Almost drowning at Erie "Lake" (Peninsula)

(I am SLOWLY getting back into writing, (since moving...Thanks for your patience dear reader:) And I do mean dear...I really appriciate your being here with me as I talk about my life. 

Feels a little bit self indulgent, yet I know this is what I need to do. If anyone who has been through abuse or a near death experience can find help or solace in any of this, it is worth writing this to me.

When I was little I remember my parents went on vacation without me. I don’t know if my sisters went with them or not, but they weren’t with me, and they didn’t stay home, so I’m assuming they went with my parents.  Interesting. I never thought about that before writing this.  But I know that my neighbors actually took care of me while they were gone.

The Brocks.   Ahhhh, the Brocks. I loved them.

My favorite hangout when I was a child was on their land. There was a stream running through the front of their land with cattails and tadpoles EVERYWHERE…tadpoles were fun to catch.

 They had a HUGE field with killdeer (birds) that chased me as I screamed bloody murder through the long grass.  The females laid their eggs in a nest on the ground,  and they protected the nests ferociously. They ran at whomever, whenever anyone even got near the nest. They terrified me. That nature to protect is so inherent  in those females.

What happens to the nature of an abused woman  when their children are abused? The only thing I can think of is that nature so inherent in the bird family, in most of nature, where you see a mother who will FIGHT to the death just to protect her young can be lost in a woman who is with an abuser. Some can be SO lost in their  own  struggle to survive that they lose that inherent, VITAL will to protect their children because they are so focused on keeping themselves alive when they feel  they have nowhere to go.

 I applaud women who do leave. They teach their children a valuable lesson. That NO ONE has the right to beat another human being. She has more respect for herself, and her children than the man who is insisting that, because he is stronger he can use it to beat “OBEY”! into their heads.

I would respect my mother that much more if she had the strength and decency to put her children above a man who was literally tearing her children apart. Instead, she joined in. Thank God I had places I could escape to.

The Brock's had a great chestnut tree I sat under. I hid from the world under its cover. I could crack the nuts open with a nutcracker I got from my parent's kitchen. If I didn’t bloody my knuckles  too much with the needles on the things I would eat it. I would sit under that tree for hours and daydream. I would disappear for hours. I would not answer to the calls of my parents , my sisters, or anybody. I lived in my world under that tree, and the sky was green, ok, at least the leaves were.

Late at night under the chestnut tree, the lightning bugs came out, and I could catch them between two Dixie cups, or if I was REALLY lucky, I could get plastic cups that were see through, and then when I caught one I could use it as a lantern-almost, if I had enough tape to keep the cups together. If I didn’t have any tape, I would desperately try to keep the cups together so they wouldn't escape and leave me in the dark. That would land me with an angry lightning bug trying to get out and sooner or later they would fly off, like a tiny little Christmas light rising up to the sky.  But for just a second, EVERYTHING was illuminated. 

Life is kinda like that. Everything is clearer when you can see, and you’re not in the dark anymore.

 Lightning bugs are so cool. Growing up with them I just assumed they would always be there. (One thing  of interest I found out from a friend... back east fireflies light up the sky. Where I live in the Pacific Northwest now, I thought they didn't have fireflies. They do. They just don't light up. What makes a firefly light up?  Well you could say its what they're made of. As with everything else in life. Its all in what were made of. I had to be made of some pretty tough stuff growing up. I'd like to think I am a firefly, all lit up. (Depends on the day, haha) 

Needless to say, I LOVED the Brocks. But maybe their land even more:P.

So, when my parents had me stay at the Brock's house while they were away, I was pretty happy about it.

Mrs. Brock was pretty crabby. I surmise it was because of the precocious little girl that I could be. I never could sit still for long.

Her crabbiness even transferred to the dinner table.

She wouldn't even let me have honey from their honey jar until I ate all the carrots on my plate. I pouted for a long time until Mr Brock persuaded me to eat them drizzling honey on the carrots. 

 While I was with them, she took me to Erie Zoo. What a treat! My parents didn't bring me there many times during my childhood. 

There some random newspaper man saw this little wild thing (me) climbing around on the zoos version of what I thought was a water fountain, a cement full color baby elephant with water coming out of the trunk.

 This newspaper man asked me to climb up the elephant the rest of the way and get a drink from its trunk so he could take a picture.

"Hallelujah! I GET TO CLIMB BACK UP!!" I thought, deliriously dizzy with happiness.

Mrs. Brock was mortified…she had just been trying to get the wild child (Me)  to “ GET DOWN FROM THAT THING!!”  

But Mr newspaper man told me to climb up it, I got my picture taken, and later on I even got my picture in the newspaper with the inscription "Heidi whets her whistle" 

I was delighted.  My mom cut it out and gave it to me.  One kindness anyway.

I still have that picture to this day.

Later that day Mrs. Brock took me to Erie "Lake".

I hadn’t really learned how to swim yet, though my first experience with water terrified me.

 My first swimming lesson was with a lot of other children there for lessons.

The instructor at the pool decided to teach me a quick lesson.  I didn’t float at first, so he decided to try to teach me to not be scared by holding me under the water. I was even more terrified... I screamed underwater! My lungs were on fire and it felt like forever till he  pulled me back up out of the water. 

Presque Isle State Park: (what we called Erie “Lake” (Peninsula)  was beautiful. I loved sticking my nose out the window smelling the fresh air, looking at the sand and how it shimmered in the sun.

I adored going there. Years later, I have memories of throwing seaweed at my sisters there.

It was a cheap way of going swimming, but it was a dangerous place. There were currents that could pull you out too far before you knew it. They would have current warnings that you could dial in to the radio to find out about.

When I was with Mrs. Brock there,  I played where she could see me, close to shore.  

At first.  

In my five- year- old mind, everything there was pretty. The sand was pretty, the beach was pretty, the water was pretty. 

But what I was unaware of is that I was being dragged out farther into the water. When I finally realized what was happening I tried to cry out, but when I did, my mouth filled with sand and dirty water that I kicked up from my struggle. I gagged on it as I tried desperately to pull myself closer to shore.  I remember the harder I tried, the more the current weighed down my arms and dragged me out. 

I was going under.

