Adding 4 legs to the house

Our lives are about to change again.

Puppy day is fast approaching. Friday we will welcome a 7 week old black lab into our home and begin both the bonding and training process with our new mudpuppy.

It comes with much excitement and much skepticism or fear.

We haven't ever done the puppy stage before with a dog. Sure there are millions that do it every year, but how are we going to manage with working full time etc…

Exciting though that we get to be the pup's new family. The 2 legged litter mates if you want to call it that.

The little guy sort of picked us. We had our eye on about 3 or 4 in the litter that would fit our needs and wants in a hunting dog/companion.

He picked us though. He was in the group of 3 or 4 but he stood out as being the one that hung around us the most, came up to us right away and kept coming back for more.

He snuck into our hearts in a few short visits. Chasing away some of the darkness left by our former mudpuppy's demise.

Almost 6 months later losing her still hurts. 

I had a big talk last night with Miss K. She knows that she is gone, that she is living with God, but doesn't understand why she just can't come home for a little bit.

She wants to give her more kisses and hugs she said. Bless her heart she just wants to see the dog she loved one more time

Miss K is excited about the new puppy. She loves going to see all of them and is almost counting the days until he comes home.

She asked last night why when our Mudpuppy died that she couldn't come back to us. She understood that she went to heaven and was living with God, but wanted desperately to just hug her once more because she missed her a lot.

How do you tell a three year old that its just the way it is, when something dies, it doesn't come back, when all you want to do is the same as her?

Just one more hug, one more sloppy kiss to the face would somehow make it better.

Reality is tough, especially when you're three. It brought tears to my eyes to see Miss K give a big kiss to the picture of her and our mudpuppy. She was pretty sure that our mudpuppy felt them all the way at God's house.

I guess we don't see how much she is hurting. How much she really does miss having the dog around.

I know we'll never have the same experience we did with our first girl, but there's hope this new little guy will put a smile on all our faces and realize new hopes and dreams with his presence.

All I know is it will be an adventure like none before it…

Til next time when I talk of puppy dog tales...

Sometimes life has other plans for you

I like to plan. I like to have some forethought and organization in my life. A little structure and routine to make the days go smoother. I like to be on time, I like to have a plan on what needs to be done in a day.

I'm not so rigid as to know that there are always hiccups and room for variance to the planning. I like to be pretty go with the flow if I can, but there is structure in this flow and that suits me well. It suits our family well actually.

But sometimes life has other plans. Sometimes it throws a couple curveballs and then another high and inside just to keep you on your toes.

That's what happened last week.

As mentioned in my previous post Big C hadn't been feeling all that good lately and that his grandfather had died.

He was going to drive 10+ hours on the weekend to his grandfathers funeral and then leave immediately after it was done so he could be back for a work conference in a nearby big city. Which meant we wouldn't see him for nearly 5 days again.

But you do what you gotta do right?

Except that was all to change.

Last Wednesday evening I asked Big C what was wrong. He told me he wasn't feeling good again. And in the next breath he said he was actually going to go to a doctor and get it checked out, so I knew it was not good. He is the typical man, you have to be on your death bed before you will go and seek help. (though I'm not much different)

He suffered in agony with severe stomach pain most of Wednesday night and had the chills/fever thing going on too.

I was due in for a treatment at the hospital that Thursday morning and Big C said he was coming into the city too and would hit the walk in clinic. That way once he was done there, he could do some Christmas shopping and then meet me for lunch if I got done early enough. Cool, I had the whole day off, he had a day off for bereavement leave, we'd do some power shopping and have a lunch date all at the same time.

But that all changed about 9:30 am. I was reading the paper waiting for my "drugs" to be mixed up when I get a tap on the shoulder.

It was Big C. He'd tracked me down at the hospital. He was not looking good. Pale and ghostly would describe it best. He's darker complexioned having some native blood in his veins and he did not look good. The walk in clinic told him to go to the Emergency dept. of the hospital. It could be any number of things but possibly his appendix.

Wow. OK. I will try to find you when I get out of my treatment.

So after a series of gory details I won't get into. I spent the afternoon I had off with my husband, but it was not for a date. Nope, waiting in the ER for the results of the CT scan they had taken.

