Today was a good day. It was really really good. I got up and got ready for church, thinking it would be cool to put some curls in my hair. Now curls are NOT a bad idea...but they just didn't pan out the way I had hoped and I came off looking like Bozo's lost cousin. Unfortunately it was time to head out the door to Praise Team practice and so off I went, curls bouncing along and seemingly wanting to attack my face. Mom said that the curls looked good ... that they were fine. Then I'd look at her and she'd collapse into a fit of giggles. She swore it was the look on my face...but the curls are the reason for the look on my face, so I figure it's all connected, right? The curls are to blame. So I grab my sun glasses and kind of maneuver them up on top of my head like a head-band of sorts and into the church I went. No one on praise team laughed at me. Yay them! So practice was over and Mom and I headed out for breakfast during the Sunday School hour because I'd taken too long with curls to mess with eating. There we sat in Dunkin' Donuts when Mom was overcome with another fit of giggles. There was nothing to do but head for home and go for some damage control. So we did. And amazingly enough, it worked. Sometimes I try to "fix" hair-gone-wrong and it backfires. Today worked out, though.
But enough of that. At church we were told that there would be no Praise Team practice this evening, as is the usual on every other Sunday night. It was cancelled for preparation for VBS. So a couple of us on the praise team were talking it over and, long-story-short, I ended up volunteering for everyone to come to my house for a social in lieu of practice.
So Mom and I came home after church service and cleaned and cleaned and cleaned and cleaned and cleaned. And did I mention we cleaned? But you know what? My house was actually in decent shape for company when they all arrived. I will ALWAYS be one whose house has signs of "life" in it. I'll never live in a show case. But it was in good shape. That always makes me feel good. I don't even care that I would not open the door of my bedroom because of the fright that was inside there. Doesn't matter, because the "public" portions of my house were goood.
And now the whole reason for my blog tonight. You're wondering when my eyes popped out of my head, aren't you? Well, here we go. When we got home from church I went into my bedroom to change into clothes so I can really have a go at the cleaning. (Now there's a scary lead-in, no?) I put on a shirt and grab my long black shorts. I tried putting them on and it was no easy task. Yes, I got them up, but it was like being in a movie. I laid back on the bed to make my tummy flat enough to fasten the dang thangs. I've been weighing myself off and on the past few weeks and my weight has been hovering at 115...which is about my norm. After I got the shorts on I walked out to the dining room where my scale happens to be. Why? I don't know, but it's there. My dining room and living room have no wall between them, just different flooring. The dining room has hard ceramic tile...which, by the way, is incredibly slippery when wet. The living room has carpet. Well the scale had been pushed over onto the carpet and, not thinking about that fact, I step onto the scale. I glance down, looking toward the scale reading, but not really thinking yet, because I'm waiting for it to stop moving. The scale slows and stops at 180 pounds. 180!?!?! THAT's when my eyes popped out of my head. Then in that split second I realized that my scale was on carpet instead of on a hard surface. Whew! I was wondering how I could gain 65 pounds without noticing! I moved it back onto the ceramic tile and got a much better reading, lol. Higher than normal but compared to 180 it was wholly acceptable.
Praise team friends came over and we ate yummy cake and did a lot of laughing.
A good day.
Sunday, August 9, 2009
Monday, July 27, 2009
Where'd You Get an Idea Like That?
Obsessive? Me?? Well, I guess that depends on how you define obsessive. I KNOW what obsessive means but you know, sometimes you're not sure how to put it into words...into black-and-white, so to speak, so I looked it up and found that an obsession is "the domination of one's thoughts or feelings by a persistent idea, image, desire, etc." If that's how YOU define it, then the answer is yes.
I know that's shocking for those of you who know me and have known me for any length of time, particularly through my "Wiggles" years. "Mimismum", the quiet one who always left you guessing just where her loyalties lied...laid...lay??? (NEVER mastered that verb.)
Lately my obsession is still here at my keyboard...in facebook. Facebook "hooked" me because it's SO awesome to reconnect with people from the past...and connect with friends and family who live so far away. You guys know. You get that, right? So THAT isn't a problem. What's a problem is those darn games! TOTALLY useless. (You should see my farm in Farm Town, though.) TOTAL wastes of time. (Have you seen my high score in Brick Breaking?!) TOTALLY frustrating. (WHY is there no REAL way to guarantee a good game in Bejewelled???) Yet there's just a bit of challenge there that keeps me going back and wasting time. And there's my nice slow heartbeat from sitting here with eyes glazed over from playing just "one" more game. That nice slow heartbeat that makes you think it's not necessary to ever get off your back side and do anything.
