Saturday Night Fever!

OK Not really, but we had a blast anyway- even without Kevin Bacon or dancing!

Hubby wanted to get out of the house so we went rollerskating! This was the first time I have been skating in probably 15 years, and it's been well over 20 for him, and the kids have never gone. So I knew it was going to be a work out.

I did pretty good though! I went around the rink once by myself just to get the feel of the wheels under my feet, and wobbled once or twice. Then I went around with the kids a few times (mostly Sissy, as she was having the most trouble), then once by myself again. That second time around I was really feeling the rhythm of the skates, and it worked out pretty well! I had trouble stopping with the rubber stoppers, but those things were so worn down that I probably WOULD have fallen on my face had I relied on them. But, stopping gracefully wasn't always one of my stronger skills anyway.

Luckily the place was pretty empty, because all 3 boys were absolutely pwning the rink! Little TomTom was out there on his little skates just walking his heart off, and loving every minute of it! He'd walk with me about halfway around the rink, then he wanted his daddy. Twice he threw a FIT and tried to go backwards, or just straight across the rink to get to him. Nicky was also doing well on his own. Again, only really walking, but he was having a blast. And Bubby, Oh my word!! I've never seen him so independent and confident! He was trying SO hard to actually skate, and was, for the most part, actually rolling around the rink! I would be slowly making my way around with one of the other 3, and look up only to finally spot him all the way on the other side, just peddling that ground for all he was worth!

Poor Sissy, on the other hand, could barely make it 10 feet without falling on her rump. I felt really bad for her, but I know it's just part of the process of learning how to skate. I stayed with her for the majority of the hour we were out on the rink, and she only had one meltdown, which was pretty easily diffused. Fortunately it didn't escalate into the volcanic eruption of a meltdown she COULD have had, but I think when it did happen, she was frustrated at herself, and then sad that I had left her to go check on the boys.

I have to admit, I'm not the best teacher. I don't have as much patience as a true teacher, so more often than not, I tend to get frustrated right along with my student, as they're frustration grows about their own inability to understand. I was pretty proud of myself last night though. I only fussed at her one time, and that was when she started to fall, and instead of grabbing the wall or just falling, she grabbed a hold of Nicky, pulling him down with her, and hurting him in the process. Otherwise I did really good staying patient with her, and trying to keep her confidence up. I'm just not very good at teaching the process. I can see what she's doing wrong, and figure out how to fix it. But explaining what she needs to change is a whole other thing... one that I'm not super great at. So I tried a few times, and when it didn't work, I just let her figure it out the best she could, and just held her hand along the way.

So far this morning I'm sore as can be. From my neck down I'm stiff, and I'm slow to move. But I'm not completely immobile, which I'm grateful for.
Now I can't wait to go again!

and Nicholas Cage, oh my!

I don't know what it is about Nic.... I love the man! OK well, not as like, "In" love with him, but I love him as an actor. He certainly chose the right profession! Every movie I've seen him in, even if the movie itself isn't great (coughMoonstruckcough) he is a great actor. He really seems to put all of his heart and brains into what he does. I feel what his character feels. I empathize, I sympathize. I laugh, I cry, I feel all of the emotions he wants me to feel.
Whether it's a comedic drama- Family Man - a super action flick- Gone in 60 Seconds - a heart wrenching love story - City of Angels - or just a good ole awesome story - The Rock - he has yet to dissatisfy me. In fact, from the way The Sorcerer's Apprentice looks, and Ghost Rider was, he's venturing out and getting better and better. It seems he's not afraid to touch base in a wide variety of genres, which makes him such a versatile actor!

I mean, when I want to sit and laugh, I know I can always count on Adam- but let's face it, so far there's only 2 movies I can think of coming from him that would fulfill any other emotions. You want to know what they are, don't you? LOL Spanglish would be the first one- as it's not a comedy at all, but a romantic drama, which I LOVED. And Reign Over Me, which I've only gotten to see once, unfortunately, but it was well worth it- also, not a comedy in any shape or form. I know The Longest Yard is also not a comedy, but I don't like to 'count' it in Adam in particular films, as it is a remake. Great movie, and I love both versions, but his influence was not put into that one, as it's almost as old as he is!

So I adore that when I feel loss, I can watch World Trade Center and cry. When I want to just watch a good story, I can pop in Lord of War. When I'm feeling twitchy, I can see Matchstick Men. When I want hardcore action, I view Con Air. Or when I want a twisty-turny mystery I pick 8MM, National Treasure, Face Off, or Snake Eyes!

Nic has yet to disappoint! I blame age and lack of experience on Moonstruck and Leaving Las Vegas- I mean, everyone's gotta start somewhere. Good lord have you ever seen Going Overboard? Aye yae yae! But even though the 2 story lines weren't the best, Nic still gave it his all and played the best he could play!  I've never seen anything prior to Moonstruck, but I'd like to think he was doing something right to be cast along side Cher! Quite a triumph in that era!

Sometimes I hate... random rant.

Any time I think or say the words "I hate..." I always hear this little voice in my head saying "Oh, hate is such a strong word, you shouldn't use it". But you know what- I do. It may be a strong word, but it's a strong emotion. And I, personally, don't see the difference in saying "I hate this website because it's not loading right" or "I really dislike this website because it's not loading right"

Hate can be a long term or a short term emotion.
I hate my brother. Have for over a decade. Probably always will.
I hate my father. Have for almost a decade. Probably always will. I don't care that if it weren't for him I wouldn't be here. He's a bully and a jerk. I cannot stand him.
I hate when my dog follows me around the way he does. It drives me NUTS- GO LAY DOWN!! When he stops doing it, then I'll stop hating the fact that he does it.
I hate when I have to repeat myself 4 times for my child to hear what I'm saying. When they start paying attention, I'll stop hating the times they don't.

