Ah, broken hearts. They’re the stuff great songs are made of, am I right? And if you have one, they are like the longest, most painful night of your life.
Unless you’re like, 4 days old, you’ve had a broken heart. At least once! At this point in my life, I’ve had many-a broken heart. Like they say, time usually heals them but some take more time than others.
I don’t spend a lot of my time worrying about having my heart broken from things like a death in the family or a betrayal by someone dear to me. If you know me, you know I’m not really a “worrier”. I really do try to leave it all in God’s hands and be as content as I can be with His plan and His determined outcome.
However, in the past couple of years, I have just occasionally and quite randomly found myself mulling over how I would handle it if something tragic happened to one of my children.
I don’t know why, really. Well, yeah, I do. It’s the enemy trying to steal my joy and keep me from concentrating on God and what He wants me to do. Then there are the times I fret over the fact that it worries me being some sort of forewarning. I’m telling you, I can drive myself crazy with it if I don’t stop it quickly.
I have several dear friends who have lost their children from illness or accidents. Some of them just amaze me with how they have handled it. They have a peace and a joy that I can’t quite comprehend. Others of them tend to dwell and hold their sadness close, even after a decade or more.
I’m just not sure how I would do. I want to think I could allow God to take it and I could find peace again, but somehow I can never feel confident about that. It’s like I wonder how I’d do with a test such as that. Like Job losing ALL his children in one fell swoop on top of all his bodily torments and other losses. I just marvel at how amazingly God can sustain our frail human hearts.
So anyway, the reason I am pondering all this stuff is that I had a terrible heartbreak this weekend. We lost my sweet little puppy, Max. I am so heartbroken to lose him. Tommy came in Saturday with a look on his face that told me it couldn’t be good news.
He knelt down beside me and said, “Honey, Maxie’s been in an accident,” and that’s all it took. I said, “Is he gone?” and when Tommy confirmed, I just dissolved into tears. I’ve had pets all my life. Mostly dogs, but sometimes cats when I was little. We’ve lost countless dogs over the years to either accident or illness and I have always been upset, but never like this. Of course, growing up, we never had inside dogs and somehow, when they don’t live right “in amongst” you, you don’t get quite as close to them. We had an inside dog before Max, but he was never as attentive or as “stuck” to me as Max.
We got our sweet Max, a little “Malti-Tzu” (Maltese/Shih Tzu mix) when I was at one of the most dark, depressed states of my life. I needed him and he needed me. We got him from a lady who had taken him even though she knew pets weren’t allowed in her apartment. She kept him crated all day while she was at work, so over 8 hours. He was a mess, all long and matted. He was afraid of men because, as she told us, her boyfriend didn’t like Max and would yell at him (and who knows what else).
It took awhile, but soon he was not just my baby, but Tommy’s buddy as well. He loved people, most people, well…after he had barked at them a bit and decided they were okay. We have a few friends he never took to though and I’m pretty sure it was because they had sort-of loud or a different tone to their voices. Otherwise, though, he made friends pretty quickly. He was very protective of me which at first, I think was a behavior held over from the yelling boyfriend of his previous owner. The first couple of times Tommy moved to hug me, Max would leap between us and like I said, the first couple of times he made a faint growl at him, but soon as I assured Max that it was okay, he stopped making any aggressive sounds. Soon, it was done just because he was a nosy little stinker. He would wedge his way between us with this “Whatcha’ll doin’?” look on his face. He had a huge personality.
Max loved to play and was really a joy to watch. He would skip and run and sling his “baby” or ball around then run to catch it. He loved to drop his balls into containers then act like he was on Mission Impossible trying to get them back out. He’d drop them in Tommy’s boots, the laundry basket, my purse… you name it. It was such fun to watch him play.
Max also loved to cuddle and sleep. Bless his heart, when I had a bad day and could barely keep my head up, he was just as game to lay in bed all day with me as he was to be up following me all over the house. I think this is the main reason I’m so devastated over losing him. I’ve never had a dog that loved me so good. He just wanted to be with me, no matter what. He was entirely too cute for my own good.
Even though he wasn’t one of those “yappy” dogs that barked all the time, the house seems so quiet without him. I think it’s because the sound of him jumping off the couch or bed to run see who was outside or his little feet clippety-clipping behind him on the tile have become comforting sounds and I miss them terribly today.
