The End of an Era is Coming

It has been over a year since Loki went to doggie heaven. When it finally happened, Maggie immediately aged 10 years. I guess because Loki looked so old and frail, we never noticed how she was getting old, too. She was always secondary to him for me, just because Loki really was my "baby"--although I spoiled her rotten and treated her like a human, too. Now that he is gone, I have latched onto her--loving on her every chance I get and spoiling her absolutely rotten as much as I can. Because when she goes, it will be the end of an era for me. I am not ready for it.

We have watched her over the last year start to struggle in her hind legs, but she has never whined about it. Her eyesight isn't what it used to be, and today her left eye muscle went out of whack--her eye is now half-rolled back. The end of her time is getting much closer, and I'm having a hard time with it--especially today.

The picture above was taken almost 9 years ago--she is now 13 years old. The same age as Loki when he passed on last year.

Memories and Regrets

Several weeks ago, I received a call from my Mom that my grandmother "Dorsey" wasn't doing good and probably wasn't going to make it through the rest of the week. Her health had been declining for the past 5 years, and she felt it was time to return home to God.

At that time, Bryan urged me to write her a letter with my fond memories of times together growing up. I put it off, and Dorsey miraculously bounced back and was doing absolutely great--back to her witty, feisty old self. Then I got another phone call a few weeks ago saying she had up and passed on. She never received that letter from me.

I never let her know about my fondest memories together. About how I dare not go through New Year's Day without eating black-eyed peas for good luck, lest she scold me. The fun times on the little go-kart at her house in Wildorado, and the time she took a corner too fast and dumped me out on the road. How she taught me to play Solitaire while watching The Price is Right, and the times my sister & I would fall asleep at her house waiting for Mom & Dad to come pick us up late at night to take us home.


We would have the most wonderful conversations--she had so many fun facts to share, and she knew the history of our family--I wish I had documented our family tree while she was still here with us. I wish I had called her more often just to talk. I wish I had taken the time to write and send that letter...


I know she is at peace now, but I miss her anyway.

Crossroads

Time for a hormonal rant and some wallowing in my own sorrows.

I have been stuck at a crossroads ever since I earned my master's degree last May. I am torn between work and family life. I used to be career-driven--I loved my job and loved my company. I got thrills and pleasure from the challenges of work. Now work is not fun anymore--I find myself longing to be home doing projects with the kids. I don't feel that I am contributing to anything at work--and that is not a fulfilling feeling at all. My kids are growing up so fast--life is passing me by. I want to stop and smell the flowers. Go out and make memories with my husband & kids. Stop bringing home my computer to suck the life from me at night.

This transition over the past year has been hard. I went from flying high at a job I loved, to tumble down into being just another worker-bee in the crowd. Bryan says I was spoiled--I refuse to believe that there aren't a lot of jobs out there that are fulfilling. I am just not focused on that part of my life anymore. I want to focus on our kids, and make a life for them that they can fondly remember when they get older. I want to take them on weekend trips to see the wonders of the east coast...and beyond. Camping. Snow skiing. Body surfing.

I feel like I'll be disappointing my mentors at work, my husband, and my family if I don't continue to fight my way up the food chain. I need to do what makes me happy or I'll be miserable and bring everyone around me down with me. I just don't see a clear path to choose right now...and I'm getting impatient.

Loki is Home

We brought Loki home today. Actually, Bryan went and picked him up first thing this morning without me--I was at work. We got the call from the vet last night that he was ready, and I didn't want him staying in a strange place any longer than he had to. And when I got home from work today, he was on the nightstand on my side of the bed. He always slept on my side of the bed.

We haven't bought a real urn for him yet. He is in a plain, white, tall rectangular box right now. On the back is a poem that brings tears to my eyes. The Rainbow Bridge.

Just this side of heaven is a place called Rainbow Bridge.

When an animal dies that has been especially close to someone here, that pet goes to Rainbow Bridge. There are meadows and hills for all of our special friends so they can run and play together. There is plenty of food, water and sunshine, and our friends are warm and comfortable.