Paints a pretty picture, doesn't it?
Well, tonight I was just getting onto one of my cyber-farms when my mom asked if I'd gotten "that mail from the mailbox." Well, yesterday I "bought" a mailbox for that farm so I got all excited and asked/exclaimed, "YOU CAN GET MAIL IN THE MAILBOX!!!??" After a bit of confusion, she clarified that she was referring to the mailbox right here in the REAL world..not the virtual one. I had to laugh at myself...and at the same time thought, "Who's obsessive???!"
Before the internet became popular books were my obsession...and I miss them. I've been reading the same book for a few months. I used to finish one in a matter of a few days. Books were my obsession for sooooo long that I don't remember a prior obession...unless Winnie-the-Pooh counts (which he TOTALLY does.)
I know many of you (well, I suppose I'm playing it a little loose with the word "man"...all 3 of you who may read this) may think that rambling is an obsession of mine, too, based on the way I've been writing lately. Rambling with very few points to be made...or just not knowing where I'm going when I start writing and not knowing how to stop. But..I'm not going to let that stop me for now because I want to get going and writing more again...so if you bear with me long enough to read these, I apologize and I thank you for being here. Better days ahead, I hope....
I know that's shocking for those of you who know me and have known me for any length of time, particularly through my "Wiggles" years. "Mimismum", the quiet one who always left you guessing just where her loyalties lied...laid...lay??? (NEVER mastered that verb.)
Lately my obsession is still here at my keyboard...in facebook. Facebook "hooked" me because it's SO awesome to reconnect with people from the past...and connect with friends and family who live so far away. You guys know. You get that, right? So THAT isn't a problem. What's a problem is those darn games! TOTALLY useless. (You should see my farm in Farm Town, though.) TOTAL wastes of time. (Have you seen my high score in Brick Breaking?!) TOTALLY frustrating. (WHY is there no REAL way to guarantee a good game in Bejewelled???) Yet there's just a bit of challenge there that keeps me going back and wasting time. And there's my nice slow heartbeat from sitting here with eyes glazed over from playing just "one" more game. That nice slow heartbeat that makes you think it's not necessary to ever get off your back side and do anything.
Paints a pretty picture, doesn't it?
Well, tonight I was just getting onto one of my cyber-farms when my mom asked if I'd gotten "that mail from the mailbox." Well, yesterday I "bought" a mailbox for that farm so I got all excited and asked/exclaimed, "YOU CAN GET MAIL IN THE MAILBOX!!!??" After a bit of confusion, she clarified that she was referring to the mailbox right here in the REAL world..not the virtual one. I had to laugh at myself...and at the same time thought, "Who's obsessive???!"
Before the internet became popular books were my obsession...and I miss them. I've been reading the same book for a few months. I used to finish one in a matter of a few days. Books were my obsession for sooooo long that I don't remember a prior obession...unless Winnie-the-Pooh counts (which he TOTALLY does.)
I know many of you (well, I suppose I'm playing it a little loose with the word "man"...all 3 of you who may read this) may think that rambling is an obsession of mine, too, based on the way I've been writing lately. Rambling with very few points to be made...or just not knowing where I'm going when I start writing and not knowing how to stop. But..I'm not going to let that stop me for now because I want to get going and writing more again...so if you bear with me long enough to read these, I apologize and I thank you for being here. Better days ahead, I hope....
Saturday, July 25, 2009
Moments
I love the little moments of life. There's some saying about that out there these days. Something like, "We don't remember days, we remember moments." Something like that, though most likely much more eloquently put. But the point's still there.
The moments. I love love LOVE the funny ones. Then there are the ones that are so sweet and full of love that you think you just might burst. And of course there are the ones where you think you'll blow that little vein near your temple if not your jugular from something that just cranks you off in a really bad way. I don't love the veiny moments, but they're there. I had one a couple days ago and at moments that gut-twisting feeling starts to stir again and I wonder how everything is going to work out. But enough of that. It's not what this little bloggy-blog-blog is about.