Max had a huge sense of adventure and was, like I said, game for anything Tommy and I were up for. He loved to travel and was the best car-riding buddy ever. We took him with us along on more road trips than we can remember. He loved to ride and would get so excited about a car ride, but soon as we were on the interstate, he’d be out like a light. The interstate was like valium to him!
Max went camping with us, he’s gone to various cookouts, hikes and bon fires. Fishing at the pond was a favorite. He even went for a ride on the four-wheeler, but that wasn’t his favorite since we had to rig him a “seat” (aka: milk crate with harness) because he would NOT be still and let me hold him! He wanted to jump off and chase every critter we saw.
He even rode with Tommy on his bike once. I’m not sure he liked it a whole lot, but he liked being with us. He was better satisfied as long as he could see me riding behind, but if I got in front, he would have a fit to climb over Tommy’s shoulder. We wanted to try another camping trip like this with the bikes and try him in a basket, but we never got the chance. Max was willing to try just about anything we did as long as he could go with us.
Max was a peculiar little poot, too. He had this thing, maybe all little dogs are this way, but if any dogs were around who were bigger than him, he HAD to make it clear that HE was the boss. Our old chocolate lab, Samson, was a prime example and he probably
made Max worse because of his own super-gentle temperment. Sam was always the gentleman, to a fault! He was never the least bit aggressive unless you threatened his food. And sometimes, he’d even share that with Max. He never took the ball away from him, love his heart. He always let Max get the ball. Maybe that’s because Max would start growling and snarling like a rabid skunk if some one threatened whatever he considered his. And of course, ALL THINGS were his. Humans and toys alike. And if another big dog came around, even one of our boys’ dogs (Corey has an Austrailian Shepherd and Casey has a Golden Retriever) if any of the big dogs was aggressive with the other, he would be all over them as if to say, “HEY! Shut it down! I’M the only one who gets to do that!” It was really hilarious and I’d have to explain to other people that he wasn’t really being mean, it was just his way. Bahaha. Max definitely had a unique way of socializing. But he still had lots of buddies. Seriously, even the dogs couldn’t help but love him.
Max was the sweetest, craziest, noisiest little pup ever and I am really heartbroken right now. After crying my eyes out for almost two hours solid, I’ve collected myself and can ponder why. I don’t know why this had to happen at this point in time. I don’t want to dwell on how it happened
other than to say it was an accident and happened right in our driveway. Max was, as anyone who’s been here knows, a horrible one to run up to and around and under vehicles as they approached or left the house. We tried every way we knew to break him of it, but he would not be stopped. The only way was to forcibly hold him or just take him inside. It never failed that I would no sooner let him out in the yard to play than someone would pull into the driveway and I’d have to go out and try to catch Max or watch with my stomach clenched as the person tried to slowly bring the car or truck closer. Whether it was a delivery truck or someone who had been here a million times, he would go at it barking like mad and running as close to the tires as possible, so honestly, I wouldn’t blame the person responsible at all. This person has no clue that they even ran over Max. Another reason I don’t want to dwell on it is that I could end up getting mad or even more upset. I know this person was distracted with trying to hurry home even though they know how Max is and have had to deal with his antics a million other times. For whatever reason, God saw fit to let this happen and I am trying to cope.
Which brings me back to my first thoughts up there of fretting about how I’d deal with it if something awful happened to one of my boys. I am wondering if God isn’t letting me know that this is not the worst thing ever. He knows that I would have been in much worse shape if I was dealing with losing one of them. Why I need to realize that now is something I don’t want to ponder long. I think it’s become more of a thing with me ever since Corey moved to Ohio. I felt like I was literally losing him. I realize now that was silly since we actually talk to him and Melissa and even see them more often than we did when they lived a stone’s throw away! The moving and now this has all taught me never to take anything or any one for granted as I am so apt to do.
I’m so thankful that God put Max in my path (I found him on Craig’s List!) when He did because we really did need each other. I hope he felt every bit as loved as he was. Especially after spending part or maybe all his life feeling like he wasn’t wanted. I loved that little fella SO good and through him and my family and others, God brought me out of the deepest pit to recover my joy.
