It's not so bad...

Just ask the dogs. ;)  

Oh gosh, and speaking of dogs, you all haven't met Bowie, our latest foster.  Yes, he is almost alarmingly similar to Paisley:  lots of white and pink on his face, a more faded brindle, and one blue eye, one green, as opposed to Paisley's one blue, one brown.

And look at what the poor boy has to deal with around here!  Not only are dogs through our house toddler-tested, and cat-tested, and at least marginally dog-tested, but they are J tested too, and I can't think of any better reassurance of their stability.  Try as I might, I just can't train it out of him. ;)

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THANK YOU everyone for your support as our family is going through a difficult time.  It truly means the world to me and is a great comfort to know people are loving and kind at a time when it is sometimes hard to focus on the bright side.  

A soft rain is falling, and my Bugga is oh-so-snuggly lately, so I think it is time for books, blankets, and cuddles.  A perfect rainy day if ever there was one. =)

a new reality

The tears began to flow as I hit the interstate on-ramp.  Not 2 miles from home.  And before I knew it, my foot was firmly planted and I was speeding (yes, in the legal, or shall I say illegal, sense) down the interstate, tears streaming down my face.  Doing the exact opposite of what everyone said, and what everyone said was to "be careful."  

Indeed, I would not say speeding while crying is considered a careful act.

Why was I speeding?  What was my hurry?  

I had left my comfortable life--Jeremy, the Bug, the quadruped entertainment/snuggle troupe--and found myself rushing toward a new reality.

Speeding away from helplessness and toward almost certain pain.

Yet there I was and it seemed the uncertainty, fear, guilt, anger, hope, apprehension, and anticipation--along with a myriad of other nameless emotions--were weighing down that gas pedal as surely as my foot was.

Several miles later, I finally found equilibrium again, but it was fragile.  Tears proved to be my unrelenting companions today.  It was just like that.

I traveled today to meet my brother and pick up my Dad to come home and live with us for a while.  My Dad is an alcoholic, with rapidly failing health.  Those 2 factors are so enmeshed I'm sure no one could untangle them.  This is my family.  And this is our last ditch effort to get our Dad healthy.  I'm clinging to a hope that he is still there--beneath the addiction, beneath the loneliness and sadness of the past several years.  I'm just hoping to see a glimmer of the man I grew up with, the guy I once thought knew everything (don't all daughters think that of their fathers at some point?).

In a perfect world, he would be in a residential treatment setting.  It is where he needs to be, and we hope in the future he still might go.  Because truth be told, I don't know squat about addiction and coming down from your demons.  Oh I've been around it my whole life and I'm no angel myself.  I have my bad habits certainly, like picking my lips and spending too much time on the computer (love you macbook, missed you today).  But that's just what they are, they are habits, not addictions.  And I'm essentially clueless as to what the future will hold, particularly the next few days.  Dad's first days of sobriety.  A chance to see what might be left when his relentless companion is gone.  

It is worth mentioning that my brother got him through day 1 and most of day 2.  That my brother has been enduring a lot being the most easily accessible child, living in the same town, seeing firsthand the ups and downs, and how each down seemed just a bit farther down than the one before it.  Until we got to where we are now, just shy of that ubiquitous "rock bottom" you always hear people talk about.  Or maybe this is "rock bottom," who really knows?  Maybe it's one of those things you can only really see in retrospect.  I guess we'll find out.

Tonight, somehow, all feels peaceful.  I'm fairly certain all the other beings in the house are sleeping; something I surely should be doing too.  I don't know what tomorrow brings.  I don't know how long Dad will be with us, or if we'll be successful together in fighting this beast, or if things will be surprisingly easy, or surprisingly hard, or if I'll want to run screaming from the whole darn mess.  So much I don't know.  But if this peace proves fleeting--which I'm pretty much counting on--let me savor it now.  Let me shore up, because I know I'll need it.

My Friday Sweets

No, not anything I baked.  Though you can bet your bloomers I've been baking lots lately and consuming more than my fair share of chocolate.

Well, then again, I guess in another sense, I sure did bake this sweet. ;)

My Bugga man.  At lunch just now, he started to get down from his seat while in the middle of his left over bean burger.  Now, normally, I don't allow him to get down and flit around during meals, so normally I would have been all over the situation.  Alas, I'm kind of sick, Bug has been definitely sick, and something told me to wait a moment and see what he had up his sleeve.

And boy am I glad I did.

My little guy, sweet as chocolate pie (or a fruit pie, if you so choose), got down and moved his seat so that he was right next to Momma, touching my leg in fact, and crawled back up, pulled his plate over, and resumed his meal.

Talk about meltin' a Momma's heart.  =)  Yup, he sure melted my chocolate-clogged heart.

I'll be darned if that doesn't somehow make me want to bake some more.

Take that how you will.  ;)  

*Gosh, I am one ornery, ornery lady today.

Except...it's snow

Flakes the size of quarters.  I'm not April's foolin' you early either.

Okay, maybe a little bit of an exaggeration, but not much.  Really. ;)

*Picture just for illustration purposes, different snow, different day. Full disclosure.

Sunshine after the rain

I am posting something today that is a little different, a little bit down.  It's reality though, and I am not so self-involved to think for a second that I am alone when these feelings strike, though we can all feel that way from time to time.  Regardless, read at your own risk. ;)

I am happy to report I am feeling much more sunshine and rainbows about life lately.  I had hit a funk, and thankfully, I have an awesome hubby who, despite his own sleep-deprived challenges these days, helped walk me through that funk and back out the other side.  I just hope I have been able to do the same for him on his less-than-stellar days.  We should all be so lucky, right?!  

I'll share a pic or two to make it worth the visit today. ;)

Bugga and Papa sharing a drink of water. =)  And then sharing a smooch.