Awesome. I held out as long as I could but I had to go to pick up Miss K and explain to her why dad wasn't coming home. Then it was the flurry of phone calls to let those know who needed to, and roll with the new life plan that was thrown at us.

In reality it was pretty good. He waited almost 36 hours before they did the surgery on him. He was hungry and thirsty, but not really in any danger of the appendix bursting.

They had to cut him open, no little laproscopic holes for him as there was some sort of mass around the appendix they didn't like the looks of. 

Lots of sleepless nights on my part from shear adrenalin/worry and his part due to a noisy roommate. 

They sprung him loose a mere 12 hours after coming out of recovery. He was a hurting unit for sure, but happy to be home. Miss K was too, she misses her dad when he's away for work, but the hospital kinda kicked it up a notch.

So now, 4 weeks of no lifting, no twisting, no work of any kind for the big guy. 4 weeks of no waterfowl hunting which we're getting into prime season for. No driving for the week while he's on any sort of pain meeds. 

There was no attending his grandfather's funeral, no Christmas parades on the weekend for any of us.

He's getting better, he can put on his own pants and underwear as of today. But still needs help with shoes and socks. He can't reach anything in the bottom of the fridge, or lift anything out of the oven so he's not much of a house husband right now.

Yup, I know, first world problems. But our own problems, everything is relative and we all deal with pain, change and life's challenges in our own way.

I'm just glad it was not something more serious. I'm glad he is home. I'm glad that he is not sick any more. I'm glad he can do some gift wrapping when the time is right.

I'm glad that when our new mudpuppy comes home he's going to be able to hang out with Big C for the first week or two.

Life gets flipped upside down every now and again. It helps us take stock of what is really important.

It helped me realize that I am doing enough. That I can keep it together and be there when I'm needed most. I can do it. I maybe can't do it all, but I can do what I need to get by, even when life throws you a wild pitch

Til next time, give those loved ones in the hospital an extra hug for me and if life throws you a curveball, try to hit it out of the park

Is it good enough?

I'm feeling  a little helpless these days. Like I'm falling short of some invisible goal. I'm not really attempting anything major, I just think I'm not doing enough.

And its mostly in regards to Big C, like somehow I'm failing him in the support department.

He's been having some physical troubles lately. First it was the pulled tendon in his back that left him close to immobile for almost a week. Minor on an overall scale but he was a pretty big hurting unit for a while.

I've been there, everything else starts hurting when your back does. It's not fun to say the least. And nothing but professional chiropractic help could make him feel better. 

Poor Miss K, she wanted so badly to help too…she'd rub his back the way only a 3 year old can and ask in a chipper voice if that helped or not. Big C would kind of grimace and grin all at the same time and say that he felt better, at least a little bit.

Then he was away all last week for work, more single parenting land for me, but he had a flu bug or something all week and could barely eat anything. If he did eat something it went through him faster than shit through the proverbial goose.

Poor guy, it maybe was the best that he was away and I'm no nursemaid by any stretch of the imagination but you still want to help. But he was in a lonely hotel room and I couldn't even give him a proper hug.

I'm not really the caring doting sort let that be clear. No one is ever going to recommend I sit bedside and take care of someone who is ailing. My prevailing train of thought usually is…suck it up buttercup and get on with it.

But I still like to help if I can and when you're powerless to affect any sort of change or make a dent in the suffering I don't do so well.

Big C's grandfather passed away yesterday. He was 94, had lived at home up until the last 2 years and died on one of his favourite days of the year, Remembrance Day. An interesting gentleman and I'm sure he touched the lives of many.

To a certain extent Big C had already done part of the mourning process, some family issues had pushed him a bit further away from his grandfather than he would have liked, and I think he'd said a sort of good bye in his own mind already.

But, there were a lot of memories and times he shared with his grandfather and he's got a load of hurt still weighing on his mind. A lot of why's and what if's and should I have's I know are going through his mind and making him sad.

It's hard, I just want to be there and make it better, but I know I can't, at least not now.