I hate myself. Very rarely do I find anything good about myself. Usually I don't try very hard, but that's usually because I find myself contradicting myself when I do.
Such as- "Ooh, this dress looks really cute" to which I reply "no it doesn't- I look like a beached whale because it shows off my gigantic fat rolls and the sleeves are too short so you can see my bat wings, and the skirt is too short so you can see my thunder thighs"
I can pick apart my entire body, and personality.

I hate that I get so impatient with my children.
I hate that I get frustrated when my daughter isn't trying during school.
I hate that I interrupt them when I don't mean to- and shouldn't! Considering I teach them it's not OK to interrupt.

I find myself finding things about myself to hate, which makes me feel like a horrible mother. I have never been good about thinking before speaking, so despite the fact I try hard not to degrade my children, I can snap at them pretty quick- and realize right after the words have slipped out that I shouldn't have said that. Or perhaps said it in a different way or tone.
I am quick to apologize and explain what I did wrong and why. But I feel like I should be able to stop it before it gets to the point of NEEDING to apologize. And I hate that I have such a hard time doing that.

Sometimes I hate other people.
I hate that my landlords care more about the jerk construction company in the lot next door than they do my family. And I hate the jerks that work for the construction company for endangering my children and dog, and trashing my yard and not caring about any of it.

Sometimes I hate money.
It's so hard to deal with. And it's always more going out than coming in.
And I hate that I can't find a place for us to buy that we want, like, will fit us, and we can afford. I know I'm crazy for wanting to double my shelter costs every month by buying a house, but I'm so sick and tired of dealing with landlord crap and other people in general. People who drive through my yard. People who hit my mailbox and demolish it. People who pull into my driveway to hide from the cops. People who work for the construction company. People who refuse to keep their outside animals confined. I have enough poop to clean up- I have a St. Bernard. I don't need to or want to clean up other animals' as well.

I hate people who think it's OK to have an "outside cat". Do you realize where your cat goes and what it does when it's not confined? Well here, let me tell you. It goes into other people's yards and uses their garden as a litter box. It climbs on top of other people's cars leaving trails of muddy cat prints all over the hood, windshield, and roof. It squeezes into any nook it can find to get in someplace warm- such as a garage, shed, or engine compartment of a vehicle. It gets into other people's trash shredding the plastic bags and pulling half of the contents out to get to the chicken bone, animal fat, or dirty diaper that is somewhere in there they want to eat. It sits in others yards and causes their dogs to run out of their yards because they want to chase them. It kills small rodents and leaves the carcasses on others porch or in their yard.
What is even the point of an outside cat? They have NO purpose whatsoever. You're too lazy to clean a litter box, maybe? You don't want your house smelling like ammonia, perhaps? Then maybe you should get a bird. Oh wait, please don't. Cause if it's too much trouble to scoop litter once a day, then you're just going to kill a bird.

I know God is working with me to deal with my patience and tolerance. But I have a long way to go. So in the meantime... sometimes I hate.

Suicide is Not Selfish

Probably one of the most disturbing, heartbreaking things I've read recently was someone calling their relative selfish because he took his own life.
Like most things people say online, I just ignored it. It irritated me, like many things do, but I chose not to reply to it or even let it disrupt my day.
But now it’s 4:14 AM and I’ve been up since about 3. I woke up because of back pain, and have stayed up because of my brain running 1000 miles a minute. My psychiatrist likes to call this “racing thoughts”. I’m not sure how accurate that wording is for me, but I’m not writing this to analyze my own issues.
I’m writing this because, in the midst of my scattered thoughts, my brain bounced back to those words I read yesterday. “Before he committed that selfish act….” or something to that effect. And since that popped in my head, I haven’t been able to take my mind off it.

I’m having trouble figuring out why someone would ever think that committing suicide is selfish.
I should first say that there are many reasons someone would kill themselves. But I can generalize most of them into a few categories.

Drug abuse- sometimes causing either an accidental suicide, or the drugs cause a bad trip and make the person hallucinate. I don’t know much at all about this category because I’ve never taken drugs, so I can only image how someone would have a drug induced panic attack and decide to kill themselves, as it’s certainly never something I’ve experienced. I think, perhaps, this might be the ONLY category I could ever agree that suicide is selfish, and that’s because drug use, to me, is selfish. But, I don’t know anything about drug use other than the selfish behavior I saw in my brother, so I only have that to go on. I don’t claim to understand people’s reasoning behind using drugs. It just doesn’t seem like a well thought out option to me. But I don’t always think when people say “suicide is selfish” they don't mean a drug induced suicide, because that, to me, is more stupid than selfish.