About a month and a half ago my mom moved in with us, at my request, to help me with an impossible schedule conflict between my work and the girls' school. Over the weeks she's been here we have had SO MANY of those laughing moments. The laugh-so-hard-you-cry laughs. The don't-say-anything-else-until-I-get-a-bathroom-break laughs. The you-oughta-be-committed-for-laughing-that-much laughs. They're awesome. And they're with my mom which makes it even more awesomer. And what's great is that so often they're things that if you told, people would look at you and listen as you told the story...then sit and just blink at you repeatedly, waiting for the funny part.
For example, tonight we're sitting here in the quiet of the evening. The girls are in bed. The dogs are laying on a blanket near me on the million-dollar-sofa looking like they've been hit by a car. And Mom and I are in our respective seats with laptops perched on our knees. I'm on the chaise at the end of the million-dollar-sofa and Mom is in the glider catty-cornered across the room. We're enjoying the quiet. I shift my leg and unwittingly knock some toy off the end of the sofa. It's light enough that I didn't even notice it touching my foot. BUT it happened to be this little gadget that shoots out of this pipe-sort-of-thing and shoots a polly that is strapped to it gliding off into the galaxy...or the living room. So we're sitting there quietly when suddenly FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFWUP! out shoots the glider and scares the LMNOP out of us as it shoots past Mom's legs!
Now see? You're probably sitting there blinking, aren't you? Waiting for real hilarity? I laughed until I couldn't breathe, people! I mean...I'm a rising comedian's dream audience, I guess.
But isn't that really how it works? The really good stuff is the simple stuff, right? The polly aircraft seemingly spontaneously flying through the room. The dog doing a headstand when you try to rub her nose in ... well ... her business (yes my yorkie does that and I laugh everytime...push her head toward the offense and she can get her rump up in the air nearly to a 90-degree angle, lol). Simple, no-account moments. But the good lovey moments are like that, too, aren't they? Like when your tweenie comes running back to give you one more hug and kiss before she takes off with her friends? When your little girl says, "I just want to be WITH you, mama." Eye contact. A wink (oh that one sleighs, no?) Being told "it's okay." Simple, little things that make all the difference in the world.
I don't know that I have a point to make in all of this. Guess I just wanted to say that I love the little moments. I do.
A few of my moments...
WAIT! How did THAT get in here???? Ah well, no harm done. None at all.......
Help. I can't breathe. Neither can Mom. lol
The moments. I love love LOVE the funny ones. Then there are the ones that are so sweet and full of love that you think you just might burst. And of course there are the ones where you think you'll blow that little vein near your temple if not your jugular from something that just cranks you off in a really bad way. I don't love the veiny moments, but they're there. I had one a couple days ago and at moments that gut-twisting feeling starts to stir again and I wonder how everything is going to work out. But enough of that. It's not what this little bloggy-blog-blog is about.
About a month and a half ago my mom moved in with us, at my request, to help me with an impossible schedule conflict between my work and the girls' school. Over the weeks she's been here we have had SO MANY of those laughing moments. The laugh-so-hard-you-cry laughs. The don't-say-anything-else-until-I-get-a-bathroom-break laughs. The you-oughta-be-committed-for-laughing-that-much laughs. They're awesome. And they're with my mom which makes it even more awesomer. And what's great is that so often they're things that if you told, people would look at you and listen as you told the story...then sit and just blink at you repeatedly, waiting for the funny part.
For example, tonight we're sitting here in the quiet of the evening. The girls are in bed. The dogs are laying on a blanket near me on the million-dollar-sofa looking like they've been hit by a car. And Mom and I are in our respective seats with laptops perched on our knees. I'm on the chaise at the end of the million-dollar-sofa and Mom is in the glider catty-cornered across the room. We're enjoying the quiet. I shift my leg and unwittingly knock some toy off the end of the sofa. It's light enough that I didn't even notice it touching my foot. BUT it happened to be this little gadget that shoots out of this pipe-sort-of-thing and shoots a polly that is strapped to it gliding off into the galaxy...or the living room. So we're sitting there quietly when suddenly FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFWUP! out shoots the glider and scares the LMNOP out of us as it shoots past Mom's legs!
Now see? You're probably sitting there blinking, aren't you? Waiting for real hilarity? I laughed until I couldn't breathe, people! I mean...I'm a rising comedian's dream audience, I guess.