All the animals who had been ill and old are restored to health and vigor. Those who were hurt or maimed are made whole and strong again, just as we remember them in our dreams of days and times gone by. The animals are happy and content, except for one small thing; they each miss someone very special to them, who had to be left behind.
They all run and play together, but the day comes when one suddenly stops and looks into the distance. His bright eyes are intent. His eager body quivers. Suddenly he begins to run from the group, flying over the green grass, his legs carrying him faster and faster.

You have been spotted, and when you and your special friend finally meet, you cling together in joyous reunion, never to be parted again. The happy kisses rain upon your face; your hands again caress the beloved head, and you look once more into the trusting eyes of your pet, so long gone from your life but never absent from your heart.

Then you cross Rainbow Bridge together....

--Author unknown

Months ago I thought we would spread his ashes on one of his favorite beaches. I am not ready. I can't let go.

Crappy End to a Shitty Week

We are still emotional about losing Loki, and I know there are people out there who don't understand or are incapable of feeling this kind of pain for an animal. And yes, we know there are bigger and worse things that bring more pain to families than this. My high school friend, Allison from Slice of Heaven, is going through one of those terrible moments right now--news that no one wants to hear--bringing a crappy end to a shitty week. Allison, my heart goes out to you and your family.

Another crappy thing that happened this week is that Jaci from Ravings of a Mad Housewife decided to kill Blog Fart Friday. She has good reason behind it, but those of us who don't have the time or creativity to write regular blog posts will miss throwing these things together and laughing at each other's blog farts. I know, I could go on and do it without linking up with her--but it's not the same.

We also found out that our daycare will be using their van to take our kids to school this year instead of using the school bus stop. Not so much of a big deal except that Tyler was really looking forward to riding the bus to kindergarten like all the other big kids. We haven't broke the news to him yet--we just might make the daycare tell him (hey--it's their idea.) On the upside, Brandon won't have the opportunity to get in trouble on the bus this year.

And to top it off, I had to take Tyler to the urgent care clinic late last night (after Bryan & I had been drinking at the bar--NO I didn't drive drunk.) He had a fever and complained that his chest hurt--with his chest, we didn't want to wait until Monday to see his pediatrician in case it was bronchitis or pneumonia. Of course, when we get to the clinic, I find out that his chest doesn't really hurt that bad. But the fever was real and it turns out he had the beninnings of an ear infection--so it wasn't for nothing. I'm just friggin' tired of having sick kids every Friday...it's been almost every Friday for the last 3 weeks!

UGH!

R.I.P. Loki 1996 - 2009

I started constructing this post a few months ago when I realized this moment was imminent and approaching faster that we wanted it to. I finished the final draft a few weeks ago, and now that the time has finally come, the words I wrote don't even scratch the surface of how we really feel. Our eyes are red, puffy and burning from crying and I don't even feel like writing or interacting with anyone at all. This is one of the most traumatic things Bryan and I have ever been through, and we have no desire to go through it again. So I'll write more later about the raw emotions we're going through. For now, the old draft will have to do...

We finally had to euthanize our beloved Rottweiler, who has been on his last legs for about 5 years. He's had a hard time with arthritis, which he was on medication for, and just couldn't hardly stand up on his own anymore. This dog truly has been a part of the family and has been at my side for 13 wonderful years. A close friend gave him to me at 8 weeks old when I was a sophomore in college.

He loved playing in the ocean and digging in the sand:

He has traveled with us through 14 states and moved end-to-end across the United States twice.
He watched TV and took naps with us:

He liked to carry his favorite rocks with him to play fetch in the San Diego desert bush:

He has welcomed all three of our babies home:

He was a beautiful dog and we will miss him very, very much. We hope to spread his ashes on Galveston's West Beach where he first found his love of frolicking in the waves and chasing seagulls.