Physical pain or disability- Have you ever had a tooth ache? Have you ever been pregnant? Have you ever suffered cluster headaches or migraines? Have you ever had any kind of chronic pain? Have you ever had back pain? Pain is a horrible thing. It’s a helpful thing, because it tells us something is wrong, and tells us when we’ve pushed ourselves too far. However, chronic pain is the worst thing in the entire world. And if you’ve never experienced it, you can be thankful. Chronic pain is pain that is almost always there. For me, it’s my lower back. I have rarely gone through a day that I haven’t felt pain in my lower back, hips, and legs at some point. Sometimes it’s just a shooting pain that only lasts a minute when I bend over to pick something up. Other times it’s an all day pain that no matter what I do, how I move, how I sit, lay, stand, whether I put heat or ice on it, it just plain hurts. Pain like this makes you cranky. It makes you insane. Because it doesn’t make sense. It just won’t quit. It interrupts everything you want to do- NEED to do. Sometimes pain medication helps- if your doctor will give it to you. Other times you can’t take the amount of pain medication you need to dull it because you have the responsibilities of life in front of you- like children. Pain is… pain is pain. It just plain hurts. And it affects you in more ways than just hurting. And if you’ve never felt that kind of pain, you just can’t comprehend. Pain can cause depression. Pain can cause suicide.
Physical disability falls into this category as well. There’s a lot of physical disabilities that cause a person to need constant care. Sometimes embarrassing, constant care. When a person can’t go to the bathroom by themselves; can’t feed themselves; dress themselves- do anything by themselves- it’s maddening. Even if pain isn’t necessarily involved, the fact that if you want to do something and you can’t without someone else taking on part of the task of doing it with you or for you, it can feel degrading. The lack of independence is frustrating. And again, sometimes embarrassing. Which can cause depression or suicide.

Mental illness- This is the biggy. This is probably the most misunderstood reason someone would take their own life. And it’s probably the most common. I have no statistics, I may be wrong. But I KNOW about the hidden world of mental illness. And I don’t just mean depression, that’s just a more popular and well accepted form. I’m talking about schizophrenia, munchausens, bipolar disorder, PTSD, omg there’s so many. In fact, here’s a website http://www.psychforums.com/forum.html that you can just scroll down and see the list of different disorders. And many of those main topics have SUB topics in them. It’s a HUGE world that’s hidden in the shadows of society. We may have moved past the cruelness of an asylum, but we’re far from acceptance and even farther from understanding. Consequently, mental illness is hidden by the sufferer, mostly due to fear. The pain of mental illness is a chronic pain. It may not cause literal ‘sliced my finger open’ kind of pain, but it hurts. Whatever demons are rolling around in the head of the mentally ill are ALWAYS there, and unforgiving. There’s some medication out there that can help- if you get the right one, or the right combination. But the difference between physical pain and mental illness pain is that the drugs that help physical pain all pretty much target one area of the brain- the pain center. The medicine, at different degrees of strength, will dull pain receptors in a few different ways, with the ultimate goal of blocking the signals from the nerves so you don't feel the hurt anymore. Mental illness doesn’t have a special place in the brain. It consumes the whole thing. If it did only focus on one area, we’d still have doctors performing lobotomies. But we’ve learned that that doesn’t work- it just causes the person to suffer silently, since they’re no longer able to talk, walk, or crap by themselves anymore. But the pain is still there. The voices, the thoughts, the nagging, the aching, the racing.
It can take years of testing different medications over the course of a few months each before you find the right fit for your illness- if you ever do. And many of those medications can actually make the problems WORSE while they’re being taken. And even then, depending on the illness, it’s sometimes hard to stick with taking them. Bipolar sufferers are some of the worst, because the mania can cause a person to believe they don’t need the medicine anymore, so they stop taking it. Other illnesses cause a person to hear other voices that tell them to stop taking the medicine. And one illness can actually cause a person to BE several different people at one time. Each one with their own personality, and feelings. One alter may not want to take the medicine, so when it comes time, they take over the body and dispose of that dose, so when the primary comes back into control, they believe they have taken it and go on with their day.

Different mental illnesses allow different levels of control to the sufferer. A person with schizophrenia or dissociative disorder may be able to supress the delusions and go on about their business. However a person with clinical depression may not be able to fight off the sadness and continue through their day.
There’s an ‘in between’ road as well. Unfortunately this is a road that so many mentally ill travel. Rather than let the illness consume them so that they’re stuck in bed all day long, or completely get a handle on the illness so that it doesn’t bother them at all- they struggle silently. They go to work, take care of children, have social lives, all the while inside their head is screaming. Inside, they are struggling, and hurting, and feeling things that don’t make any sense to a healthy person. A person with some kind of compulsion disorder may be constantly fighting to NOT do what it is they are wanting so bad to do, whether it’s clean, steal, kill, or open and shut a door 20 times before they feel it’s complete. You may not think twice about it, but a person with mental illness may be internally going INSANE because you set your drink on the bar without a coaster.  Another person may be trying to have a conversation with you, the whole while trying to ignore the voice in their head screaming at them to punch you in the face, or grab the knife off the table and slice their own wrists open, or run to the balcony and just jump off, all the while you’re talking about the stupid thing that happened to you at work that day.

Could you imagine living your life like that? There’s an exercise you can do to try and help you understand what a mentally ill person goes through. (This is also affective in helping you understand a person who has ADD/ADHD)  Sit at a table somewhere busy, bustling with people and noise. Take 3 needy children with you, preferably ones who are hungry, cranky, and impatient. Put a pair of headphones on your head and listen to some quiet heavy metal music. All the while read a newspaper article. After 30 minutes see if you have any idea what that newspaper article was talking about. Then, and only then, could you have a miniscule fraction of an idea of what a mentally ill person deals with CONSTANTLY. Day to day, off and on ALL day long- not just for 20 minutes.
Could you live like that? Could you function? Could you satisfy the needs of those 3 children when all of that is going on? Eventually, yes. You learn how. You cope. Just because it’s hard doesn’t mean it’s impossible. Many parents do it every day. They’re not bad parents, or incapable parents because of the distractions. But it’s a hard, long, suffering, struggling life. And they suffer silently. They manage to push the distractions aside and focus on the children, and suffer inside, alone. All alone. Nobody understands. Nobody can hear. Nobody can know. Because if they do, would they think you’re not a capable parent? How could YOU care for your children in that situation? You’d probably think you can’t. So a person who deals with that constantly can’t either. And that’s just not true. A parent’s love is stronger than a mental illness. It may not be able to beat it. The parent may still suffer. But they’re still going to be a parent. Some don’t. Some become neglectful. But it doesn’t take mental illness to make someone neglectful. All I’m saying is that just because a person has a mental illness doesn’t mean they can’t be a good parent. All it means is that they struggle silently.