I flailed around, terrified, I realized I was drowning and felt helpless to do anything about it. I couldn't fight anymore. I let go, looked down, and thought how beautiful everything appeared and how sad I was to leave it. The rocks were grey and white and dappled, so many different colors, and there was an indescribable peace. A peace I have only felt twice in my life, (Those of you who have been reading  my blogs may know of my other near death experience) but for me now it comes from a place that is familiar to me.  A place I suspect at least once in my AFTER life  I will be surrounded by people I have loved before.

It's funny the things you remember as a child. A dog's wet nose,(I cuddled a LOT of dogs),  the sound of water, the color of rocks as you're drowning, and then your lungs burning as someone, mercifully, tearfully, is pulling you out of the water and you know you’re safe.

Some people who drive have the mentality of a limp noodle. Overcooked. And yet I am still ok.

I have moved. Finally. I am still in overwhelmed mode and am just finding my way around. My house is in disarray, my brain is overloaded and I am happily aware that many things around here are conveniently close. But finding specifics, well, it’s a miracle that I'm finding them at all, but thanks to my GPS on my phone, it’s not quite so bad.

The place I have moved to has been called by some of my friends "Ghetto Ville". It would kinda be considered "With the hicks in the sticks" if you know what I mean.

 On the road where I live it is not. I live in a gorgeous neighborhood in a beautiful house. I don't know what the rest of the place is like, I haven't been here long enough.

Just when I'm starting to feel a little bit at home, I go to find something at a store.

I'm on the freeway, and  am trying to move over. I put on my turn signal, and the guy in the other lane speeds up. So I move over. There was room after all... Well I get to my exit, he follows me on my right, speeds up and starts yelling at me from the passenger side..."You Fing bitch what the hell do  you think you’re doing"???

 I just waive at people like that and say "hi” like I don't hear a word they're saying. It actually makes me feel better that I'm not reacting negatively to such moronic behavior.

He got even more pissed off. Even though there wasn't any space, he moved over into my lane in front of me, so if I would have moved forward at all, I would crash into him. So, since there was no one in back of me, (Thank God) I backed up and motioned for him to get in front of me. Then he got this look on his face, actually mouthed that he was sorry, and I just motioned for him to get in front of me.

Oh CRAP...he was  going to the same place I was... I turned off and went somewhere else. I didn't want to have him maybe follow me in the parking lot to say sorry, or see him in one of the stores I was going to...I was just wanting to get away.

Later on, I'm on my way home, and am at a stop light. Apparently I wasn't going fast enough around the corner for some redneck. He and his girlfriend honked at me, called me a "Stupid bitch", sped around me, (She flipped me off as I waived hi...for the second time today...) went right in front of me without using a turn signal, getting into my lane and almost causing me to crash into them. What the???

Is the amount of sunlight lately been blinding people? Or maybe the fact that today its grey and the rain may be corroding some peoples brain tissue? AHHHH!

I walked into a Dutch bakery today downtown. All the ol regulars were there having lunch. The place I lived before I may have walked into a familiar place, may have even seen people I knew. Today was different. I was the outsider this time. I was the one feeling out of place. I didn't like that.

But as I got to my street and drove up the road to my home, MY actual home (We have never owned up until now) saw the familiar roses that I had put into pots(That have to be planted pretty soon...if they could talk they would be scolding me.) walked in the door and just dropped the groceries exhausted on the kitchen counter, I felt at home. As if on cue the doorbell rang not long ago and I saw more familiar faces. As if my roses weren't enough. Everything is falling into place. And the familiar phrase rings in my ear. Something I've told myself for years, when I was being beaten, when I was feeling alone, When life seemed unfair and that nothing was going to be right, something whispered in my ear. Everything is going to be ok.

And it is.

We are in the new house and unpacking...

But it takes forever. Just wanted you guys to know I haven't forgotten about you and are lookng forward to sitting down, gathering my thoughts (They are ALL over the place right now) and writing again. Thanks for your patience:)

I'm a PUPPET! (Not)

Buying a house makes you feel very much like a puppet on a string. "Make a quick decision"! "Get a contractor"...(yesterday)! "Do everything we say or we'll yank the rug out under you and laugh as you fall down the stairs"! (Kidding...but OH.MY. GOSH!! Anybody else feel like the real estate market is just a longer, way too drawn out used car salesman attack?

Well...this is not McDonalds and I'm not out for a fast food mortgage.:P

Thats about all I have the time to write for the moment, moving is murder! But I'll be back as soon as I can.

THe house is OURS! (If We want it:)

Signed papers for the HOUSE! Now to have the inspector go in and check it out for us to make sure everything is in order. Now you may not hear for me for a bit...But I'll be back (Ahhhhhhhnold eat yo heart out..YEAH!)

Sebastion...the pup may have saved our lives.

Meanwhile Joe started looking up things. Wondering if maybe Buggys seizures were related to anything.

What he found was surprising. (I wish we would have found it before out lil guy passed. It could be another thing that may have saved his life. Hindsite is everything. But it SUCKS. I am posting this becasue maybe it could help some of you, I don't know) Joe found a LOT on black mold. That black mold had been known to cause seizures in animals, breathing related problems and pneumonia in humans. We had been pretty sick off and on for 6 months or more with major breathing issues. I clean every Thursday, but hadn’t done much with the windows and there was black mold around the house. ESPECIALLY on the windows. The way the YouTube videos explained it was that since its alive, the black stuff is excrement. Talk about goin to the toilet…literally..lol. The first thing we looked up is how to get rid of it…And surprisingly, vinegar kills 82% of the stuff, bleach just kills surface, but Hydrogen peroxide kills 100% of it. So depending on what color a persons walls in their  are, if its white straight hydrogen peroxide kills it dead. You have to spray the stuff on and leave it 24 hours though. Because its ALIVE. If its alive it can get into your lungs and wreak all kinds of havock. You can always just use vinegar with a bit of  hydrogen peroxide. Then you get out a scrubber after 24  hours and a FACEMASK, just in case anything is still alive in there, and you scrub.  After we did the entire house its amazing how much better we could breathe. Another plus…Every time you walk around the house it smells like a salt and vinegar potato chip factory. HA!

I hate to say that what happened to Buggy made us look, but it did. It may have saved our lives, because we were pretty sick (It also made us realize also that we just don’t want to rent a house anymore, so we’ve looked for a house and have just a few days ago put a bid on one. Crossing my fingers here)

We may have Sebastion to thank for our lives. Loyal, sweet little pup.