It feels terribly lonely today though and I have cried through sorting for pictures to share with you and have realized I don’t want to feel like this. No pup can ever replace my little Max, but I need the companionship of a silly, funny pup. I have been busying my mind in the search for another Malti-shuh or whatever they are calling the Maltese/Shih Tzu mix. The characteristics of both breeds are just what I need, I believe. But it’s hard to find them except from expensive breeders, which we can’t afford or people who are no longer able to care for aged dogs, which I don’t need. I need a younger dog that can be trained. Corey believes we can train a dog to help alert us to low blood sugars which would be extremely helpful! I know this breed isn’t the top recommendation for this sort of training, but right now I’m determined that I need a little one that will be a cuddly furbaby, too. Even if they can’t be FULLY trained to alert, I know that dogs have the natural ability to sense things like that and it would still be helpful even if they don’t know proper alert actions. My mind may change but as it stands right now, it doesn’t much matter. We can’t afford to just purchase a pup from a breeder and besides, I’d rather not do that anyway. I’d like to be able to get a younger dog from an owner who has discovered they can’t care for the dog or maybe has had an unexpected litter of pups. I’d like to find one less than a year old and even a straight-Shih Tzu, Maltese or even a Yorkie would be great. (just throwing this out there in case anyone knows somebody who knows somebody… heh)
My experience with Max tells me that for the most part, the combination of Shih Tzu and Maltese traits are just wonderful other than the drive to chase, which is high in most small dogs already.
I’m thankful for the time I had Max. He was like medicine for my hurting heart. I know God has another dose of good medicine out there somewhere and at the right time, he or she will cross my path. In the meantime, I’m also thankful for my family who has been so sweet in understanding my heartache and sweet Tommy, who I know is also heartbroken but has been so strong for me the past couple days. I am blessed and highly favored.
Go and tell your family and friends you love them and hug your pet. Any and all of them are blessings to be treasured! Always remember there is peace among the pieces of your broken heart if you just let God handle the reassembly.
Okay, well, maybe I am SOMEtimes, but not with the blog. My life has just been crazy lately, y’all!
Besides beginning treatment with my new chiropractor-friend from Emmaus, (an hour + drive each way!) I went camping in The Gorge with some of my kiddos this past weekend. Observe:
My eldest kids are all into rock climbing. I have no clue where they would get such a crazy affection, but they have it bad. They’ve gone from rock gyms to climbing outdoors in the real world (where there are no mats on the floor, guys!) and even worse, my baby boy does “lead” climbing which is when they go up a route where there is no rope, only anchors, and they attach the rope as they climb so that the other climbers can then “top rope”, which a tons safer because they are secured with the rope that anchors to the top and is controlled by a belayer. Just trust me, I was not really thrilled to hear that Corey was doing lead climbing now!
We really love going to Red River Gorge, despite the hour + drive. Honestly, we know we’re blessed to have such an awesome natural wonder so near our home! It’s a rock climber’s dream and people from all over the country (& even other countries!) come here for the climbing.
Some of us, however, are just there to lazy around…
Make note of the area underneath the hammock, if you will, for reference in a later story…Yes, it’s every bit as hard and sloped and dangerous as it looks.
Tommy may not have been the only one who “lazied”… after the all-natural a/c, this was my favorite part:
My little Max was always up for an adventure, but he also was no fool about taking advantage of the natural air conditioning available! Neither was I, obviously!
I thought I was going to get by without having to worry about the Hubs getting himself killed, but nope. He had to give it a try too…
Thankfully, he made it back down using the rope and not natural gravity after realizing it just wasn’t gonna happen. He got farther than I thought he might. Ha..farther than I would have! Abby made it to the top of this route, classified as a 5.9 (don’t ask me, but they said this was impressive)! She was worn out afterward, which is to be expected, but I was really proud of the little stinker! She’s lots braver than me!
The poor dogs got worn out considerably sooner. You’d have thought they were the ones climbing rock walls…but I guess it’s not really much fun tromping around the woods in a fur coat, huh?