But isn't that really how it works? The really good stuff is the simple stuff, right? The polly aircraft seemingly spontaneously flying through the room. The dog doing a headstand when you try to rub her nose in ... well ... her business (yes my yorkie does that and I laugh everytime...push her head toward the offense and she can get her rump up in the air nearly to a 90-degree angle, lol). Simple, no-account moments. But the good lovey moments are like that, too, aren't they? Like when your tweenie comes running back to give you one more hug and kiss before she takes off with her friends? When your little girl says, "I just want to be WITH you, mama." Eye contact. A wink (oh that one sleighs, no?) Being told "it's okay." Simple, little things that make all the difference in the world.
I don't know that I have a point to make in all of this. Guess I just wanted to say that I love the little moments. I do.
A few of my moments...
WAIT! How did THAT get in here???? Ah well, no harm done. None at all.......Help. I can't breathe. Neither can Mom. lol
Thursday, July 23, 2009
Famous Firsts
Ok, maybe not so "famous," but a first anyway. I guess instead of writing about it, I should be ashamed, but be it as it may, tomorrow will be a first for me.
A couple days ago I told my girls to each invite a friend to go to the movies with us tomorrow and to spend the night at our house. I've NEVER had my girls invite anyone over. I've been a lazy mama. I've been ... apprehensive. I've been ... a dud.
But tomorrow we're doing it. We're going to see G-Force and then they're spending the day playing together...and one of them is staying over for the night.
It doesn't make for much of a blog...but I've got to get started again. (I've been saying that for waaaaay too long.)
A couple days ago I told my girls to each invite a friend to go to the movies with us tomorrow and to spend the night at our house. I've NEVER had my girls invite anyone over. I've been a lazy mama. I've been ... apprehensive. I've been ... a dud.
But tomorrow we're doing it. We're going to see G-Force and then they're spending the day playing together...and one of them is staying over for the night.
It doesn't make for much of a blog...but I've got to get started again. (I've been saying that for waaaaay too long.)
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Megan's birthday
Eleven years ago today, I gave birth to the most perfect little person I had ever laid eyes on. And for eleven years I have watched her grow. There have been tears. There has been laughter. There have been make-overs. There have been messes. There have been...snail documentaries(...which you can see here.) There have been gymnastics performances. There have been awards ceremonies. And there have been many, many, many, many smiles. Those smiles light up my life.
Dressing up in style....
A little music...
A little ham with cheese...
Sleepy but happy...
Goofy grin...
A little lippy...
First tooth gone...
Scary!
A beautiful princess...
Christmas program...
Love her laugh...
Her baptism...
Got a 4 on her FCAT in Math!
Only one in her classroom to get a 5 on the FCAT in Reading!!
Christmas gymnastics recital...
Stylin' once again...
She's great at giving makeovers. Anyone interested???
Sleepy girl...
More laughter... (One of my favorite photos!)
Happy birthday, Mimi-girl. I love you!
Dressing up in style....
A little music...
A little ham with cheese...
Sleepy but happy...
Goofy grin...
A little lippy...
First tooth gone...
Scary!
A beautiful princess...
Christmas program...
Love her laugh...
Her baptism...
Got a 4 on her FCAT in Math!
Only one in her classroom to get a 5 on the FCAT in Reading!!
Christmas gymnastics recital...
Stylin' once again...
She's great at giving makeovers. Anyone interested???
Sleepy girl...
More laughter... (One of my favorite photos!)
Happy birthday, Mimi-girl. I love you!
Saturday, July 4, 2009
Independence Day
Today is the Fourth of July, a holiday packed with meaning for those of us here in the United States...just as those of you in other nations have your patriotic days you observe. And THIS fourth has got me to thinking.
I was just outside with my Yorkie-baby, Ceci, and the fireworks have begun. It's a fairly noisy place outside right now...okay, and inside, too. I was mindful of how the noise affects my dogs...which sounds funny, I guess, but that's what I was thinking of. Ceci was oblivious to the noise. Pooh, so far, has been fairly chilled about it, too, aside from an occasionally REALLY loud one that startles him. But anyway, as I was thinking about it, I thought of how odd it was to be able to just tune out the noise. But then I realized that the reason it was so easy was because it isn't a threat and because I know it's a celebratory thing. And that turned my thoughts yet again. This time I wondered...what must it be like...how awful it must be...to be either a soldier or a civilian in a war zone...hearing similar sounds and worse all around you...all the time...and knowing that not only are the sources of the noise a threat to you and those around you...but that more than likely there are people being hurt and even killed when you hear those sounds.