I feel bad because in all likelihood Miss K and I are not going to be going with Big C to the funeral. Miss K does not know Big C's grandfather, having only met him a couple of times when she was just a baby and I've got a treatment coming up this week that it would be best i not miss. Not to mention about 22 hours in a vehicle round trip that would make for a long couple of days.

It sucks. I feel like I'm not there for him enough, like I'm letting him down in some small way. I don't know how to do more than I am though, it just doesn't seem like its enough.

I guess that's it though, you have to be who you are, do what you can and hope that everything works out. Hope that you can keep forging ahead and better times will come your way.

On a positive note, we saw our future pup in person or "in puppy" on the weekend. They are a month old now and little balls of cuteness. One of them is our new Mudpuppy, and that is exciting and scary too…

Hoping that positivity is the main course of the days to come, its good to look on the bright side, just some days are harder than others…

WTF happened yesterday??

OK, yesterday was Halloween, not normally my favourite event of the year, but after yesterday I pretty much was left with the WTF happened Impression on the day.

It started off with Big C shaving off his moustache. Yes, completely and totally off. Bare lip blowing in the breeze off. Holy crap does he look different, not bad different, just really, really, weird.

Let us understand the moustache has been part of his face since puberty. Yup, that sucker has been on his face since he could grow one. As salt is to pepper and chips are to dip, Big C has always had a stache. Always. 

But not yesterday, his work mates convinced him to shave it off for charity. Around here November is a big month for moustaches. Men grow them in support of awareness for men's health and prostate cancer. A good cause for sure.

It took them 5 years to wear him down and get him to agree to the shave off. There were 5 other candidates in the running and the competition was on to raise the most money. 

Big C came in second with an impressive 395 bucks raised in a little over a week. And he took it off at lunch yesterday, with me there to witness it in front of all his colleagues.

I'm still just staring at him, thinking he reminds me of someone, but I can't quite place who…he looks a lot like his dad, but that's not it…I don't know…its just really really freaky.

So that was freaky thing number one.

Then there was Miss K's peculiar behaviour last night. I went to pick her up, she'd had a great day at the sitter's. Was feeling much better after being hit with a cough/cold combo the past few days and was cheery about Halloween. 

Until we got in the car to go home. Then it all went to shit. She didn't want her ghost picture, she didn't want supper, then she did. Her tummy hurt, her finger hurt, her head hurt. She wanted pizza for supper, she wanted tortellini for supper. She didn't want supper again.

Then we got home and it was one dramatic episode after another. It took forever before she even realized that Big C had shaved off the facial hair she'd known since birth.

She spent a lot of time in her room before we went trick or treating. She wasn't bad, she just could not stop crying. And crying and crying. I know she's 3 and a girl, but this was over the top even for her.

It finally passed and she was able to put on her smiling face she said. Albeit without much candy as she'd been told there'd be no treats if she didn't eat supper, which she didn't.

But that was nothing compared to the final WTF event of the evening. We'd turned off the lights about 7:45. We could see no more kids on the street, it was a miserable windy rainy night, and it was time for Miss K to go to bed.

So, I must clarify before I continue the story. The porch and outside lights were off, the pumpkin was out, all the downstairs lights where our front door is were off. Dark save for a small string of pumpkin/ghost lights in our front garden.

Miss K was in bed sound asleep, I'd folded laundry and was just getting my lunch ready for the next day when I see Big C head back downstairs. I'm figuring he's now going to clear up the candy etc… that we'd left by the door when we'd gone to take Miss K to bed. 

He was actually going to look our the front door for some kids he'd seen running down the street and was checking to make sure there was no vandalism going on. We've had some recent teenagers who think its wise to graffiti peoples cars and houses because they're being told not to cut thru people's property on their way to and from school. I will get to the lazy ass attitude of some children another time.

So he's gone downstairs, I'm on the phone with a family friend and I hear the door bell go, thinking it might be a neighbour I don't think too much of it until I hear trick or treat being said.

WTF? Why are you still out? It's a miserable night, it's 8:40, you have school tomorrow, the lights are off. Why are you at my house?

I'm sure Big C was expecting a group of 16 year old kids being idiots, so I'm sure he was more gruff than he needed to be. 