Sebastion: The Memorial. Part 7

Sebastion: The Memorial

Writing about this is like ripping open a scab that has just started to heal. It HURTS. I've been sitting here this afternoon bawling through most of this last bit about Buggy. It’s painful. I’m exhausted but I don’t want to forget. And so I write.

At the time he passed we sat around moping for quite a while. We talked about how he was, things he did, how we missed him.  I was SO emotionally and physically drained that I just went back to sleep after that and slept and slept. I woke up to the sound of the lawn mower. Of Course.

Joe couldn’t handle what was happening with our lil guy and went outside to mow the lawn. On a week day. Not typical at all.

Meanwhile Jez was wandering around, she looked so lost. I don’t know if she stayed downstairs where we had Buggy after he had died while Joe was mowing the lawn or not, but when I woke up and found out Joe had dug a hole, he picked up Buggy, I picked up Jez  and as we were going out the screen door as Jez gave him a lick, as if to say…”Wake UP!” , Joe pulled him away. I think it was like a knee jerk reaction, Being protective of buggy, AND Jez. We went up to the place Joe had picked for him, one of his favorite places to be in the yard, by the big forest trees he had liked to mark (What a memory) and right away Joe put buggy in the hole.  Jez FREAKED OUT. She jumped out of my arms and ran away. I got down towards that hole and said my goodbyes, I was just bawling.

But poor Joe….He was in so much agony that he just wanted to finish burying his buddy so he could just finally fall apart and let it all out. Sebastion was his favorite dog. They really were buddies. But so was Jez and Sebastion. I almost wondered if she thought that “he was in trouble so we put him in a hole” or something. Might seem silly, but you just don’t know what is in a cats head.

We stood there arm in arm and read

“The Best Place To Bury A Dog”

There is one best place to bury a dog.

If you bury him in this spot he will come to you when you call

Come to you over the grim, dim frontier of death and down the well-remembered path

And to your side again

And though you call a dozen living dogs to heel, they shall not growl at him, nor resent his coming, for he belongs there.

People may scoff at you, who see no lightest blade of grass bent by his footfall, who hear no whimper, people who may never really have had a dog.

Smile at them, for you shall know something that is hidden from them, and which is well worth the knowing.

The one best place to bury a good dog is in the heart of his master.”

(By Ben Her Lampman From the Orgonian Sept 11, 1925)

Joe got through about a sentence of the poem, and then I had to take over and read the rest, both of us tears streaming down our face.

Jezabel was nowhere to be seen.

Usually Jez abel is a very talkative cat. After Buggy’s death for WEEKS, she wasn’t. She wandered the yard, searching for Buggy, little chin not in that little curled up smiley face I was used to seeing, Just a straight, sad little pulled in face. They had ALWAYS been together. She walked around with such a sad  sad face. When she did meow it was a pitiful, mournful sound. I don’t know if she’ll ever be the same. Its been a month, and she’s talking to me in that cute little chirping way that Maine coon cats are known to do ;more like she used to, but watching her wander the yard with her head snapping around any time a dog barks just rips my heart out. She’s lost her best friend.

I read once of a woman who passed away,(and came back) and instead of a person greeting her, it was her dog.

After a VERY joyous reunion where the dog was telling her (Telepathically, of course;)) everything, he showed her his HOUSE. Heaven to him, was her house. But not just one. He had made all his favorite places houses she had lived with him, all into one big house with all his favorite things, and everything he loved about her.  She felt so much love from her pet. Then she was gone and back in her body.

I wonder if when Jez goes, that he’ll be on the other side, waiting for her, favorite things close by. The little pom and the big kitty, sleeping side by side, never to be parted again.

There’s a quote  from “Gladiator”. You know , a short sweet quote that  everybody knows.

For me, the time that is coming may be far into the future. And yet it makes me sad that I can’t see my  little friend. But some day.

Just “Not yet my little friend. Not yet”.  

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QtzQRq6qSFA

Sebastion: The Last Day

The Last Day

One Sunday we went  to church as usual and  came home.  When we came home Bastion was sitting there at the bottom of the stairs staring up at us like usual. I was used to seeing  him, either lying in his bed looking up the stairs at us, or he and Jez snuggled up together in the big bed. Or he’d be sitting at the gate wagging his tail, making these little motions with his head trying to get me to come downstairs to say hi to him, which I usually did. They say poms are little conversationalists, buggy was no different. If I forgot to give him his food right at noon he would let me know. I’d hear that little bark. It was like having a little alarm clock.

 We would always make pancakes after church so we did, and then went to feed Buggy. He was sitting there at the bottom of the stairs excited to be fed, running in circles as usual. So Joe went down to see him and gave him what he wanted. Many times Joe would sit down by Buggy and I would see the two of them together . The little pom and my big tall husband (Who is 6’3) The lil  pom  with his muzzle in Joe,s palm. 

When Joe started to work from home it was cute to see how excited Bastion would be having Joe down there all the time (That room ended up being  Joes office) The two boys in their man cave.:P

This time when Joe had been feeding him hehad a premonition. Something said “What if Sebastion died”? The thought scared him but he just shrugged it off.  

 Joe stayed down there a little while at his chair when he started to hear Sebastion cough. He sometimes had coughing fits, but they would end. It started a few years back. He would start coughing but it would clear up and go away in a minute or 2. The vet said there was nothing much he could do for it, though we gave him medicine every day for it. Poms have a tendency towards collapsed tracheas and many poms die from it. My next door neighbor had a pom and their pom died not long ago from it. When you hear your pom has it, it scares you because there is nothing that can be done, just trying to keep them from getting excited is part of what little can be done, along with medicine.

Well this time after we fed him it wouldn’t stop. He would cough, try to clear his lungs, and not quite be able to do it. Joe had been sitting  in his computer chair and Bastion kept going over and nuzzling his hand, looking up at him, confused at  what was happening to him.

 Joe kept thinking how scared he looked, there was so much fear in his eyes, like he was asking “What’s WRONG with me”?

He would go outside, go inside, get on his pet bed, have a coughing fit and go outside again. Not much longer after that it got worse. His breathing suddenly got jagged and fast. He was going out and sitting outside a lot.