And during that struggle, sometimes suicide comes into the mind of the person. Why? Because more often than not they believe their children would be better off without them. Their spouse would be better off without them. Their family would be better off without them. The WORLD would be better off without them. They would stop being a burden to everyone. They would stop suffering. The pain would stop. The distractions would stop. The voices would stop. The horrible feelings of self loathing would stop. The compulsion would stop.

How on earth is that selfish?

7's Featured Music This Week

Green Day 

Boulevard of Broken Dreams

Personally, I think 'Boulevard of Broken Dreams' by Green Day is an incredible song.

I'm a semi-fan of Green Day. I'm kind of picky-choosey about which songs I like. They have their bad ones, that's for sure. But the experience they've gained through the years has proven to be beneficial, as 'Boulevard of Broken Dreams' is a rather deep song. The instrumental aspect of their band hasn't really developed, unfortunately, but I could care less if you used 3 chords or 10 to play a song- if it touches my heart, that's all that matters.

I don't relate to this song in a general way, as I'm rarely physically alone. Some people might connect because they are still searching for their soul mate to walk next to them through life- but that's not me. My soul mate is already with me, and we've walked through quite a bit, side by side, over the last almost decade. But mentally, I'm usually pretty solitary. There's just not a whole lot of people out there like me. And if they are like me one way, they're missing the other half. Either they're mentally ill and alone- no spouse, no children; or they have a spouse and children and are 'crunchy' like me, but mentally intact. I deal with both. So very often I find I walk alone.

Caution- the "F" word is used in this song, but it has been garbled out. I feel it's safe for children to hear, as it kind of sounds like "fouled' the way they have it garbled.. but it's there, just so you know.

Lyrics:

I walk a lonely road
the only road that I have ever known
Don't know where it goes
But it's home to me and I walk alone

I walk this empty street
on the Boulevard of Broken Dreams
where the city sleeps
and I'm the only one
and I walk alone

I walk alone
I walk alone
I walk alone
I walk a-

My shadow's only one that walks beside me
My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating
Sometimes I wish someone out there would find me
Til then I walk alone

I'm walking down the line
that divides me somewhere in my mind
on the borderline of the edge and
where I walk alone

Read between the lines
what's F*ed up and everything's alright
check my vital signs
and know I'm still alive
and I walk alone

I walk alone
I walk alone
I walk alone
I walk a-

My shadow's only one that walks beside me
My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating
Sometimes I wish someone out there would find me
Til then I walk alone

I walk this empty street
on the Boulevard of Broken Dreams
where the city sleeps
and I'm the only one
and I walk a-

My shadow's only one that walks beside me
My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating
Sometimes I wish someone out there would find me
Til then I walk alone

Speaking of Apollo

The dog is starting to drive me nuts.

I've always heard that dogs have a 7th sense about pregnancy. I mean, they can't have a 6th sense about it- that's taken up by being able to tell how we feel, lol. Which is, by the way, completely true. Ever notice your dog get a little more cuddly when you are depressed? Ever notice him constantly nudging your hand for pets when you're mad? (Or perhaps hiding in the other room when you're mad? hehe)

Apollo started his life in this house sleeping in "his room" AKA the laundry room. My laundry room is huge and has a linoleum floor, which cold weather dogs just love, since carpet can get too hot for them. And I'm talking about true cold weather dogs- Saints, Huskies, Malamutes, Newfoundlands.
Even when Scott and I slept in the second living room, before giving it to the boys, and we started letting him roam free at night, he would usually pick the small linoleum spot right in front of the front door to sleep. Very rarely did he sleep in our bedroom. I think the only time I remember him sleeping in there with us was the first night I didn't shut him in the laundry room for bed. He happily wagged his tail, following me into the bedroom. Hubby was at work on overnights, and I was feeling a little anxious, so the company was welcome. I slipped into my PJ's and climbed into bed. And the mammoth lug jumped up and laid down next to me! It really startled me, and I pet him for a second, then made him get down. He's never tried to get up there again, thank goodness. Either his previous owners allowed him to do this, or he could sense my anxiety and wanted to be close to me.

Mind you, Saints are NOT guard dogs. They are not watch dogs. They, in no way, shape, or form, protect your house or your belongings. In fact they rarely bark. Apollo only does when he wants to, or is playing- tug of war, wrestling, or fetch usually. Otherwise, you never hear that dog. About the only intimidating thing he's got going for him is his mass. Which is usually enough when you don't know him or anything about his breed. (Hey, it worked on the pizza guy. I thought that poor kid was gonna fall off my porch backward when Apollo came up behind me!! LOL Unfortunately, Apollo was more interested in the pizza- not the guy.)
This is not to say Saints are not protective. Luckily, I've yet to have to put it to the test, but, I have read that it is in the Saint's nature to be extremely protective of its family. A Saint will lead a burglar to the vault, tail wagging, drool hanging the whole way. However, if it feels one of its family members are threatened, it becomes aggressive towards the attacker. They are also rescue dogs, but that's not really pertinent to this story.

I suppose it's for those reasons that he's never shown interest in sleeping in my room. That 'protective' guard dog instinct just isn't there. And he's always been pretty happy just laying around, doing his own thing. Just feed him, let him out to potty and play, and love him, and he's satisfied.