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Failure.  What a word.

Well, FAILBlog has been giving me some good chuckles lately, my new favorite for oft-innapropriate humor.  (Seriously, warning, some may find the humor in FAILBlog offensive; please refrain from judgment of what tickles my funny bone, thank you!)

And being involved in rescue, the term "foster failure" is one I know well.  Though, in reality, it isn't such a bad thing and I really think a new term needs to be coined for making a foster pet a member of your family permanently.

Back to the point:  failure.  It is term that keeps bouncing around in my head in recent days.  I debated internally for some time about whether or not to post any of this because really, no one likes a negative nellie.  But the fact remains, I've just been feeling like a failure lately.

Bugga is rapidly approaching his second birthday and for some reason, I am gripped with fear over whether or not he is "normal."  Why?  That is a great question.  Somehow, before now, I never really fretted over it.  I was never that uber-competitve Mom, comparing my child to other children, counting all the ways he was "advanced," or pushing him to do this thing or that just so I could say "hey, my baby {sat} or {walked} or {said "watermelon"}.  Not that I haven't thought my child is amazing and wonderful and everything most every parent thinks about their child. ;)  The knowledge that there is GREAT variation in how each individual develops kept worries at bay, and helped me to circumvent the need to play that game, the "my baby is better" game.

So now that he is almost 2, all that worry that I pushed aside and thought I had successfully avoided has suddenly chased me down, tackled me to the ground, and is biting my hind end ferociously.  There's an image, eh?!  

I still don't the know the why of it all.  All I know is that I can't stop wondering if I should be drilling things into my young son's brain--like colors, the alphabet, numbers, world geography, mechanical engineering, and maybe a little abnormal psych thrown in for good measure (okay, that last one I may just be able to provide his own personal case study...oy)--or if I should be letting his own natural curiosity soar and guide what he is learning for now.  My heart screams for the latter, but that outside pressure and internal war lead me toward the former. ={  Yet, when I try that, the "drilling," I end up in situations like yesterday, when I was trying to go over an alphabet book with him and every letter was "d," because he just really wanted to explore "d" at that moment.  Hmmm...maybe he was hinting at the whole "drilling" idea.  Never thought of it that way...

Why all the fuss?  And why NOW?  I wish I knew.  Bugga will be 2 years old soon.  Instead of being thankful for every moment with him, his good health, his every ability, skill, and trait that I adore, I am worrying over any possible way I may have failed him to this point.  What a waste!  And believe me, I know it, but it is gripping at the moment, despite my efforts to shake it.

Compounding all that fun, J is in the midst of 6 weeks of 12-hour shifts at work.  Olive, our current foster, is young, drive-y, and generally dislikes her crate, making any attempt at dog-free and child-free "quiet time" an utter joke.  Paisley is my good girl, keeping me sane in so many ways.  So I trudge on, attempting to see the bright side through the haze.  I know it's there, maybe if I squint....hmmm, not today.  Maybe when I wake up tomorrow.  We'll see.

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As I previously reported, I'm feeling much better.  Whew. ;)  It really was my own attitude that was tripping me up.  Don't you just hate it when that happens?  I'm back to being pleasantly entertained when Grady says every lego is "geeen" and all the numbers are 2.  It's alright.  I know from my interactions with him that he is just fine, that he understands so, so much and that what he "knows" now will not define his future.  

Annnyway.  Hmmm, what else?  Little Miss Olive looks to be competing with Timon for the title of "shortest-term foster dog."  She's been here 2 weeks, and she has 2 pretty great homes vying for her family member status, so she will probably be leaving us soon.  We feel so blessed to have had her with us, for any amount of time though!  

Of all our fosters, she is the most like our own Paisley girl. Not in looks of course, but in personality, in abilities, and also in challenges. ;) Even with her short stay, we have fallen quite hard for this little gal. I know, same story, 7th verse now, right?! We're already lining up our next foster too, so you'll get to hear the 8th verse as well. Lucky you! =)

Wordless Wednesday

{More from the hanging-dangerously-out-of-the-window series}

Okay, not quite wordless, but if you know, you know that's not quite possible. ;)

Just can't keep up...

Oh for goodness sakes, I'm so behind on things I'd like to blog at this point, that I'm not sure I can catch up.  That is when I usually just go for a mammoth, and often rambling, post with little direction or resolution.  Yup, that sounds like the plan, just not today.

Jeremy has entered the realm of 12-hour days, thankfully just 5 days a week and not the 6 days originally called for when the discussion began a few months back.  This will carry on for about 6 weeks.  Right through the Bugga man's big bad 2nd birthday.  Good thing we don't have anything spectacular planned, as we'll probably be lucky if J can keep his eyes open by that point. ;)

On top of that delightful-ness, we have a new foster doggie.  And...hmmm...what to say?!  Let's just say, she has evoked one of my favorite sayings many a time already:  sometimes the most challenging things in life are the most rewarding.  ;)  Her name is Olive.  She is beautiful.  I imagine you'll be seeing more of her, that is, if she lasts (there is an application in on her right now!).  We are not her first foster home, she has been with ARLP for a little over 2 months and we are actually her 3rd stop (4th, if you count a less than 2 day stop at a temporary foster home).

Hopefully I will return with updates on the following:

* Hambone's wonderful visit (formerly Timon-Moanie)

* Our reunion with great pals the Stewart family!!!

* Bugga's fear of change (warning:  sad picture, poor Buggie)

Maybe at night, when J is snoring by a little after 8p, often involuntarily, I can blog....it's a thought.  Of course, that assumes nothing else needs to be done.  HAHAHA, that hasn't kept me from blogging before. ;)  Check you all later! =)