 It was a beautiful warm day, with big puffy clouds and a blue sky. I went outside to where Buggy was sitting. He looked exhausted. I got this feeling that this might be the last time I would see him outside like this. I just stood there with him, petting him and trying not to cry because I could see he was having a horrific time breathing. He kept looking up at me like “HELP” and I couldn’t do ANYTHING. It was breaking my heart.

 This whole time I had been what my husband calls his“Captain” of sorts. Helping him through everything, Giving him a bath every week (Ug) training him, helping him when he had problems, but this time, I couldn’t do ANYTHING. I couldn’t help him through this. It was tearing me apart. My heart was breaking.

I went inside and said “I don’t know that Buggy is going to be ok”. I kept praying about it, but I kept getting the same feeling.

Later that night we watched a movie( “City Of Joy”, a favorite of mine ) as we had put Bug to bed and he was sleeping. We didn’t want to excite him in any way if possible.

Around 10 pm Joe went down to say goodnight and stayed by him a while praying over him asking that if he was going to go, please take him quick, but if not to help him get better.

I went down to go to say goodnight to him, and then went back upstairs to go to sleep.

Around 3 am I heard this awful  sound.

It sounded like the kind bark that Sebastion had been doing when he had those seizures. I RAN downstairs to see him  and what I saw just ripped me apart. 

He was still having trouble breathing, but now it was low, shallow breathing. All I could do was sit there and pray. I kept begging, Please GOD! My little friend is suffering.Please ,take him quickly if you take him. I don’t want him to be in pain anymore. He seemed to breathe a little easier, so I went upstairs, feeling exhausted. Joe was asleep, but I was just gut wrenchingly sad so I got on facebook and posted “Please God, ease my little friends pain. I don’t want him to suffer anymore”. Then I went down to check on him again.

I looked over our stairs to his room, and I saw he’d been looking up the stairs the whole time, waiting for me to come back.

I went back down to be with him. I had a feeling I didn’t have much longer to be with him.

As soon as I got there, he turned him head and went back to looking straight ahead. I kept petting him. I knew he had been waiting for me to come back. I wasn’t’ going anywhere. Even though I couldn’t do anything, I wanted him to know that he was loved and that I was THERE.

His breathing got worse and more erratic and I was terrified for him…how much pain he was in, I didn’t know. But I hoped it would be over soon.

All of a sudden he opened his mouth, like he was yelping but nothing came out. I knew even though Joe was asleep, I had to wake him up, NOW. I went running up the steps SCREAMING and crying… “Joe! I think Buggys dying”!!! Joe and I ran downstairs and I saw that he was sprawled out.;His chest barely rising and falling. We both fell on our knees and were petting him just telling him we loved him, and then Joe said “Its ok, you can go”

It was like that was all our little guy needed to hear. His front little legs suddenly went back, like he was trying to touch his tail, one last breath, and he was GONE.

He died about a  half hour after I posted  on Facebook. Thank you God.

 I could hear myself say…Ohhhh Buggy” and I just kept sobbing. Joe and I just sat on the couch sobbing. It was SO hard to believe such a lively little spirit was GONE.

The little guy who had always been there, that little bark that I had heard…What I called his “Smokers bark” that raspy bark all poms have was something I would never hear again…the cute little monkey face that was eagerly waiting at the end of the stairs whenever we got home would never be again. And I was devastated.

A week later I was sitting in that café when I looked up and saw “Love Bug” in those big letters on that blackboard above the table in the bar. In the end, I think that message “Love Bug” was for me.  Sitting there at the table, it felt like a goodbye.

Goodbye Buggy…LOVE, Bug. Yeah, I love ya too.

Sebastion and The Bad Bad Wet Food (Part 5)

Sebastion and The Bad Bad Wet Food

We hadn’t fed him much wet food, but we started. Then he REALLY started to go downhill. We noticed he was REALLY lethargic, seemed to have even MORE trouble getting up and out the door. He seemed to get worse and worse. We were afraid he wouldn’t be around for Christmas.

Then Joe looked up “What is in dog and cat food” and this is what came up. This is actual video of a slaughterhouse and what they use. We were SHOCKED as to what goes into dog food. And this isn’t just the cheap food. They mention some of the top names in the industry in the video. The industry is virtually unregulated. Please, I BEG you. if you love your animal, pay attention to what you feed them. EDUCATE yourself. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bAZrpWzAzww

Sorry…I know it is a side note, but I feel its important for me to give you the chance to know.,if one person is saved from their critters dying early, I will gladly have posted this.

If I had ANY idea what went into dog food, I would have NEVER fed my dog the stuff.

The only way you can regulate what your dog eats is by making it yourself. The industry is far too unsafe. They don’t care about your pet. They care about money. Doesn’t matter what kind of meat, or how diseased it is, or what the animal is, it is cold hard CASH they care about. Sorry….I am just furious.

Part of the reason my dog may be gone is something we had no idea would hurt him. His FOOD,  of all things.

We decided to start making our own dog food and freezing it into little baggies. (Its actually REALLY easy) Little did we know, it would change EVERYTHING.

As we started to feed him our home made food, we noticed slowly his eyes got brighter, with in a couple weeks he wasn’t lethargic anymore, and he was actually doing a miniature version of his run run run in circles for his food when we fed him.

(I even took video of him running in those crazy circles for his food that we have in our memorial video we made of him. (It’s on a post in a blog a few back when I wrote that my dog died if you want to see it)

(Looking back, I WISH I would have taken more video. That video is all we have, other than small videos of Christmas’s and tiny little videos of which he was a small part. If I could change anything, I would change that. And videos of him , of how he would sit at the edge of the kitchen when we ate Sunday breakfast, waiting for scraps. I still remember th at, but I have no video. The walks and jogging I used to do with him, I don’t have any of that. THAT I would change. If you have a lil critter…take videos, or pictures. Anything so when they are gone, you will have plenty to remember them by. We have lots of pictures, but we still could have had more.)

One day my friend Pauline came over with her little dog Boop. It was about time to feed Buggy and he was excited. All of a sudden all I could hear was this HORRIBLE high pitched bark (It sounded like he was begging for help) and it scared me. I had never heard him do that before so I ran downstairs…He was lying on his side. He couldn’t move. He just looked up at me and all I could see was terror in his eyes. And a look that said “I know you can make it better”  That was the worst part, I couldn’t. I just had to sit there until the seizure  was over. We looked everywhere online and it looked like what happened to him was a seizure. It’s an unnerving thing to watch because while its happening, there’s nothing you can do. This little guy trusted me with everything; After all, I had trained him. My husband thinks he looked at me as his “captain” but I felt so helpless sitting there trying to comfort him. A few minutes later he was able to walk again. I was relieved.