Well, he WAS anyway.

Until about 3-4 months ago. Probably shortly after I started really feeling pregnant. I know it's related to the pregnancy, I just can't remember a landmark in the timeline of when he started acting differently. Just after I found out, we moved our bedroom into the little side bedroom to get the boys into the big room and give them more space. Now the big room holds 2 bunk beds, school stuff, dressers, and toy boxes... and there's plenty of room to move around still. And hubby and I have cramped our Queen size platform bed and dresser set into this little room, leaving only about 1 1/2 feet of space to walk around the bed. I'm used to it... what do I need all that space for anyway? My bedroom is a place for me to sleep, get dressed, and have sex. I don't need a huge area- we're just not that creative LOL.

I don't recall noticing it at first, but at some point, after we'd been sleeping in there for a time, Apollo started coming in there with us to go to bed. He sleeps on the floor, of course, originally it was by my side of the bed, but he realized that he had quite the problem turning himself around once he'd gotten himself wedged between the bed and the wall. Then he moved to the foot of the bed. Now, most often, he sleeps on daddy's side of the bed- which happens to be the door side. So we pretty much step on him, trying to step over him, when we get out of bed. He doesn't seem to mind. He just lays there wagging his tail til I get out the door. Then gets up to follow me. However, if daddy is the one to get up, Apollo will follow him out the door, and if he doesn't get let out or fed within an acceptable amount of time, he will come back in and lay back down while I finish sleeping.
I think it's cute how he sleeps in our room. And hubby doesn't seem to mind either. So it's a win-win.

But it's not just the sudden want to sleep within feet of me. Lately, either it's gotten worse, or I am just noticing it more, I can not MOVE without him being within feet of me. I mean, I walked in our bedroom last night, grabbed something, and turned around and walked right back out. Apollo did the exact same thing. He knows he's not allowed in the bathroom (which probably threw him off when I welcomed him in there for a shower the other day hehehe) and here lately he will try to come in there with me. I tell him to leave, so he lays down right in the doorway. He's still on the carpet, but I sure can't get the door to shut without shoving him. I seriously can not walk from one end of the house to the other without him hot on my heels. Which tends to get particularly annoying when I'm in "cleaning" mode and I'm quickly moving from living room to laundry room to kitchen to other rooms. If he was a little dog he'd probably get tangled in my feet and get kicked a few times. Instead, he's a giant dog and just gets in the way, slowing my progress. Especially if he winds up in front of me- he hates that. He wants to be behind me, following me. But occasionally, like when I'm bringing a basket of clean clothes out of the laundry room and shooing him out from the doorway, he'll get stuck in front of me, so he either walks really slow, constantly turning his head to make sure he knows exactly where I'm at, or he'll just plain stop and try to get me to go around him- which usually results in him getting nudged in the butt cause there's no room to go around.

He's also found he's got a really nice place to lay directly in front of the couch. Again, it used to be he would lay next to the couch in front of the door, or across the room in the doorway of the laundry room while we sat down for TV time. Not anymore. Now I can not get up off the couch without stepping over him. And there's no space between him and the couch, oh no. He pretty much puts his butt on the couch edge and lets it slide down til it hits the floor. And that's where he lays. And we have a fairly small couch- especially considering how large our family is. It's a 3 cushion sofa, with the third cushion having a chaise sticking out. So 2 people can sit normally, and the third has their feet propped up. This backward L shape is like the perfect little cubby for him. I find myself, as I get farther along, and more painful and awkward to move, putting my foot down and pushing him with that foot, and telling him "Move, Apollo, let mommy up!" so that he'll move and I don't have to climb over him. You see the "Move, Apollo" used to work. But he's getting where he wants to listen less, and do what he wants to do more. So the simple act of telling him what to do isn't always enough anymore. Instead of him getting up and moving, like he should and use to do, I get his head lifted up and turned to face me, with this look of "really? Do I HAVE to?". So the foot shoving was added to give him a little more understanding that YES, I mean get the heck out of my way, ya 2 ton paper weight!!

I love the big furball to death. I just wish, sometimes, his 7th sense would ease up a little bit. I try to reassure him that 'mommy's OK' but he doesn't understand. Something about that 7th sense is telling him he needs to be right next to me 24/7 just in case.

There he is, in his spot in front of the couch, with his head on daddy's foot.

Feeding Apollo

I've been meaning to share this for a while, but I don't always think about it- most likely because it's just a part of my life, not really significant to me since it's just normal, but possibly odd to others.

My pooch, Apollo, the St. Bernard, gets fed a 'human' diet.

(apparently he makes a great pillow for my 22 month old- this picture was taken just a few weeks ago)

We adopted him in June from a shelter in Billings, and he has been a part of the family from day 1. There was never any question that he fit with our family.

This picture was shortly after we got him. Tommy was about 14 months here. I mean, from day 1, ok, well, maybe day 7 after Tommy got over his fear of this huge, furry monster, Apollo let Tommy climb all over him. Instantly he became Tommy's puppy. And a puppy he is. He's the same age as Tommy, so they will both be 2 in May, and Apollo's puppy tendencies are still very prevalent.

It took a while for both of them to get used to each other. As I said, Tommy was deathly afraid of Apollo- but can you blame him? He was about 135 lbs when we first got him, and taller than Tommy by at least 4 inches. Tommy would run crying to the couch and climb on it to get away from Apollo. It took him about a week and a lot of coaxing to get him to not run away from Apollo. Unfortunately it took a little bit longer for Apollo to realize where Tommy was at and stop plowing him over. The poor dog had NO conception of how big he was (sometimes still doesn't) and would literally just bowl right over top of Tommy with no idea what he was doing. It's taken months of work to get him to pay attention to Tommy, but Apollo has been doing MUCH better in that department.