The Gorge has some very awesome eating establishments, too. Even though we had packed food to prepare at camp, we ended up at SkyBridge more than once. It’s the closest to the campground we were at and not only has awesome food, but a great atmosphere. You just don’t know what to expect from those guys at SkyBridge…
Here’s only a portion of the aftermath of one of our trips to SkyBridge:
We camped at Koomer Ridge campground and it has become our favorite. Abby and Austin had to leave Saturday night and then Corey and Melissa left early Sunday morning, so that left Tommy, Max and myself all on our own the rest of the day.
Tommy and I had a super-relaxed morning, just slowly packing up while cooking ourselves a monstrous breakfast and waiting to watch our church service stream live.
Can’t let you go without a shot of the great cast iron setup we have…some of the cookware is Corey’s, but Tommy made the stand, which also doubles as a free-standing tripod, on his forge.
Most of The Gorge, or “The Red” as the climbers refer to it, is located within Daniel Boone National Forest and the area just abounds in natural beauty and all manner of outdoor adventures. Natural Bridge State Park is another awesome attraction as well as things like Nada Tunnel and the Gladie Welcome Center.
So, referring back to the rough terrain located underneath the hammock that was hung while we were out with the climbers… we moved it from the location in the photo to another place, steeper and with more jutting rocks underneath. Tommy insisted I sit in it since there was no glorious air conditioning rock-crack at the next place. I did and was enjoying watching the kids when he comes over and proceeds to wriggle his big ol’ self up in the thing with me!
I immediately started protesting, telling him he was going to “break the trees”, only it wasn’t the trees I should have worried about. I was really NOT happy that he’d got in there and would have gotten out if it hadn’t been such a physical challenge, but I was thinking about the easiest way to get up out of the thing when PING… I heard the odd noise and immediately felt the hammock move beneath me and BAM we hit the ground, right on top of those big rocks sticking out of the ground and proceeded to slide down the steep slope.
ARGH! Yes, really, I could have clobbered Tommy right then. He still has a red welt on his back and I’m still nursing the bruises. Then I had to explain that all to my chiropractor the next day. Sheesh!
You’re welcome. It seems everyone got a good laugh from that one. sigh
Other “injuries” sustained include my poor foot…I’m making this a small photo in black and white in the hopes of not grossing anyone out, but my right foot has always had this big callous of a thing that always has a shallow split. But when I walked up the steep grades with my Chacos (which have a rough inner sole) I ended up with it splitting further, so much so it began to hurt.
Tommy, also in his Chacos all weekend, but only because he forgot his boots, ended up with terribly swollen feet. Maybe it’s just old age?
Anyhow, I’m really not slacking…I’m just busy adventuring and being battered by nature. Hahahaha!!
Til next time!
So, here’s our Maxie. We had been talking about a canoe/kayak trip for Memorial Day with our youngest babies for a few weeks. This is the day before that, when “they” (meaning not me) decided we had time to make a practice run down a closer river than the one we had planned for Memorial Day.
I’m not sure what possessed us to think Max ought to go, but go he did. And he did awesome. He is such an amazing little boogar. I’m always impressed with him whenever we take a leap and take him with us somewhere. He’s such a good boy. He never seemed the least bit scared on the water, although he did simply step or roll out into it a few times. We’re not sure if he thought all the pollen on the surface meant there was solid ground where the water was still so he should be able to walk on it or if he needed to potty and was determined to get to a good potty spot.
As unafraid as Max was, I, on the other hand, was not so brave. Almost from the start, we hit a bit of rough water, or rather the Hubby was moving more than I was comfortable with and I panicked. That just set the mood for me. I suddenly remembered how little I actually liked canoeing. The kids have a couple of kayaks but Hubby has a canoe, so that’s what we float in.
I don’t much like a canoe. I don’t much like water, actually and especially if it’s moving at all. In case you didn’t know, the very first time Hubby took me canoeing we went with his buddies to a river he’d never been to himself, with class 3 rapids and he had never been in the back of a canoe (where you steer from) he’d always been in the front!
As a result, I got dumped out no less than three times, each time in a section of rapids. It was everything from unnerving to terrifying. My insulin pump got water damage and one of the buttons get broken from hitting the solid-rock river bottom so I spent the next few days giving shots because I had no pump, not to mention that my sugars shot up during the remaining 2+ hours of water-time and 3 hour ride home. I think that’s one of the biggest reasons I don’t like being on the water. It’s a constant fear that my pump will get damaged. Other than that, I would like the water except that I can’t swim…and I hate getting water in my nose and ears.