A few months later, the same thing happened again. Joe went downstairs to give him the food, he got excited, and he fell over and couldn’t move. I just hoped he would be ok.

Minutes later he got up and was fine again. I hoped that the seizures would stop, but I didn't know what to think. He was getting older and I didn't know what these seizures did to him.

Sebastion: The lil Old Man And The Man Cave (Part 4)

The “Little Old Man” Phase.

 As Sebastion got older, I started calling him “The Little ol man”. 

Everything got harder for him. Making it down the stairs to go outside, jumping on the bed, or the couch became impossible.  

He would look longingly up at us on the bed Until we (Mostly Joe) picked him up, or when we were on the couch Joe would pick him up on the couch and he would be content, to sit at our feet. He would sleep under the bench in front of our bed on Joes clothes that he sometimes left there.(I suppose that was comforting to him, He LOVED Joe)

We realized soon enough that the stairs to the downstairs were just too much for him, to go down or up. For years he would conquer the stairs by doing this kind of hop HOP with the top half being the first hop up or down, (Depending on which way he was going) and the second HOP being his back legs. It was all bounce and no play. Getting up or down the stairs was serious business. Until it just became too much for him. His legs just weren’t what they used to be.

So I decided to make it easy on him. Or so I thought.

I put a child gate up in the room where the doggie door is and gave him a nice bed downstairs. So I was thinking that would make his  life SO MUCH easier. But poor Sebastion didn’t see it that way. He would go out the dog door, come back inside and look at the gate. Then go outside, and do it again. To make matters worse, the day I put up the gate it was raining VERY hard. I stayed downstairs for a while with him. When I saw what he was doing I went and got a towel. He would go outside, come back in soaking wet, look at the gate, look at me, I would dry him off, and the cycle would start all over again. Then he would go out, then in, look at the gate, me, I would  dry him off, then he'd be off to do the same thing, over and OVER again. 

It was heartbreaking.

My husband said it was as if he was hoping one of those times that the gate would disappear so he could try, however hard it was…to go back upstairs where he wanted to be.

I was afraid he would make himself deathly ill going out in the rain this way. I went outside to find him  one of the times he was out in the rain. I took a few steps and went FLYING down our very high upper deck stairs. CRAP! I forgot to put down anything in case it got slick! 

Guess I was getting older too. It took me FOREVER to get back up. That left a mark. A BIG one.

I decided to block the dog door for that night , at least for a bit so at least he could stay dry.

I went upstairs and decided to lay down for a while, only to wake up the next morning.

CRAP!!! I left the door blocked!

I ran downstairs and saw the mess. I felt so badly, the poor lil ol man walked up to me, head down like it was an apology. 

I told him that “I knew it wasn’t his fault”.

Little by little he got used to the gate, though I am sure he HATED the thing. He would be looking up at us all the time when we were upstairs.. Joe  was down there sometimes for work from 9 to 5, he went down there a lot…I would go too, but I know there’s no place he would have rather been than upstairs with us.

-Jealousy, thy name is Jez!-

While that downstairs room became the “Boys Room” (Joe worked from home, so Sebastion and he spent a lot of time down there.) I went down there a lot too. (I actually LIKE Joe working from home.) Jezabel, our cat would jump on top of the gate, then  go over it to go outside, but she started to steal Sebastion's bed when she went down there. At first it felt was like she was saying “”How DARE you give him a room and not me”!  Joe would kick her out, and Jez would just sneak back in and do it again, Kicking the dog out of his favorite bed in the process (I had set up two beds, but Jez liked HIS. )I was puzzled. They had ALWAYS slept around each other, on the couch, all over, and were like siblings, CLOSE siblings. Buddies even.

But something was going on here. I told Joe to just let it be. Sebastion would go to sleep in another bed I had put down there for him (Not his favorite) but little by little, as Jez realized she was allowed in there, she would get close to Sebastions bed, get right up to Sebastion, and then lay down right by him in his little bed. It was a tight fit, but she was content. Ahhhhhh…THAT’S what she wanted.

Before this I think she may have thought at least if she wasn’t ALLOWED to SLEEP in the same bed with him, she could at least be near his scent, and that was enough. Endearing, I thought. The two had been buddies after all for SO many years.

I got a BIG pet bed for them after that and she was content. I would walk past them in the hallway and see those two snuggled up together, The cat and the dog , like the little lamb (Sebastion) and the lion (Jezabel) lying down together. I took pictures of it. It is one of my dearest  memories.

House

(No not the doctor:p Let me rephrase this whole thing. THOUGHT this house was in the bag. Now I found out someoneelse  is offering too on the house, so dunno if were getting ready to move now but never the less, we are moving at some point. Sigh. Hope we get this house...BUt in the meantime maybe I can write the last part about my dog, and then get back into the rest of my moms journal. Talk about getting off track:p I promise, I WILL get back to it.

Will be back...am moving and want to let you guys know, I'll be blogging the last story of my dog and working on my life story, just have to move a HOUSE!

To ANOTHER house:) Are buying one! BUT I will be back as soon as all of my things are unpacked to talk to you:) Maybe even before I TOTALLY unpack. Thanks for your patience:)

Sebastion: Mr Majestic: Part 3

Sometimes you can’t sum up a life in one blog- Kinda like the last Harry Potter book can’t be summed up in one movie. lol

Our dog was like that. Not that he was like an epic movie…but I’m sure if he could have told you, he would say he lived an epic life. (I think any dog would think that;) Everything is EXCITEMENT. FOOD!!! YES YES YES! WALK!!! YES YES YES. Your FINALLY HOME!!! YES! Rub me THERE! YES YES YES!!!

EVERYTHING is EPIC!

Poms are CONSTANTLY stimulated by their environment. I saw an episode of a Pomeranian being trained by a dog trainer and this lil guy (On the show) would get SO excited when anyone came in the door that he would spray pee EVERYWHERE. THAT is the Pom mentality. EVERYTHING is exciting.