Apollo was neutered a few weeks after we got him and started filling out. At last estimate he was about 160 lbs, but I'm guessing he's closer to 170-175 now.

Apollo used to get kibble. I was feeding him Beneful, because it was the best I could find without spending $50 for 35 lbs. This dog eats around 6 cups of food in one day, so I was buying a 45 lb bag of Beneful every other week.

But he was still growing. And I was worried about how fast it was happening. I did quite a bit of research on Saints, since he is a giant breed dog, because they are more prone to joint problems, hip dysplasia,  bone development issues, and bloat. Saints are also susceptible to entropion, which is a problem with their lower eye lids, since the Saints already have droopy lids to begin with.

One of the best ways to protect against joint and bone problems is monitoring their diet. When dogs grow too fast, generally from too much protein intake, their bones can become weak and brittle, making it painful for them to walk or carry all that weight around. This worried me, because he is still very active, and was growing at a fast rate, AND was eating as if he'd never been fed before.

Our last dog, an Australian Shepherd, had a lot of skin problems, so I started her on a human food diet and it proved to be exactly what she needed, as her skin became MUCH healthier, and her hair started growing back. I also had less behavior issues with her after the diet change. So I knew the human food diet was successful, I was mostly worried about the cost of feeding a dog the size of Apollo. Was the benefit worth the cost? I wanted to feed him better kibble, as Beneful is decent food, but it's still a 'middle' quality kibble. But the kibble I was wanting to buy him was upwards of $20 more per bag, but the bags were 5 to 10 lbs smaller!

So, one grocery trip I forgot to buy dog food. And, of course, he ran out of food a couple of days later. It was then that I decided I would just go ahead and make the switch. I already knew which foods to avoid- onions, chocolate, cooked bones, fish bones, grapes/raisins.

I started out feeding him raw chicken leg quarters twice a day, and a mixture of food in his bowl twice per day. Instantly the chicken was making him sick. After a bit of research I decided that it would be OK for him to eat boiled chicken. Also, I have a bunch of deer meat from a friend that's been frozen for a few years, and knew would be great to feed him! So he gets a variety of venison, chicken, and cow meat, as well as pasta, rice, raw or frozen vegetables, peanut butter, raw eggs, oatmeal with milk, cheese, plain yogurt, fruit, leftovers that don't have onions in it,Tums (for extra calcium), and 2 different types of vitamins. I read that cooked meat can be a carcinogenic, but that was only from one source, and I can't verify it anywhere else- it seems to work for him- and keeps him from vomiting. He's been on his natural food diet for at least 3 months now and I don't miss the stench of the kibble, the insane amount of poop, or the horrendous stench that eeks from his butt after eating whatever fillers are in the kibble.

While the mixture may not look or sound appealing, it's definitely healthy for him, and he doesn't seem to mind the taste!

For breakfast he gets a full bowl in a mixture of the following:

raw eggs

Peanut butter

cooked oatmeal

fruit

plain yogurt

For lunch I've been giving him about half a bowl of any of the following mixed-
small amount of meat
cooked pasta or rice
raw or frozen veggies
cheese
peanut butter and jelly sandwiches as a special treat!


And for dinner he gets a full bowl of -
meat
cooked pasta or rice, or shredded tortillas/bread
fresh or frozen veggies
fruit
and/or anything we happen to be eating for dinner if it's safe for him.


Initially I didn't feed him a lunch- it was just breakfast and dinner, but he recently began begging at the table as if he was not getting full. So I have recently started adding a lunch in to keep him fuller. I still have to shoo him into 'his room' when we eat, but it's gotten better.

Pregnancy- Week 28

Redundant, isn't it?
A few weeks ago I was just posting about being in week 29, and now I've gone back in my pregnancy to the 28th week! Don't you wish you had my mad baby shrinking skills?

Actually the 29 thing was an estimate based on my (fat) stomach being measured with a tape measure. Yes, the bulge of post-pregnancy flab I carry around, and have come to just call "my fanny pack", altered my measurement by like 4 weeks! If it weren't for that dangle of skin, it would be pretty easy to see I'm carrying pretty high this time. The baby's heartrate dropped down into the 120's, which is a pretty big loss from the 140-150 we were hearing a few weeks ago. But, 7 is moving fine and growing, so I know everything is OK.

for some reason I'm not finding my ultrasound pictures, so I'll be back with those probably tomorrow.
It's 3:21AM and I have my alarm set for 8:30... let's see how well THIS goes!!

Death and Taxes

OK yeah, I totally ripped that off that 'Stranger than Fiction" movie- which is in my top 20 list! I think my favorite character in that movie is Queen Latifah's role. Not just because I'm a huge fan of her acting (I know nothing of her music), but because at the end of the movie, when Harold comes to meet Karen, Queen's character (whose name slips my mind at the moment) is so nonchalant about the whole thing. I mean, Karen and Harold are literally FREAKING out (and who can blame them?) and Queen's like, "just let him read it". LOL Just kills me how she's not having a cow as well.

But, a synopsis of a movie is not why I'm writing.
Maybe I should say, death BY taxes, as I feel like they're going to kill us.

It's that time of year again. Tax time. I have to say since moving to Montana, taxes have been really easy to do. We have 1 W2 to file and our dependents, and that's it. We don't get many deductions since we don't own anything but vehicles, and I won't even start on student loans that I don't pay... cause that's a whole other post/rant.