Yeah so I probably won’t ever be liking water so much. Heh.
I learned on that first trip that moving water is POWERFUL and if you are dumped out in it, you won’t just casually wade to the shore and stroll out of the river. And if you are pinned on top of tree roots or anything else by said water, you might as well forget getting out of the water on your own.
So yeah, those things might have been flashing through my mind every time the canoe rocked back and forth and each time I heard the boat scraping rocks. Then there was the moment when, for some reason, Hubby couldn’t steer the canoe fast enough to keep it from ramming underneath a tree. Since I was in the front of the canoe, I was rammed into and under the tree too, and when I grabbed the limbs to keep them from taking my head off, the canoe tipped just enough to spill me out and Hubby either got dumped or jumped out, leaving poor little Max in there, floating off by himself. After him jumping out on his own, it was funny that he was the only one that stayed in. I came out with a couple of fingernails ripped off and one bleeding with a hunk of meat hanging off the side of one finger.
I wasn’t happy, as you can imagine. I wanted to go back right then and there, but um… well, you don’t “go back” in canoeing. Nobody comes to “pick you up. We had to go on, but my babies suggested we use their kayaks and let them use the canoe. DIL #2 insisted we switch since the kayaks are easier to control in the water.
So Hubby and I got in the kayaks and let Baby Son & DIL #2 in the canoe. I still wasn’t completely comfortable, but it was indeed much simpler to navigate the water and in all honesty, I very much enjoyed the floating down the calm water… but the “bumpy” areas are SO not my favorite!
I decided by the time I had paddled to the take-out point, that I wouldn’t go back with them the next day on the originally planned trip. My neck and shoulders were horrifically tight and they’re still sore today.
The Baby kids, hubby and a friend of theirs went and had a good time. When it took them about 9 hours to run the section they did, I was very glad I’d chosen to stay home, even if it was boring. Maybe I’ll go on the river again, but probably not until I’ve had time to forget that I don’t much like it.
Genesis 41:51 – “….“God has made me forget all my hardship and all my father’s house.”[
In case you are clueless, I’m talking about the trip last week to Nashville with Hubby and our baby dog, Max. This was Max’s first big trip to a fancy hotel in a big city. He did awesome when you consider he’s used to being let out into the back yard when he needs to do his “doodie”… haha. But we had to go down 10 floors in an elevator with a glass back so you could see out the entire, dizzying plummet to the lobby. There, we had to be quiet, which sometimes happened and sometimes not, walk through the lobby and the rotating door and then across the street to the awesome War Memorial park before we could do any sort of doods at all.
Honestly, it was a lot easier than I had feared. When we got into the lobby to check in, my inner dialogue went something like, “What in this WORLD were you thinking? We will NEVER survive the next four days in this place with this dog!!”
Good ol’ Maxie, though, he fooled us.
Hubbs enjoyed the conference well enough, but when we realized that the extra class he’d been signed up at attend wouldn’t be over til after 5 p.m. the last day and hotel check-out time was 11 a.m., well, I might have panicked a little.
We had done fine staying in the hotel, taking walks around the park and up and down the streets surrounding the hotel. There is great value in having a cool, secluded base camp (our room). But now we were going to essentially be homeless for at least 6 hours. It was over 80 degrees down there and you couldn’t take pets in a lot of places so I was really concerned about how we’d deal.
It wasn’t fun, but we did it. I ended up having to drive across Nashville TWICE, which was an experience in and of itself!! EGADS!! After I checked out and drove a few blocks away where we had walked the night before, I found a place to park and got Max out to scope the place out a bit. I had read online that pets were allowed in the place I wanted to get brunch, The Frothy Monkey. But when I got there, it was a totally enclosed place and I didn’t want to attempt taking him in and him getting all barky. That would have just freaked me out too much so I took him back to the truck, started it and crated him. I went back and ordered my food, ate it in a fairly leisurely manner and soon noticed that the place was becoming packed. I mean, PACKED!
I could see outside that the traffic was becoming a lot heavier too. So by the time I had finished with my food, gone to the restroom and walked back outside, I found that the street was a virtual madhouse!
That’s when the panic set in.