When we would go for a walk, He would run in circles, sometimes tangling us up (Or tripping us up in the leash) in his excitement. 

There would be times that Sebastion would get SO excited that he would instantly go into run around in circles mode. We would say “RUN RUN RUN BUGGY!!!!!” and he would tear around the house in one long extended circle. If we were outside he would just tear off, devil may care face into the wind, tongue lolling out carving out a racetrack round the lawn. RUN RUN RUNNNNNN!!! YAHHHHH!

I was still trying to find a way to train him when I was coincidently at a friend’s house one day, and she was watching “Cesar Milan, The Dog Whisperer”(I’m sure he’s on YouTube or Animal Planet if you don’t know who he is, if you have a problem dog I HIGHLY recommend his methods)

It was AMAZING. It changed the way I looked at how dogs are. I got his book. I watched his show, got the dvd’s.  It turned my ferocious little pom into the sweet little guy he was meant to be.

It did not, however, happen overnight.

This was HARD work. And it took MONTHS.

My little pom would hear his name and would tear off in the OTHER direction. (Maybe he was directionally challenged. You know…like the football player who runs the wrong way?:p) Yeah... that had to stop. And there was a way.

The first advice that I remember Cesar giving to one woman on his DVD  was choose a movie or TV diva and be her. (At least in my case.) Men beware…this doesn’t work for you.(HA!) He was just trying to teach us to be the “Alpha” or lead “dog” in the relationship. Well, If I was going to be a kick butt dog trainer I would be  XENA WARRIOR PRINCESS!  Anyway, Little by little, I found the things that worked, I was CONSISTANT with him. No more being yappy or running the other direction when we called, no more running at the door, no more growling or biting Whit. He was a changed dog.

I even got him to the point before he was older where he would go jogging with me.  I had the leash with me, but not on him He would heel running by me the whole way without skipping a beat. Never ran after squirrels, or birds, or other dogs, once I trained him. Again, it’s all about consistency.  I won’t bore you with details…If you have a problem dog and your curious you can look up his techniques online.J

Dogs need consistency, kids need consistency, people need consistency, I need it too. No wonder it works.

As Sebastion  got older he just couldn’t go jogging with me anymore…He could barely make it to the end of the block. Going up the stairs became difficult. He would look at the stairs, even  the one little step that went to his favorite place (By the dining room table where he would get table scraps)with this wistful look in his eyes.  

(Darth BUGGY!)

His face, which had grown whiter with age, turned completely white, making his little face even more endearing. He seemed to get even cuter with age.(Kinda like Shawn Connery:p) His face looked like a little monkeys face with a widows peak at the top, framed with his still red and black tipped hair and white tail.

His tail made me laugh. It reminded me of a deer tail…Dark on top and white underneath. But it was like he got cheated out of his tail…Most poms have big poofy tails, but his was a little tiny tufted thing. When it was dark out and his tail was up it almost glowed in the dark. I could spot him a mile away with that little tail of his. But it was SO small. Funnier still was him trying to dominate the big TALL forest trees. The TEENY tiny little Pomeranian marking the forest trees in our back yard.

It might as as have been like  David trying to conquer Goliath.

Sebastion: Mr majestic- Part 2

I was at  a Café the other day. I was in a hurry and just wanted to order chocolate, so they stuck me on the corner near the bar. 

I was still feeling kind of depressed about my little guy (My Pomeranian Sebastion)  dying. As I ordered  I looked up and saw a blackboard with the drink of the day on it.  My eyes started to tear up. In big bold letters it said “Love Bug”. Our nickname for Sebastion was Buggy.

From the moment we got him as a puppy, he would bug us nonstop for attention,(He would nuzzle our hand until his little snout  fit perfectly into it)  Bark (A dogs version of saying (HEY! HEY!!!!) for  a chunk of hot dog or beef or chicken or anything,(Even sometimes for stuff my huz or daughter didn’t even like, he would eat) if it was food, it was fair game.

I found out not long ago that Whit would give him whatever food she didn’t like under the table. He was like a canine doggy disposal.  When we were eating, we knew two little eyes were fixed squarely, on US.  

When he was young, If he wanted to play, he would let us know in no uncertain terms, that it was TIME. SO, he was called, buggy, probably more times than Sebastion.  Sebastion turned into a kind of abbreviation, “Bastion”

But Buggy came out of our mouths more than not.

My cat Jezabel came along about a year after. 

She was meowing by the back door of our house  for 2 days before I finally got a bit of cream and put it out for her and grabbed her to see if she and Sebastion would  be friends. They warmed right up to each other. The big kitty went up and rubbed up against him right away, and they were instant friends. 

She would try to give him a bath every once in a while. He would tolerate it and she loved it. But it was funny to me, that long  hair would stick to her tongue and the “lick lick liiiiiiiiiiick” would be followed sometimes by sneezing and shaking her head.

A Before and AFTER story…

Most Poms will do almost anything for affection,(Including acting out to get their masters attention if they’re desperate for it-) and they are sweet little dogs. From what I’ve seen what it comes down to is what the master, buddy, and ceremonial pom owner teaches  them  makes their tendency towards being sassy, spirited, inquisitive sharp eyed busybodies  either work for them, or against them.

They have a real sweetness but a  tendency towards yappyness- and my lil Buggy was no exception. It almost feels a bit like story of the Golden retrever  “Marley” but with a before and  after.

Poms are SMART, sweet, speak their mind kind of dogs, and if they are trained the right way, they are intelligent, sweet dogs. If not, they can be, yappy, snapping at everyone, and can be VERY loud, annoying little dogs.

Pom puppys are busy little guys. From what I heard before I decided on a boy or girl, Pom boys are mamas girls and Pom girls are little princesses. So I had decided on a boy.

The Toddler Phase 

Sebastion was a busy lil fella. The pictures I have of him as a pup are all of him busily going somewhere, holding a stick in his teeth, holding his own leash, or grabbing a hold of my daughters tee shirt and playing tug a war with it, to the delight of my daughter. Sebastion and Whitney seemed more like they were siblings than anything else. At the time he came to us Whitney was around 5. There were times that Whitney would pull his tail to uncurl it . From what she told me, she would tease him when I wasn’t looking, (Sometimes when I WAS looking) and one time, in return for her  teasing him, he actually went and peed on her pillow. (TAKE THAT you HUMAN!)