Although the filing process has always been fairly simple, the state taxes have ALWAYS been messed up. In the past 3 years of filing we've always gotten something back from federal. My husband has moved up into a higher tax bracket, so we're feeling the squeeze of that, but we still manage to get SOMETHING back from Uncle Sam. However, we've yet to even break even with Montana. We ALWAYS owe. And I just don't understand it. I've asked hubby to go talk to HR and change his filing so that we put more in throughout the year, but either they can't get it right, or they're just not upping it enough.

The last 2 years we've owed like $60 the first year, then $100 last year. This year they KILLED us with $2300 owed. So, what little we'll be getting back from federal will go to pay that, PLUS some actual out of pocket money.

Personally, I don't necessarily care about getting money back. It's great, it's nice,  it helps to plan for vacations or large purchases, however, I'd be just as happy to break even all the way around. So I hope that hubs can get into HR next week and change our filing AGAIN for the state so that at least we break even next year.. cause this drives me batty. We have 4 children for crying out loud... why aren't they taking enough out of his check to pay the dang taxes?

Pillowcase Unicorn

Well, it probably took me about 6 hours to make her. I'm not sure if I wound up spending less than $20 on her or not, had I purchased everything at one time for her creation. As it was, I used material that I already had around the house, so I didn't need to buy anything special for her at all.

She's all wrapped up and ready to go to her new home :) I can't wait to hear about Jo's reaction :)

The Watchful Eye of the Uninformed

Some days I hate being a parent. When you become a parent, your entire life becomes a specimine under the microscope of society- and everybody has their eyeball on you. The only 'safe' place is in your home; and even then you have neighbors who can possibly hear you and/or your child- so God forbid either one of you screams.

EVERYTHING you do is judged.
Beware the funny pictures of your 14 month old passed out in his exersaucer with a spread of half gnawed, fully slobbered Cheetos laid out in front of him- for you will be judged for it.
Be cautious of how many friends you have over throughout the period of a week, lest you be labeled.
Don't show pictures of your child in a car seat, because SOMEONE is going to disagree with where or how you have it installed, and then someone ELSE will find something completely wrong with it.
Don't tell how you discipline, or THAT you discipline, because you will be looked at as abusive by at least one person.
Be sure you leave your children at home, drug your children, or bring ear plugs with you when you go to the grocery store- just be sure you don't tell anyone you've given your child Benadryl, or that you have ear plugs in, after all, shouldn't you be able to handle your children?
And for the love of GOD don't attempt to discipline, talk to, or threaten your child out in public. It doesn't matter what you say or how you say it, there's a chance you will be stopped and fussed at, and an even BETTER chance you'll be someone's post on Twitter.

Some things can be avoided, it's true. But the situations are different on a person to person, child to child basis. And you may or may not know the reason why you're seeing what you're seeing.
You may be one of these people- watching. Watching for other moms to mess up. Waiting for your chance to show off how much better of a mother you are, or would be if you had children.
Or maybe you're not, but you still take a second look when you see something maybe you don't or wouldn't do, and then you disapprove. And by disapprove, I mean judge.
Unfortunately it's in our nature to look at something we don't like or agree with and think, 'OMG I can't believe......'.

But you know what- we have no idea. We are clueless. We are uninformed.

Not everyone can be completely patient with their child 100% of every day. If you can, God bless you, but I can't. My children get on my nerves sometimes. My children make me angry sometimes. And others do too.
Children are not always well behaved, children don't always listen- it's part of growing up. And sometimes we get down to the last time we can possibly say "go pick up your toys" without yelling.
And maybe someone walks in on you yelling at your child. And instantly they scowl. But they have NO idea.
They don't know you've led your child by his hand for the last 3 hours encouraging him that he can do it, and giving him direction after direction, do they? Of course not, they just walked in and you're screaming.

And maybe you don't know that the 14 month old passed out in his exersaucer has been fighting his nap for the last 2 hours and his mother hasn't been able to get a thing done for being tugged on, screamed at, cried to and made to drop everything she is doing to go back and forth from trying to get something accomplished to putting the toddler back in bed. You don't know that she's tried everything she can think of to get him to just calm down and take his nap, but he still refuses! So finally, in a desperate attempt to do whatever it is she needs to get done, she puts him in his saucer with some Cheetos so that he is in eye sight, contained, and happy. And finally he succumbs to exhaustion and passes out. I know I certainly would NOT be attempting to move that child. Unless some part of his body had circulation cut off, he would nap there and that would be a triumph! And how funny is it that he did finally crash face first in a tray of cheesy snacks? And the picture is shared on Facebook. And you look. And you scowl. Because all you see is that second. That flash of a moment in time when a 14 month old fell asleep in an exersaucer after his mother fed him something as horrible as Cheetos. You have no idea what just took place the last 2 hours. NONE. So while you say, "How dare she?" I say, "How dare YOU?".
This is the same scenario at the grocery store. For hours you've attempted to get your shopping done. You have your list, you've waited til payday, you pack your child/ren up and take them to the store with you. After endless hours of piling your cart high and fighting with your toddler to behave, you can't take anymore. You're sweaty, the cart is heavy, and your child, who has done nothing but argue, fight, attack, bite, grab, run, scream, hit, and throw fits because he doesn't get what he wants, for the last 5 aisles (AKA 2 hours) finally pushes you to your breaking point. So you stop in the middle of the aisle and get your face close to his and tell him through gritted teeth that when he gets home he is getting a spanking and going directly to bed! And to just be QUIET the rest of the trip or he will not get to play with his toys all day tomorrow.
And you uninformed people.... you judgemental know it all's. You have NO idea. You see the last desperate attempt of a mother to get her chore done and get out of that place and go home, and you just can't stop yourself from opening your mouth and bashing that mother. And again, I say, "How dare you?" Dare I say, "Shut up and mind your business." Because you are clueless.