But he said, the lights are off, my 3 year old is upstairs in bed sound asleep, why are you ringing the doorbell at this time of night. Go home. It's over, get out of here.

And that is when the real fun started. The dad of the 8 year old girl, yes I said 8 year old was still out at 8:45 at night, took exception to how Big C was talking to his kid.

He went into how he should be apologizing to her and she's just out trick or treating and you've hurt her feelings. Your lights were on (the string of lights in the garden). And so on and so on.

Big C, stated again the house is dark, its late, my kid is asleep, why are you ringing the doorbell at this time of night, get out of here. I'm not apologizing to your kid, who by this time is bawling.

Then the voices get louder still, and another guy who is with them comes up our sidewalk grabs Big C, rips his shirt and proceeds to  hurl any sort of obscenity he can at him.

At this stage I'm cutting off my phone conversation and heading downstairs to see what the hell is going on. 

Attacker guy has buggered off, hiding his face and hoping we can't see him. Dad of 8 year old is still on the porch. I'm telling him to cool it and just go home.

He's saying his kid is crying, her feelings are hurt blah, blah, blah. My comment was should she not be in bed? Big C's was, what about my shirt? Ripped, stretched out etc…

Dad of kid walks away, says you're marked buddy, I know where you live. You're marked.

I'm assuming its the mom of the kid is on the front lawn, saying fuck you, this is bullshit, I'm putting this in the paper. You guys are assholes etc…

WTF? What is going on here? Dad comes back, Big C says he's calling the cops, charges of assault, uttering threats. I show buddy that I've put 911 into the phone I still have in my hand.

He walks away again all the while saying he's coming back, you better watch it, you're marked. The mom is still yelling obscenities at us while walking across our neighbours yard.

I say again WTF? Now my husband is on the front porch talking to the 911 dispatcher. While I'm watching where these doofuses are headed. 

Later while Big C is giving his statement to the police officer I'm upstairs thinking to myself & still a bit shaken.

WTF? Where did this bit of violence come from? Why are you being such an idiot in front of your kid? Why are you sending them to a dark house to ring the bell? You obviously care enough to go out trick or treating with them, but what are you still doing out on a rainy night at 8:45 with an 8 year old?

We are not ever going to win parent of the year, ever. But we try. We try to keep our kid safe, develop a good routine, be responsible for our actions and hers, allow just enough freedom, but keep watch just the same.

I'm just dumbfounded by this. Absolutely dumbstruck. 

Encouraging your 8 year old to keep trick or treating when there hasn't been a kid on the street in half an hour. Its cold, wet, and windy and you're out getting every last scrap of candy you can?

Why? Why are you so belligerent when someone calls you on it and says that you shouldn't be sending your kid to darkened doors at that time of night. Sorry buddy, no candy here, try the next house if you want, we're done. Why physical violence when somebody just told you to go home and leave the area?

WTF? What impression are you giving your kid? That all these behaviours are acceptable? That name calling and threats are the way to go? 

We didn't hurt your kid, yup maybe she was upset, maybe she did cry and you know what for that I'm sorry. But life is hard there cupcake and I know at 8 you are not responsible for this sort of stuff. I know you probably had no idea what time it was, or that a darkened house was not a good place to come looking for treats.

I know all of those things kid, and I wish you all the best because if this is the guidance that you've got in your life, your gonna need all the help you can get.

I hope they're smart enough to realize their stupidity. I get it to a certain extent, they're protecting their kid, they want to make her safe and happy too, I know we'd do the same.

But I can't say "if we were in the same situation", because we never would be. Ever. And if I was, please someone just shoot me, because I've obviously lost half my marbles.

One poor judgement led to another and another and another. Poor kid. I know you're loved, but I hope you develop more common sense than the adults in your life.

I hope the adults don't follow through on their promise that they'll come back and we're "marked" and all the other threats because I'm just letting you know kid that your mom and dad may not be around for a while because your parents are not endangering my kid with their stupidity

People surprise me everyday, more often in a good way, but this time in the WTF were they thinking way

Til next time…lock your doors, you never know what might come to the front door