Dusting off the cobwebs

Swish.  Swoosh.  Whew.

As you can see, I'm finally trying to dust off some of the cobwebs of this little blog and play a mad game of catch-up.  Spring cleaning was never so much fun, huh?! 

What's that?!  It's Summer already.  Crap.

Anywho...my Dad returned home to NE this week.  He left the great state of MN on Tuesday, exactly 2 months from the date he first arrived.  He went through 4 weeks of residential treatment during that time, here in MN, which was a blessing because we could visit him on weekends and often brought him back to our house for day or whole-weekend passes.  Was it successful?  Only time will tell.  I want to be hopeful, but history keeps me guarded.  I can say he was in good spirits, and his physical health was far improved from when he first came to stay.  

Probably the best part of his visit was watching the relationship between him and Grady develop and flourish, after being basically non-existent for Bug's first 2 years of life.  Dad requested pictures with Bugga and the big 2 dogs before he went home and the following chronicles the folly of attempting such a thing.  ;)

The dogs didn't want to sit still.

Bugga insisted on holding his broom.

And not looking at the camera, both of which irked my sometimes too-serious Dad.  Personally, it just made me laugh and I assured him it was probably the best we could hope for with a 2 year old. =)

I'm posting this picture simply as an illustration of just how difficult it was to get those 2 to sit still for even 2 seconds.  

Oh my goodness....I just realized how far behind I am indeed.  None of you know this dog.  This leggy, big, brown and white boy dog.  DOH!

This is BRAN.  {One of } Our new foster{s}.  ;)  See now?  Catch-up is an understatement.

So Bowie got adopted on May 23rd, exactly one year to the date that we brought home our first foster Pumba.  Personally, I love dates and I find it endlessly interesting when dates coincide like that.  But I know not everyone shares my sad little fascinations, so I'll move on.

We took a little time off.  Dad was in treatment, during the weekdays anyway, and we were enjoying some time down to just our humble little family of 6--J, Bug, me, Paisley, Monkey, and Turtle.  You know, our quiet, little family.  ;)

June 1st, Mr. Bran came bouncing into our family.  Bouncing, bounding, jumping, licking, smiling, tail-chasing, these are some of Branny's more treasured pastimes.  He is 5 years old.  He is sweet.  I swear he is mixed with lab, because he has a few little...um...quirks.  =)  Nothing awful, but it must be the lab in him, that's all I can say (no offense to any lab-lovers that happen upon this blog!).  

Fast forward to June 12th, Dad completed his treatment and came back home to our house.  We were up to 8 family members, but that was nothing, we were about to double that +1.

Enter Sula, June 13th.  

Then enter Sula's 8 babies that very night.  Yeah, more on that later.  Don't you worry.  =)

See that, in the background of that pic there?  Is that...wait...really...chain link?!  In my house?  I did always have slightly different home decor tastes I suppose.  

Since I'm off topic, can I just take a moment to say how enormously GRATEFUL I was to have Dad here for that adventure!!!  Wowsa!  It would have been freak-out central without his calm and experienced demeanor throughout the night and beyond.  He stuck around and helped as we became a household of 17 living, breathing beings.  17.  17.  17.  

Sorry, oops, I get stuck on repeat every now and again.  Minor side effect of the past few weeks. ;)

Alas, we are back down to 16 now.  Darn near lonesome, I tell you.  Good thing I have all of you, right?!  {Echo}  {Crickets}  Um, well that's okay, I might have things to do around here after all.  ;)

I didn't miss it...

...no, I didn't miss Father's Day. I mean, he's still Papa today, just like he was on Sunday. So no, I didn't miss it at all. ;)

What a great Papa he is too. Papa, Dad, Daddy, the "man", or just J--all those titles get tossed his way daily it seems--whatever you call him, he's there, willing to share a hug or a wrestle-fest.

I couldn't have asked, hoped, or dreamed for a better partner for this journey of parenthood. Or the journey of life in general. =)

Plus, where else would my child inherit such amazing hair?!

He takes his roll as a "doggie parent" just as seriously as he takes his roll as parent to our Bug, and he enjoys all the spoils just as much too. =)

Happy Father's Day to my J, my Doug*, my honey, the man. Love you always, thanks for keeping me laughing and helping me keep this crazy family in some semblance of sanity. =)

*Inside joke, going waaaay back to the beginning, as it were. High school even. Okay, since I've given up all hopes of not being a huge dork, I'll go ahead and share. So J and I were just lovey-dovey high schoolers dating. He had his little crew of ragamuffin pals (ha!) and one day we were all hanging out and they kept calling each other "dog." How very urban of them huh?! If only there weren't corn fields a stone's throw away. Anyway. They left and I naively asked Jeremy "why did they keep calling you Doug?" I misunderstood. Story of my life. ;)

An equation

This...

Plus this....

= best buds

;)

My kind of math.  Hehe.

I can't imagine life without these two clown-attack-jacks, as I am known to call them (what?!  They cause a lot of trouble around here, you know!).

I have to think of title too?!

Well, it's been much too long since I last posted.  Go figure. ;)

At any rate, the thunder is rolling in and I should be snoring--and no doubt my sweetie J is snoring--so I thought there's no time like the present to post something.  Anything.  Pretend I haven't gone MIA yet again.  

So tonight, I love me some hubby J (snoring, but not in this pic, obviously).

I love me some Bugga, even covered in paint (also snoring, but not in this pic).

And I love me some foster pup Bowie (also snoring, currently in the same room as me, so I know it's true).

Love me some getting tagged by crazy cool bloggie pals (ahem, Leah, who I would guess is snoring as well, though I have no way of knowing for sure).  

I do not, however, love me some adult acne, unfinished oatmeal, morning hair, and messy kitchen just beyond view of the camera lens.  I know it's there.  That's all that matters.  

Love me some of my own Dad too, shown here with the doggies falling helplessly under his spell (all those pictured should definitely be snoring).  

Love me some PaiPai girl, in a hammock, always and forever, never grow old, live with me forever you crazy dog. ;)

Love me some funny paint-eating faces from my Grady-Bugga-Boone. =)

Well, since all my loves are doing it too, I suppose I should join the party....zzzzzzz. ;)

~~~

Side note for anyone who might be following along...my Dad did enter a residential treatment facility last week.  I am so proud of him, I honestly questioned if such a day would ever arrive.  I know it is a big step for him, and beyond my scope of thinking honestly, so we are focusing on trying to support him as he goes through this next part of his journey.  I could not have gone through the past 4 weeks without the support of so many friends and family, from phone calls to emails and prayers and well wishes, we couldn't thank you all enough.  

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. ;)

~~~~~

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.