And maybe you have an amazing group of friends that you consider family, and they love to come over and help you out and spend time with your child. Maybe you have a secret illness or mild disability that makes it hard on you to move a whole lot sometimes. Does it make you a bad mother that you're not 100% mentally or physically well? Does it mean you're incapable because you can't do it by yourself 100% of the time? Absolutely NOT. Being a parent is hard. And we, as mothers, take from ourselves to give to our children. We deprive ourselves of rest, food, material items, health care, and sanity- all for the sake of the betterment of our children. So an onlooking neighbor, who is uninformed, has NO business thinking anything of how many cars come and go.

Or perhaps you have to give your child an appropriate dosage of Benadryl to get through the store peacefully? Perhaps you don't brush her hair or change her out of her play clothes to go buy food. Maybe you're gasping at the thought! But you are uninformed. You don't know that the child is autistic. You don't know how she reacts to busy crowds without being slightly drowsy. You don't know how she screams and cries and hits and bites when you try to brush her hair. Or how she howls like a banshee and runs and hides at the mere sight of you pulling out a fresh dress for her to change into. So instead of fighting- LITERALLY fighting this poor child who would be happy to go with you if you'd just leave her alone, you give in and take her out looking scruffy and mismatched. And you, as her mother, KNOW how she literally screams at the top of her lungs and hits herself in the head, and pulls her hair out, and bites and hits YOU when you even pull in to the parking lot at the grocery store. Yet you have no one to watch her so you can go- and why is that? Because when you take her to someone else's house, or attempt to walk out the door while someone else is in your house she runs to the corner and curls up into a little ball screaming "MOMMY, MOMMY, MOMMY" banging her head on the wall and crying until she passes out. And yet someone would dare judge you for giving her a small teaspoon of an over the counter medication whose side effect is drowsiness just so you can get in and out without you or her losing clumps of hair.

So be careful parents.
The watchful eye of the uninformed is everywhere. You're a parent now, and they're certainly paying attention to YOU.

Obituary

This post has been several days in the making. Hopefully that won't mean it turns out to be a novel, but if it does, dear reader, know that what you're reading is heartfelt and genuine- not just fluff.

I'd like to start with a story about a man. This man was, for the majority of his life, a munitions manufacturer- meaning he made guns. This was his job, it was what he was good at. It was not WHO he was. He was a scientist. He actually invented dynamite.

One day his brother passed away. The news got out and it was to be reported in the newspapers. One of the newspapers ran the story, but mistakenly heard that it was this man who had died, not his brother. Which gave this man a rare opportunity- he was able to read his obituary while still alive.
He hated what he read. The obituary told about how he was the father of death; it described him as the man who made it possible to kill more people more quickly than anyone else had ever been able to.

That was not what he wanted to be remembered for.
This glimpse at how the world saw him gave him the perfect opportunity to change. He became a humanitarian, and encouraged ideas for the betterment of society. And to honor those ideas, he created The Nobel Peace Prize, named after himself.

Now doesn't that make you think? Does that not make you stop and look at your own life and wonder- what will I be remembered for? How do people see you now? What things have you done that they will remember about you? Will you be remembered at all? Will your family mourn your passing and think of what a blessing it was to have you in their life? Or will they only remember the things you accomplished- your job?

What do you think your obituary would say about you if you died today?
Is that what you WANT it to say?
If it isn't- what DO you want it to say? What pieces of you would you want printed in black and white to be the last article of information people will have about you?
And lastly- how will you go about changing yourself to be who you want your obituary to say you were?

I had an idea to ask random friends to send me a letter that they would write me if they knew I was dying tomorrow- just to see what they would say about me, if anything. Unfortunately, aside from feeling uncomfortably egotistical, I wasn't sure their responses would be bare-bones truthful, after all, I'm NOT dying tomorrow- or hopefully for a long time now, so they might be afraid if they said something hurtful I wouldn't be their friend anymore. So I opted not to go through with the test.
However, I'm still analyzing myself and my life, trying to figure out what I believe would be said about me. What parts of me do I KNOW stick out like thorns on a rose bush? Do I need to prune those parts back, or feed them Miracle Grow? Perhaps I need the help of an experienced, and professional gardener to aid in my pruning. Perhaps I need God to feed me Miracle Grow.

Life isn't just about living day to day, surviving through it. It's not about going on and on day to day doing the same thing over and over until you die. At least, that's not what I believe.
I believe each and every one of us is here for a reason. I believe from the billionaire on Wall Street, to the crack head under the 65 bridge, and everyone in between, that we all have a reason to be. And because I am a Christan, I believe God gives us purpose. Not everyone is going to succeed- but if it weren't for others' failures, how would anyone learn anything? Your purpose may not be to invent the next greatest thing. Your purpose may be to fail 1000 times so that someone else can learn from your mistakes and do it right. While you may lose the human glory that comes along with the success, you've served your purpose for God, and to me, that's way more important.
Just because we only live 100 or less years and we're striving for Heaven in the afterlife doesn't mean God didn't want us to do SOMETHING here on Earth.

So think about what you might have in your obituary now, and think about what you WANT to be in it. Then act. Make goals to achieve; goals that will get you to where you want to be.
You may not be as remembered as Alfred Nobel, but your significant other, brothers, sisters, parents, children, grandchildren- whoever it is you leave behind, they will remember you. What will they remember you for?