The price that has been paid for our freedom...for our ways of life...is monumental. And yet we as a people can be so "you owe me!"-minded...rather than humbled by the sacrifices made for us.
I don't know what all I'd like to say in this blog tonight. I don't know exactly where I was headed. But I am thankful and saddened by the many lives lost in the history of our nation so that I can enjoy the freedoms that I do.
So to all of you in uniform...to all of you married to those in uniform...to all of you whose parents have served...whose grandfathers and uncles and brothers have served...thank you...and may God bless you.
To those of you serving now, may God keep you and protect you.
And to my own grandfather...who I never met, but who gave up his own life in the Battle of the Bulge...thank you...and may you rest in peace.
Happy Independence Day, everyone.
I was just outside with my Yorkie-baby, Ceci, and the fireworks have begun. It's a fairly noisy place outside right now...okay, and inside, too. I was mindful of how the noise affects my dogs...which sounds funny, I guess, but that's what I was thinking of. Ceci was oblivious to the noise. Pooh, so far, has been fairly chilled about it, too, aside from an occasionally REALLY loud one that startles him. But anyway, as I was thinking about it, I thought of how odd it was to be able to just tune out the noise. But then I realized that the reason it was so easy was because it isn't a threat and because I know it's a celebratory thing. And that turned my thoughts yet again. This time I wondered...what must it be like...how awful it must be...to be either a soldier or a civilian in a war zone...hearing similar sounds and worse all around you...all the time...and knowing that not only are the sources of the noise a threat to you and those around you...but that more than likely there are people being hurt and even killed when you hear those sounds.
The price that has been paid for our freedom...for our ways of life...is monumental. And yet we as a people can be so "you owe me!"-minded...rather than humbled by the sacrifices made for us.
I don't know what all I'd like to say in this blog tonight. I don't know exactly where I was headed. But I am thankful and saddened by the many lives lost in the history of our nation so that I can enjoy the freedoms that I do.
So to all of you in uniform...to all of you married to those in uniform...to all of you whose parents have served...whose grandfathers and uncles and brothers have served...thank you...and may God bless you.
To those of you serving now, may God keep you and protect you.
And to my own grandfather...who I never met, but who gave up his own life in the Battle of the Bulge...thank you...and may you rest in peace.
Happy Independence Day, everyone.
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Puppy, Parvo, Parenting and Praise
For what seems like forever, my girls and I have been dreaming of getting a teacup Yorkie. Alli has googled "teacup Yorkie" and searched the internet thoroughly on more than one occasion so that when we saved up the money we could find a puppy to make our own.
Well, for what also seemed like forever, I worked at getting my National Board Certification from the National Board for Professional Teaching Standards. That was no joy ride, people. I hated every step of the way...and did a lot of whining about it But I really wanted to achieve it so I could get the yearly bonus. Such noble motivation, lol. Seriously, though, the process was rigorous and that would have been fine IF it had actually taught me something that made me a better teacher, but all it did was get me the piece of paper and the yearly bonus (provided the state has the funds for the bonus each year.)
This year the state almost didn't give us the bonus but in the end did dispense the bonuses to those who had the certification. I was one happy camper, I kid you not. And while there were plenty of places that I could use the money in a very practical way, I had told myself that when I got my bonus the first time I was splurging. The original plan was a trip to Australia. A solo trip to Australia, no less. To Sydney, to be exact. That trip was the motivator when I was whining through the process of writing up my National Board portfolio.
Payday came. But just a few days before that, my youngest pointed out to me that since I was getting my bonus we could finally get our teacup Yorkie. At that point I could hardly say, "Sorry, I'm going to Australia. You'll have to wait another year." Nope, couldn't do that. It only seemed right that if I were going to splurge, I should splurge on something for the whole family. So we started searching out puppies. We finally found one and made the purchase in early May. Ohhhhh the long weeks waiting to actually get her. She was 6 weeks old when we bought her. We scheduled for my mom to pick her up on her way driving through Missouri as she made the move to live with us here in Florida. It was five long weeks before she and the puppy showed up on our door. (You should have heard the screams, lol.)