Big Boy Beds

We thought it was about time to get Brandon a bigger bed when his feet started hanging off the edge of his racecar bed. Which was about a year ago. With Bryan's hectic work schedule and my grad degree workload, we never got around to getting that new bed. This entire time Brandon has stayed in that bed, with Tyler in his firetruck bed and Nick in the crib. Yes, Nick is just about 3-years old and is still in his crib. And we have enjoyed keeping the little monster in that cage, knowing that he will be free and loose to lurk around the house at night soon enough with his big-boy bed, when he should be asleep.

This is a somewhat sad time for us--we now have to get rid of the crib. The crib we bought in San Diego before Brandon was born.

All three of our boys came home from the hospital to this crib. While we are very happy to be moving on with our growing boys--it is very hard to let go of the memories associated with it.

Brandon & Tyler will switch out of the beds they've had for the last 3 years--the racecar bed and firetruck bed we bought to haul to San Diego for my temporary work assignment when I was pregnant with Nick.



Nick is very excited to be taking ownership of that firetruck bed, and Brandon is very happy to get a loft bed. He's not quite as happy about having a room to himself (he's going through the scared-of-the-dark phase.) Here was Nick's bedroom yesterday before Brandon's new bed arrived (ignore the mess):


Here they are now:

Not-So-Happy 4th of July

I could tell you that we had a great holiday weekend, despite Bryan having to work the evening shift the entire time. I could tell you that the kids had a blast playing with sparklers, watching fireworks and even seeing the county fireworks display from our front yard. And that Bryan was even able to see the city fireworks show at work from the top of his ship. That is what I planned to talk about.

But our feel-good holiday spirit was crushed this morning with the sombering news that a 3-year old little boy drowned yesterday morning in the river. I found out from my Starbucks barista, who said a prayer for my family knowing that we frequented that area with our kids. She was relieved to see me this morning (meaning it wasn't our kid) and told me what she knew--and as a parent, as a mother, I was devastated to hear that a family was having to feel the horror and terrible pain of losing a young child. And that is all I can think about right now. We don't know the family--they are not local, but the terrible news still strikes home and my heart goes out to them.

Bryan and I repeatedly talk to our kids about water and pool safety. We have several neighbors with pools, which we frequent, and we routinely take the kids to the beach. I like to think that something like this would never happen to us because we watch our kids and are rarely out of arm's reach in the water. Still, the what-if's are now playing in my mind. For all of you with kids, whether they know how to swim or not, whether you have nearby pools, ponds, lakes, beaches or not, please please teach your kids water safety and don't ever let your guard down when they are playing in or near water. I know Bryan & I would never fogive ourselves if something like this happened to any of our kids.

Starbucks

I am a Starbucks junkie. Yes, I know it's an expensive habit--especially since I drink the ritzy $4 espresso drinks, but I am addicted and there's not a darn thing anyone can do about it. Friends, family and co-workers have all expressed their concerns, but they have given up on me--they even encourage my addiction by giving me gift cards, knowing what I'm like without my daily fill of Starbucks caffeine.

And that brings me to what happened this morning at my beloved Starbucks. Bryan and I had just dropped the kids off at daycare to enjoy our last day off from work for the holidays, and we headed to the nearest Starbucks for morning coffee. Knowing I had recently received gift cards for Christmas, Bryan asked if I was buying. Which I promptly said NO--I closely guard my free Starbucks money because I get flak for spending so much there. Now, looking back I can see why his feelings were hurt that I couldn't offer $2 of my money to pay for his drip coffee. What you don't know is the rounds and rounds of talks and arguments we've had in the past over my Starbucks spending habits. As far as I'm concerned, my coffee gift cards are my sole property for spending on myself and no one else, especially on someone who gives me such a hard time with every penny I spend there. To make the story short, I paid for his coffee and now I'm hearing for the rest of the day how petty and selfish I am for not wanting to buy $2 coffee for my husband. Again, Starbucks is my cocaine and I guard it with my life--all the way down to $2. And I'm sure by the end of the day we will be laughing about this and making fun of the situation.