I had actually driven a short distance from the hotel to a park the day before. It was really crowded and there was a large area I couldn’t take Max, so when I found another park online not too far away, I had made tentative plans to drive over there. But now…I was feeling so unsure of whether I could even maneuver my way out of the parking lot, let alone make it all the way across town to a place I’d never even been before.
I was truly overcome with panic. And I’m not really an anxious person to the point of feeling it physically when I get worried, but on this day, I was a big ol’ mess. I texted the friends from my reunion group and asked them to pray for me. I texted my kids back home and asked them to pray. I felt soem peace knowing that they would indeed pray and from the encouraging messages some of them sent.
I began to feel God’s presence with me and the panic began to fade a bit. I was concerned about whether I had enough parking time left to sit there til the traffic thinned a bit. But even before my time had expired, I was feeling much better and confident enough that with Jesus’ help, I could do this.
So I took off and even though the feelings of panic rose up again a time or two, they never overtook me. Even with a couple of detours from the GPS directions because of construction, I still made it to the park without incident and boy, was I relieved!
I sat there for a bit, thanking God and recalling all the times He has delivered me in times just like this…and worse! And I kicked myself for getting into such a state in the first place.
Why do I do that? Why is my first reaction to panic and fret? I guess that’s just part of human nature, but it sure makes me angry at myself. As I sat there remembering how REAL and how EVIDENT God was to me a few years ago when I had run over my foot with our lawnmower. I had cut off a big slice of my heel and had to have a couple surgeries, a skin graft and was on crutches for months. For a T1 diabetic, that is some major risk, we tend to heal SO slowly and SO badly.. but God.
He healed that huge wound faster and better than most of my hangnails. I kid you not. The first few days after the accident while they kept me in the hospital waiting to see a specialist and make sure I didn’t develop infection, He even healed me of the diabetes.
Yep, you read that right. I had SO many people praying for me, and I am certain most of them were just saying, “Heal Geannie, Lord.” I fully believe that because of those prayers, or maybe just because God felt like showing off, I got to a point where I didn’t need insulin at all. I actually turned off my insulin pump and disconnected it. If i didn’t, my sugars stayed dangerously low.
No, it’s not “a thing” for diabetics to do this after a trauma. It’s not normal at all. That’s just another reason I know God was behind it. Now, it was only for a few days, not a permanent healing, but perhaps that time of my body not having to deal with outside attempts to regulate my sugars jump-started the healing in my foot, maybe it did some other weird thing that promoted the quick healing. I don’t know. And you know what? I don’t HAVE to know why or what.
God knows what He’s doing.
People sometimes ask me if it was awful when I realized I needed to start back on the insulin. No. It wasn’t. I have no clue why God would heal me for that brief period of time other than to give me this testimony, to give me this reminder of the faith that I so often need. Or maybe it’s because YOU needed to hear this story for some reason.
And if that’s the only reason it happened, that’s okay with me. Through all this, and the many other times God has pulled me through something, I have learned, albeit slowly and the hard way, but finally, I have learned to trust Him with my life.
EVEN when it looks like my life might come to an end or be horrifically changed. Romans 8:28 says “And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.” That is SO true, but we have to trust that, to believe it’s true. No matter WHAT the “things” look like, no matter how scary they might be, we must trust that God is in control and He’s working and putting things together for a purpose and for our ultimate good.
We don’t have to understand the process, we just have to trust the Orchestrate-or.
I have always loved this saying, and honestly, I’m not sure if it’s my original or not, but I’ve never found it anywhere else or attributed to anyone else, but here it is…let it minister to you the way it has countless times for me:
I don’t have to know where we’re goin’. Jesus has the map.
Not “crick” like “down by the…” Nope. I have one in my neck. Well, not really a crick. More like the muscles are so stinkin’ tight!
Now this has been going on forEVER! I normally am tight up there and along the tops of my shoulders, but it’s getting to the point where it hurts all the time, not just with certain movements.
I really should go see the chiropractor, but I haven’t made an appointment. I don’t see much use in trying it right now since we are leaving for Hubby’s work conference on Sunday. I doubt I could even get in before we leave. Tow of the kiddos have been going lately and it takes them awhile to get scheduled, so I guess I’ll try to make do and call when I get back late Wednesday.