He would chew on all kinds of stuff, including Joes toenails. He would chew them down to the nub….Joe would actually encourage it. SO weird:p Sebastion would sleep on your clothes if you left them on the floor (Not a problem for me but Whit’s clothes probably  smelled like dog more than anything else)

As he got older we realized there were problems.

Whitney would be sleeping in her bed, Sebastion would jump up on her bed to sleep by her, or on her, but every time she moved, he would growl, sometimes even snapping at her. There’s only so many times you can walk into your daughters room with a dog perched on top of her like he’s” king of the mountain”. :p I knew something needed to  be done. There were times that people came to visit, and the minute the doorbell rang this little Tasmanian devil would run at the door like it was a thing possessed. Heaven help the person behind the door! I was worried,

So… I started to look into dog behavior. I had wondered about that in the past because I had some experiences with dogs. Some good, some NOT good, but I wondered WHY dogs acted the way they did. I just knew this couldn’t continue. That and I had to follow him from room to room because we hadn’t had him fixed,(He’s a registered Pom ) and being a boy,(lol) he had to mark things. Hmmmmm…”This is mine, and THIS is mine…and cool! This is MINE TOO!” Not only did he mark carpet and furniture, I have guitars, basses, amps…and I found out that he MARKED THEM TOO! Ew.:p (Imagine if he was a big dog. Good thing he was a lil guy!) SO, I realized, ok…this is his…

Teen  Phase.

(Don’t teens have that problem? :p) The EVERYTHING is mine problem…You find things missing, broken, worn, or mysteriously found in a strange place? He would run the other direction when we called him, (Also sometimes like teenagers:p  growl or bite at us when we tried to pick him up. (GRUMPY! ALSO like teenagers) So I decided, better put everything up and away,(too bad you CAN’T do that with teenagers lol)  and started looking little by little, bit by bit looking things up on what to do. The only thing I could never stop him from doing after all was peeing on things. I just couldn’t CATCH him doing it.

So…heaven forbid, I was resolved to wearing a GOOD pair of shoes, following him with a good can of Lysol and hoping I wouldn’t slide into something in the middle of the night. But I hoped there was some way to train him, I just wasn’t sure how to do it.

Sebastion: Mr. Majestic (part 1- Sometimes you just can't write up a life in one blog)

These  last few weeks have been a  whirlwind of sickness, (Joe and I) dealing with my  mom’s journals where she talks about how horrible I am and doesn't say a word about  my fathers beatings,(I've been talking about that over MORE than  a month:) I’d rather take more than a month, though maybe I'll have to take a LIFETIME To understand it (I don’t have to explain that to anyone, though I guess I am) and so much emotional baggage. Baggage can be something you learn from, as long as you learn HOW to unload it. :p

Just as I’m unloading the unthinkable happens.

Our little Pomeranian Sebastian died...

When you lose a pet, it’s like a piece of you goes with the little critter. It leaves a hole that just cannot be filled. And your left moping about wishing you could turn back time to see them again and find some filler for that void. But there just isn’t one. Every pet has their own personality and no matter how you try to fill it, that one thing is irrevocably and miserably, GONE.

The hardest thing of all about a pet is that you know from day ONE when you get an animal that the day will come that you have to let them go.  

Its inevitable. And yet when it happens, your world seems that much smaller and your heart that much more broken. The world seems a little emptier and you’ll never be the same again. You’ve been touched by something uncomprehensible. The love of an animal. Whether it’s a dog, cat, bird, reptile… sometimes there is a bond there that nothing else compares to.

Somebody I know online said that animals are cooler than people. I agree. I trust their judgments more than most people I know. Animals are Gods little messengers.  They are pure, unadulterated LOVE. Anyone who has the love of a pet understands this.

Well, years ago, I decided I wanted a Pomeranian. My mom told me years ago a spitz (Related to Pomeranians- they are also sweet  lil fellas and great, tough sled dogs) had saved her sister while young from crossing a road. 

I just liked that they look like little foxes.

Sebastion came to us as a little fur ball…Joe had promised me a Pomeranian at some point and I had seen Poms at the pet store the day before. SO I got up bright n early, went to  the pet shop, and saw this sweet inquisitive face looking up at me, and I couldn’t resist. It’s like he picked me looking at me like that. It was as if he was saying, HEY! I’ve been waiting here a long time. Pick me! Pick ME! Bout time you came!

I called my husband, who was conveniently half asleep and reminded him of his promise. Lucky for me it was Mother’s day weekend. :p So instead of flowers THAT year, I got a little Pom.

I remember for 3 days he hung around me, (Probably cause I stuck him on a leash and he had no choice:p) me weeding the side of the house. I just could NOT think of a name for him. Then on the third day he looked up at me and “Sebastion” just popped into my head. The funny thing was, I looked it up and under Sebastion it said “Majestic”

I sent in his paperwork to the registry…I named him Sebastion Bark.(Like Sebastion Bach…you can roll your eyes now…I did:p) I don’t know why but it made me giggle. I’m kind of a strange breed myself:p

Yeah, that fits a Pomeranian to a T. They strut around like nobody’s business. Even if they aren’t show dogs, in their own mind, they’ve already won a ribbon.:p

Little did I know what was coming. (More to come)

My sweet lil Dog Sebastion died a few days ago.

I am still going to be writing but this is going to take a bit. I'm going to give myself the time I need to work through it. I'm  trying to slowly get out of the funk I'm in. This may take a few days, or more. I'm writing down everything I remember about him so I can do a blog on the lil fella. I am just so exhausted that I'll write a little while and then have to lay down.and go to sleep for a while every time I work on it cause it drains me so. I may not write much until I can pull myself out of this. I know I'm going to be ok. I just need time to mourn for my friend. I hope you understand. Its been a hard, HARD week. But just so you can get a feel for who my lil buddy was..heres a video/pictures we put together with the song "Take A Chance One Me " by ABBA....I think this could have been his theme song:p. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QtzQRq6qSFA

Two negatives make a POSITIVE!

Ug, I had a bad experience at CHURCH of all places.:p I CAN’T stand SELF RIGHTEOUS PEOPLE. Why don’t they go and tell everyone else in the class who is talking to shush.? Not pick on me? Those people are EVERYWHERE.. I’ve been shushed all my life, shushed in my family, and I made a decision that I would NEVER be shushed again.