We named our sweet little baby (Kristen, I CAN call her a baby because, you see, this is MY blog!)...we named her Cecilia Grace. We call her Ceci for short. "Cecilia" is after my dad, "Cecil," and "Grace" is similar to my girls' middle names, "Hope" and "Faith." I know, a lot of name for just a little dog, but all our pets get middle names. It's the way we roll 'round here. Ok, I didn't give the guinea pigs middle names because just between you and me, I don't really give a rip. They're rodents. I'll take good care of them, but forget about any terms of endearment.
When Ceci came we all marveled at how sweet and how docile she was. Such a calm little sweetheart. Even at night, as I'd tuck her in her kennel to sleep, she'd go peacefully and would only whine when she needed to go out. I was amazed at just how easy she was to handle. Well, she arrived on a Wednesday evening...and three short days later we began to learn why she was so docile. She'd had some "digestive problems" (I'll avoid being too graphic here.) On Saturday she refused to eat and by mid-afternoon we became pretty concerned. Tiny dogs can have problems with hypoglycemia and we worried at how long she'd gone without eating. And by mid-afternoon she'd lost interest in her water, too. So we made the decision and headed for the Animal ER.
I've always been one to think that it's rather ridiculous to go to great expense for medical care for a pet. I haven't really understood. I KNOW pets have a special place in our hearts, but money being hard to come by, I've kind of scoffed at it...though never to a person who has spent a lot on medical care for their pet. I've just thought along those lines in my head. Well, I learned a big lesson. I'm glad I had no words to eat, because WOW I'd have had a buffet! We went in to the Animal ER thinking that the problems she had were related to being car sick on the way traveling from Missouri to Florida and that her system was just out of whack. We figured they'd give us some sort of electrolyte stuff and we'd head home and that would be that.
We were wrong.
They ran a few tests and came back, telling us that her test for the parvovirus came back VERY strong. It was like a death nell in my head. I swear it. I thought we would lose the little baby dog we'd been waiting to get for so long.
Well, long story short...or long story not even longer...she spent two days at the Animal ER, then got transferred to our "family vet" hospital where she stayed four more days on IV fluids, antibiotics, med for nausea, and morphine. She was one sick little puppy.
Finally on Wednesday we were given some hope and on Thursday she began to eat a bit. So Thursday afternoon she came home. It was still rather tough for a few days trying to get much food down her, but now she's eating great, barking with sass, and then she snuggles up close and starts giving you these sweet little puppy kisses with intermittent BITES, lol. Yeah that's a great way to wake up, lol.
Our sweet quiet little docile puppy is a little bit of a fireball. And she is adored by us all. She's a sweet cuddler once she gets tired and loves being with her people.
So let's see, that takes care of "Puppy" and "Parvo" in my title. As for the "Parenting," when I threw that into the title I was just thinking about when we admitted Ceci into the hospital. Like I said, I used to scoff a bit at people taking extreme measures with their pets, but honestly, with two little girls whose little hearts would absolutely break if their puppy were gone, there was nothing else I could have done. (And between you and me, I'm glad I had them to help me justify the expense to myself, too.) I hope I don't sound inhumane. I wouldn't want an animal to suffer ever. It's just hard sometimes to justify a lot of money going to animals when family expenses are tough enough to handle.
And so that brings us to the final P..."Praise." I seriously praise God for answered prayers for Ceci. She is such a wonderful addition to our family and I'm so glad she's pulled through. I know some of you prayed for her and I'm thankful to you, too.
I've got to get back in the swing of blogging. No good form, just rambling it seems right now. So I'll close with a photo of our little baby.
Well, for what also seemed like forever, I worked at getting my National Board Certification from the National Board for Professional Teaching Standards. That was no joy ride, people. I hated every step of the way...and did a lot of whining about it But I really wanted to achieve it so I could get the yearly bonus. Such noble motivation, lol. Seriously, though, the process was rigorous and that would have been fine IF it had actually taught me something that made me a better teacher, but all it did was get me the piece of paper and the yearly bonus (provided the state has the funds for the bonus each year.)
This year the state almost didn't give us the bonus but in the end did dispense the bonuses to those who had the certification. I was one happy camper, I kid you not. And while there were plenty of places that I could use the money in a very practical way, I had told myself that when I got my bonus the first time I was splurging. The original plan was a trip to Australia. A solo trip to Australia, no less. To Sydney, to be exact. That trip was the motivator when I was whining through the process of writing up my National Board portfolio.