My sister came by today to leave some egg cartons. We chatted for a little while and it was good. She later called me and offered to keep Maxie-Wag for us while we’re gone. I had mentioned our trip while she was here and that we were planning to take him with us.
I told her I’d let her know and that for now, we just planned to take him. I said if something changed, I’d call her. I’m just not sure she could handle him for that long.
For one, he’s a little hyper sometimes. He likes to jump. Over, in, on and under stuff. ANY stuff. He’s like that cat meme…
So, if he can reach it or fit in it, he’s SO there. He jumps in people’s vehicles, in their laps, or their chairs if they make the mistake of vacating it. And most of the time, it’s not just to sit there calmly to be petted. Nope. He gets all up in your bizniss, right in your face like, “Hey! Look at me! Here I am! Whatcha doin’? Whatcha’ talkin’ ’bout? You should do something (let me out, feed me, find me a toy)! I won’t get out of your face til you fix this situation. You’re welcome.” He also likes to use me as a sort-of vertical trampoline. At least that’s what he acts like, coming from the other room sometimes, full speed ahead and *POUNCE*, he’ll plant all fours on me with enough force to leave a bruise just because he wants my attention. Seriously!?
I’m just afraid four days of him will be too much for her. And then she can be pretty forgetful too and I’m afraid she’d forget to put his radio collar on when she let him out, or that she’d try to grab/catch him by his front feet when he’s bouncing up to face level the way he does. Usually that means he wants you to cuddle him like a baby, but sometimes he’s just doing The Tigger. Just because he can.
I dunno. It would be nice to not have to worry about him when we are out. There’s some kind of social thing at a fancy restaurant one night, then of course, we’ll have to get food at least a time or two. We can’t leave him in the room even in the crate, so we figured we’d have to crate him in the truck, even if we leave it in the garage and walk wherever we’re going. Depending on the weather, that could mean we have to leave the thing running so he won’t get too warm. Then there’s the sorta-scary thought of having to try and keep him occupied all day while Hubby’s in his labs or whatever at the conference.
In one way I think it’d be great to have Max there to keep me occupied, but then I think, I COULD just take LOTS of long naps or watch LOTS of movies too…and I could easily do that, trust me.
*sigh* I just hope I’m not too freaked out by being in the middle of a huge city and will be able to go take him out walking some. Looks like there’s a big park about a quarter-mile away. I might attempt to make it over there. Just not sure about walking.
Not that I couldn’t, but when I think of something like that, I get nervous about what would happen if I went low or something, ya know? Argh!
And now I am in that horrible indecisive cycle where I can’t make a stinkin’ decision. Drives me crazy.
Ah well… I guess writing about it didn’t help and how pathetic is it that I had to sit down and write about whether or not to take my dog on a trip?!?!
I am certifiable!
Proverbs 16:33 – “The lot is cast into the lap, but its every decision is from the Lord.”
So today, Hubby has been…let’s say, exploring his limits. He thinks when a doctor tells him to take it easy, that means to just do what he always does, only slower.
Today, our boys needed some help using a laser they were not familiar with on the job. They brought it up to the house first thing so their dad could help them set it up and teach them how to figure the settings. It was all very confusing and boring, but soon they felt confident with it and took off to their job.
Ever since yesterday, Hubby has been saying he was going to try driving today, wanted to go get his hair cut and price new tires for our truck at the local tire shop. I told him he was NOT going to drive, but first thing this morning he was insisting on it again.
The boys called to asked their dad a question a couple different times, so soon as I was dressed, he said we “needed” to go check on them. “It won’t take long,” he assured me.
I had decided if he was going to insist on driving, we might as well take Max with us. He loves to ride and if we plan to take him to Nashville in May, he needs all the ‘practice’ and time in the truck. I said he loves to ride, and he does, but he’s not crazy about his tether.
We HAD to get the tether because Max is like a rubber ball, bouncing all over the cab, pushing buttons and knocking mirrors and rolling down windows…he’s a real mess. But he does okay with the tether, the worst thing is that he goes around and around in the seat til he’s got it twisted up and pins himself to the seat.
Anyhow, so we get to the job site and next thing I know, Hubby is attempting to hobble down to the main area with the boys right behind him ready to catch him if he fell. *shaking my head*
He had to do some re-figuring on the settings, and studying the plans and shooting the grade… and a bunch of other stuff. We ended up being there for almost 3 hours.
