me that she's going into real estate - she loved my launch letter so much that she's decided to give it a shot too!   Isn't that WONDERFUL!   

3. On my own again this week.   Kraft Dinner and pancakes!  Woot!

4. Still no word on the dog.   I sent another email.   I don't have a phone number on these people but that's probably best since there's no delete function for the stuff that I say.  

5. Yes, it was cold last week.  Not as cold as when I was a kid though....and we never stayed inside for recess...well, we tried but Madame Power always found us all hiding in the girls' washroom.  

About a dog

Last summer we entertained the idea of getting a dog.   The kids are big enough to help out with a dog - most likely just the throwing of the ball...I'm not too hopeful that they'd scoop poop or anything.     They're big enough to understand not to pull tails or take food from a dog's mouth or lick a dog.   #1 said she'd take the dog for walks.   It seemed like a good idea at the time. 

So we found a rescue organization and met some dogs and then Shadow found out about it so we let it go at that.    Once Shadow the Wonder Cat had healed up we contacted the organization again and asked to have the home visit and get approved to adopt a dog.    In the meantime we kept looking at their website and seeing the new dogs and trying to pick the one that would be the right fit for our family.    After the home visit we listed the dogs we thought we'd like to meet and asked about them. This one was already adopted, that one had food guarding issues so they wouldn't let it go with a family with kids, the other one just had knee surgery and they wanted her to go to a quiet home... 

Okay.  We went to the "Meet and Greet" which is this organization's Saturday doggie playgroup where all the available dogs are allowed to play together and you can see meet them and see which dog would be the right fit.   We met The Dog.    Now, this dog didn't fit any of our categories.  We thought we wanted a dog who was a little older and more settled than a puppy - The Dog is just about 6 months old.   We thought we wanted a dog who was on the medium side - The Dog is a collie/shepherd and so will probably end up being a big dog.   The Dog was cool though.   She wasn't aggressive to the other dogs but she wasn't giving up the toy she had first even when one of the other bigger dogs tried to take it from her - I liked that.   

Since it was December and we were looking at traveling over the Christmas holidays I said that we'd be happy to have her come live with us in January.   I was told that they didn't like having to hold a dog like that.    Well, I said it doesn't seem fair to the dog to take her out of her foster care situation to come live with us and then have her travel all over Ontario (it's bad enough for us...) and wouldn't it be better if she just came to live with us after the holidays?   They agreed that it would be better to wait but didn't actually say we could have her.   I emailed the head lady and said that we'd start paying for her food and upkeep until then.... No answer.  

Over Christmas we told everyone that we were looking at getting this dog and wouldn't that be fun.   Everyone except my mother thought that it would indeed be fun.    

It's now the middle of January and we do not have The Dog.   I've emailed the lady in charge, the kids and I went to another meet and greet where The Dog was supposed to be (she wasn't).   I was told that the foster family's older dog is having surgery.     Not "You can have the dog and we'll set it up for after their older dog is better"  Just that their older dog is having surgery.  

I'm starting to think the whole "getting a dog" idea was stupid.  

When we adopted Shadow, the kids and I walked into the humane society, showed the guy my license and were told to go to the cat room and pick one.    Unfortunately they don't give dogs to people with children under 12 or I just might be tempted to go over there and whip out my license. 

I'm trying to be careful about this.   Having a nasty cat is one thing - having a nasty dog is completely another and I want to make sure we do this right.   We're welcoming someone into our home.  Someone who will change the dynamic around here.   It's not unlike having a 4th child.   I want to do it right.   It's bloody frustrating to be jumping through the dog adoption hoops as best I can without any kind of concrete answer about when/if we can have The Dog.  

It's gut wrenching.   I can't even imagine the stress and heartache that must go into waiting to adopt a child when I'm this strung out over a dog.  

 

  

Dear Guy in the Lexus

I know you ate too many shortbread cookies over the Christmas holidays and you're in a terrible rush to get into the YMCA and sweat them off just like the 8 million other people trying to get into the YMCA this afternoon.    I know that since it's January and you've all decided to join the Y and get fit (because it's going to happen this year and you really mean it this time so it's vitally important that you find that parking spot right now) you think it's okay to drive that fast in the parking lot while looking for that non-existant spot.    The parking lot is covered in icy mush.   It's crowded because you've all decided to join the YMCA  - the sighs from the staff tell me they've had enough of you January people and it's only the 7th.   Maybe I should skip doing the swim lessons for the boys this month.  

I understand the kind of stress you are under but unless you are on fire you have no reason to drive like that in the parking lot.   You had better thank your lucky stars that you didn't come any closer to my 5 year old this afternoon because there would be no place to hide your fat arse if you had hurt him.     Yes, when I stood in front of your car I wasn't playing around and I would have walked up the damned thing if you hadn't responded quickly to my glare of death.   

It's. a. parking. lot.     Slow. the. fuck. down. 

Hugs and Kisses,

lonestar canuck

ps. seriously. slowthefuckdown. 

January, Shmanuary

And now we find ourselves on the edge of another year.      My living room currently looks like a Samsonite* graveyard because we arrived home from a week away traveling throughout Ontario and unpacked the overpacked car into the overstuffed living room.    I think it might be easier to haul the washing machine and dryer up to the living room rather than hauling the suitcases downstairs.

As usual, we overdid it.    

I can't seem to figure out how to have a successful Christmas without going bananas.    This year we went to my parents' house for Christmas morning and that meant that I had to haul everything up, open it and then haul it back.   Well, haul it to my mother in law's and then haul it back.    Good times.  There's nothing that says Christmas like stuffing 5 people and 6 tonnes of stuff into a mini-suv and driving 800 miles.   

In other news, I'm embracing my "Fit by Forty" programme.   Tomorrow.   This includes giving up drinking.....alcohol.    I'll wait while that sinks in.   

The Dude has been told to try giving up alcohol in an attempt to regulate his cholesterol or some such thing.    I thought it was kind of weird since as far as drinking goes....to quote my mother "he's not even in the league"     However, since he's going on the wagon I thought I'd join him - because you know how wonderfully supportive he was while I was pregnant (3 times!)....heh.   No.  He didn't stop drinking because I couldn't.   He just enjoyed the freedom of never having to take a turn as the DD.   

(She told me to keep drinking...she said "are you nuts?!  You don't need to stop!" So I didn't. -- the Dude).   

 Apparently I can't leave this open and then go unload the dryer....or something.   He's right though.  I didn't ask him to stop drinking and that whole thing about trying to make him look bad by implying that he wouldn't stop drinking wasn't very nice.   I feel shame.   When I feel shame I eat.   This is not going to help the Fit by Forty programme at all.   

Good thing I already ate everything that was left in the stockings when I was putting away the Christmas stuff! 

*Samsonite?  Like I'd have Samsonite luggage - that stuff's expensive.  It's garbage bags and cracker boxes for us!  And we're happy that way.