Payday came. But just a few days before that, my youngest pointed out to me that since I was getting my bonus we could finally get our teacup Yorkie. At that point I could hardly say, "Sorry, I'm going to Australia. You'll have to wait another year." Nope, couldn't do that. It only seemed right that if I were going to splurge, I should splurge on something for the whole family. So we started searching out puppies. We finally found one and made the purchase in early May. Ohhhhh the long weeks waiting to actually get her. She was 6 weeks old when we bought her. We scheduled for my mom to pick her up on her way driving through Missouri as she made the move to live with us here in Florida. It was five long weeks before she and the puppy showed up on our door. (You should have heard the screams, lol.)
We named our sweet little baby (Kristen, I CAN call her a baby because, you see, this is MY blog!)...we named her Cecilia Grace. We call her Ceci for short. "Cecilia" is after my dad, "Cecil," and "Grace" is similar to my girls' middle names, "Hope" and "Faith." I know, a lot of name for just a little dog, but all our pets get middle names. It's the way we roll 'round here. Ok, I didn't give the guinea pigs middle names because just between you and me, I don't really give a rip. They're rodents. I'll take good care of them, but forget about any terms of endearment.
When Ceci came we all marveled at how sweet and how docile she was. Such a calm little sweetheart. Even at night, as I'd tuck her in her kennel to sleep, she'd go peacefully and would only whine when she needed to go out. I was amazed at just how easy she was to handle. Well, she arrived on a Wednesday evening...and three short days later we began to learn why she was so docile. She'd had some "digestive problems" (I'll avoid being too graphic here.) On Saturday she refused to eat and by mid-afternoon we became pretty concerned. Tiny dogs can have problems with hypoglycemia and we worried at how long she'd gone without eating. And by mid-afternoon she'd lost interest in her water, too. So we made the decision and headed for the Animal ER.
I've always been one to think that it's rather ridiculous to go to great expense for medical care for a pet. I haven't really understood. I KNOW pets have a special place in our hearts, but money being hard to come by, I've kind of scoffed at it...though never to a person who has spent a lot on medical care for their pet. I've just thought along those lines in my head. Well, I learned a big lesson. I'm glad I had no words to eat, because WOW I'd have had a buffet! We went in to the Animal ER thinking that the problems she had were related to being car sick on the way traveling from Missouri to Florida and that her system was just out of whack. We figured they'd give us some sort of electrolyte stuff and we'd head home and that would be that.
We were wrong.
They ran a few tests and came back, telling us that her test for the parvovirus came back VERY strong. It was like a death nell in my head. I swear it. I thought we would lose the little baby dog we'd been waiting to get for so long.
Well, long story short...or long story not even longer...she spent two days at the Animal ER, then got transferred to our "family vet" hospital where she stayed four more days on IV fluids, antibiotics, med for nausea, and morphine. She was one sick little puppy.
Finally on Wednesday we were given some hope and on Thursday she began to eat a bit. So Thursday afternoon she came home. It was still rather tough for a few days trying to get much food down her, but now she's eating great, barking with sass, and then she snuggles up close and starts giving you these sweet little puppy kisses with intermittent BITES, lol. Yeah that's a great way to wake up, lol.
Our sweet quiet little docile puppy is a little bit of a fireball. And she is adored by us all. She's a sweet cuddler once she gets tired and loves being with her people.
So let's see, that takes care of "Puppy" and "Parvo" in my title. As for the "Parenting," when I threw that into the title I was just thinking about when we admitted Ceci into the hospital. Like I said, I used to scoff a bit at people taking extreme measures with their pets, but honestly, with two little girls whose little hearts would absolutely break if their puppy were gone, there was nothing else I could have done. (And between you and me, I'm glad I had them to help me justify the expense to myself, too.) I hope I don't sound inhumane. I wouldn't want an animal to suffer ever. It's just hard sometimes to justify a lot of money going to animals when family expenses are tough enough to handle.
And so that brings us to the final P..."Praise." I seriously praise God for answered prayers for Ceci. She is such a wonderful addition to our family and I'm so glad she's pulled through. I know some of you prayed for her and I'm thankful to you, too.
I've got to get back in the swing of blogging. No good form, just rambling it seems right now. So I'll close with a photo of our little baby.
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