SHEESH!! Thankfully, somehow God made me calm and it didn’t bother me in the least to be stuck at a job site with the dog and absolutely nothing to do. Trust me, that is completely out of character for me. And the other great thing I’m thankful for is how good Max was! We walked and walked, we sat in the truck and watched/barked at people, we sat nicely in the parking lot and watched intently all the goings-on with the big equipment. He was such an awesomely good puppy!! He was definitely glad to get home, but even more glad, it would appear, to get to sleep:
So all that is great and I’m thankful that Hubby seems to be doing so well, I just hope he’s not pushing himself too hard and makes his healing take longer, ya know?
Something that happened yesterday has me upset and totally confused. My sister called about a week ago wanting to do Easter dinner the night before Easter (I don’t know why) at her house. I said, sure, what should I fix. She said layer salad. I said sure, great. And that was that.
Both my boys’ birthdays are in April. Precisely two weeks apart, matter of fact. I dunno how we managed that, but I assure you it was not planned. Anyhow, it always makes for a very hectic month what with winter coming to an end, spring blowing in and making it easier to do things outside, then Easter and their two birthdays, either of which sometimes will fall on Easter weekend. This year, it’s my baby son.
Last I knew, his wife told me she wanted to plan a cookout for him, but she’d let me know. It depended on when her parents could come. (honest moment here: that made me kinda upset, although I did NOT let on, but why did it matter when they could come for HIS birthday? argh… obviously, I’m a little hyper-sensitive when it comes to anything to do with them, still, I found out just today and because I pressed that she’s putting off this cookout for a week and I can only assume it has to do with them and that bothers me)
ANYhow…so yesterday, I’m talking to my mom on the phone and she informs me, as if I didn’t know anything, that we were going to do Easter dinner at sis’s house, and “If you wanna come, fine and if you don’t, that’s fine too.”
Yep. Paint a blank, wide-eyed expression on me here. I have NO CLUE why she said that or what was up her butt when she did. All I know is that my sister’s car was at Mom’s almost all day Sunday. I didn’t talk to her Monday and thus, she wasn’t told about Hubby’s accident, sometime or other, she found out though, possibly from DIL2, but it doesn’t matter. I wasn’t TRYING to keep it from her, I just didn’t want her to worry OR to hear what I did when she asked me how he was.. that accusatory tone and the questions as if he could have somehow avoided it or that he brought it on himself.
I am just bewildered, as I always am when she does stuff like this. She went on, after her “come or don’t, fine” remarks, to request that I fix a casserole. I swear, I am so tempted to just deliver the foods and leave. Honestly? If I did, they would all wonder what was wrong with me. I can just about bet you Mom would act as if something was wrong with me and either deny she said that to me or act as if I took it wrong.
I just don’t know. I’m just way past sick of this crap. I dunno if Sis was up there complaining about me all day Sunday and that’s why Mom was crappy to me or if she was just that way on her own. I just don’t know and I’m so sick of trying to figure out this garbage.
If the opportunity presents itself, I may pull Sis aside and ask her if she had told Mom she didn’t want me there or if Mom just said that to me on her own. I don’t know. There has been a lot of stuff in our sermons lately about making relationships right, but I just don’t know how to fix anything with my family. Where is the line between being who you are, being your own person and trying to be what God wants me to be and making peace with them?? Why do I need to “stuff” my own interests and personality in order to be acceptable to them?
I am at my wit’s end with them.
And… just for the record, I’m not sure the 450mg dose of Wellbutrin is going to be much more beneficial than the 300mg. It’s just not doing anything “more”… just not worth the extra meds, ya know? I will see the PA in a couple weeks so we’ll see what she has to say. Hopefully it won’t be to just chew me out for upping the dose on my own!
Genesis 37:5, 10-11 – “Now Joseph had a dream, and when he told it to his brothers they hated him even more.
10 But when he told it to his father and to his brothers, his father rebuked him and said to him, “What is this dream that you have dreamed? Shall I and your mother and your brothers indeed come to bow ourselves to the ground before you?” 11 And his brothers were jealous of him,but his father kept the saying in mind.”