STOP singling me OUT! Before you shush me, If you think your so self-righteous as to think you can shush me, shush the ENTIRE class. I am WHISPERING for heaven’s sake, and about the LESSON. I am not talking to you; I am talking about personal experiences with a friend.

My husband and I were talking and he had some thoughts that I think are very valid here…

In mathematics a negative times a positive is still negative. But negative times a negative is STILL positive. If you treat me negatively EXPECT it in return and then the WHOLE thing is positive.:P  Two wrongs don’t make a right?  Two wrongs CAN make a right. IT can stop things from happening again. It can make it so some MORON does not CONTINUE to walk on someone else. Saying “two wrongs don’t make a right” is usually  just used to not deal a problem, or people who are afraid to deal with a problem and  for abusers to oppress others, trying to ENSURE there is no resistance. Not that I’m getting away from the golden role, but some USE the golden rule to their own advantage, to allow the oppression  of others.

Put that in your pipe n smoke it!

A lot of abusers get away with WAY too much because of this.

Two wrongs can make a right. STAND up for what you believe in, Stand up for what’s right. EVEN if it’ requires a negative response. Abusers many times use “two wrongs don’t make a right” as an excuse to beat, abuse and hurt and not expect anything in return. But I think it’s really the enablers that perpetuate everything by saying it. They enable the situation to continue by not CONFRONTING the problem – somehow thinking “confrontation is negative” and that “two negatives don’t make a positive”. Even though math, and life don’t necessarily agree. It’s amazing what we can convince ourselves of.

Getting beaten is a negative, ridicule is negative, shushing is negative, gossip is a negative, and imposing your will on someone else is a NEGATIVE. And not standing up to it will never lead to anything good. Negative times a positive will never lead to a positive. So it is in Mathematics, so it is in LIFE.

Gandhi was a good example of this. He did NOT react. But he reacted in a non-violent way that brought about GOOD. People who don’t react end up being rugs that people walk on. If people don’t confront their problems, whether they be individuals, beliefs, or prejudices, things will never get better. Unless God intervenes… and that’s not always the best for everyone. Forces of nature  don’t tend to be much fun, but they do tend to bring people closer together. Hmmmm.

Does that make me a force of nature? Lol Or a force  to be reckoned with? HA!:p

All Play And No Work Make Jane A Dull GIrl

Ok, so it’s a word play on “The Shining”, (Which is a GREAT book, by the way-and NOT the Jack Nickelson version, they TOTALLY ruined the book! The TV version was MUCH better starring Steven Weber, Rebecca De Mornay, Courtland Mead, check it out some Halloween….it really goes into the character, and they are SO much more lovable than that LAME Jack Nicholson version ever was. I HATED that movie. The only redeemable quality in it it’s the “Heres Johnny” part…but oh WAIT! They got that from Stephen Kings BOOK so… meh.. Ok… so not like me…lol now I’m totally off topic…let me take a deep breath and go back …:P)

So if you’re not getting any work done, nothings shining…The furniture, the fridge, the Knives…….muuuuahhahahahah…lol...haha:p

In the book  “Little Women” (Sorry, I’m gonna go all girly on ya for a minute, but it has a good morale.) From the Shining, to Little women. Man this is a twisted blog :p

The women in the book decide on an experiment for a week. One character Meg decides she’s going to “Lie abed late. Jo decided to read, and Beth, Ava and the other girls all decided to not do any lessons, but play all the time and rest, if mother doesn’t mind” (Their poor mother:p)

Their mother being wise said “You may try your experiment for a week and see how you like it. You may find that all play and no work is as bad as all work and no play”

They all toasted each other. “Fun forever and NO grubbing” Cried Jo!

Little by little they realize it’s NOT fun. The entire house ends up in a pigsty, no one has to do dishes even though they are piling up, Everyone is grumpy because they are bored, Jo gets a headache from reading too much, One girl reverts to stuffing a mess under the couch, and Saturday morning one of the girls finds their pet canary is stone cold DEAD because…nobody FED the poor thing. (DUH!)

And their mother is mysteriously absent Saturday morning. Taking a “break “for the day she says. No fire in the hearth, no breakfast ready, no food out for supper.

In the end they all realize how awful things are when everybody doesn’t help out. Their mom teaches them an important lesson. Nothing goes right when people are only thinking of themselves. ESPECIALLY when it comes to work.

Many hands make light work isn’t just a phrase, it’s the TRUTH.

And if you are thinking well. "Cleaning is women’s work", (Shame on you…lol) you are sadly mistaken dear reader. My husband and I have become so much closer through working TOGETHER than working apart. I remember Joe and I used to go at it....him about work, I about all I did, it it was some kind of twisted competition to see who did more. It shouldn't be that way.

A few minutes ago I was thinking about our fights way back when on it and I realized we haven’t had that age old fight that I bet MANY people have (Or don’t because there are some people who don’t speak up, but are still bitter about it) that that so many men and women have. FOR YEARS.  “I do all this” “Well, I do all that” it’s a ridiculous battle.

When we first married I started small. I told Joe that if he left stuff out, he would find it under the bed. Made for a lot of lost socks lol. At my house NOW  we have a routine. I can't believe it took me 16 years to figure this out. When I first started the routine Joe threw a fit, but now he’s totally into it.The routine is....Wed morning, when I get up, I undo the sheets on the bed on my side (NOW Joe does the other side) Then Joe brings them to the washer where I get it going. AND he brings down the clothes hamper (That is all his doing now, I used to always do that part, I never asked him to but he does, it’s pretty cool:))But I get the laundry done, on the washer, dryer side of it and I bring it upstairs) By the time he’s done with work all the laundry’s on our bench, along with the stuff to make the bed. SO we make the bed, together. Then we put the laundry on the bed and sort it while we watch TV. Together.

First time I did this when he came home to it he was really angry and threw a fit but now, to his credit, he really helps, and he could have been a jerk and refused to. To his credit, he was a real man and did what needed to be done. In the end, its not the flowers, the presents and the promises. (Though all that is nice) Its the CONTINUOUS help that women crave, and men who help instead of just sitting around watching tv or being selfish and not helping just makes for a bitter, overworked wife.

Working together is really good us time and time to talk. Thursday I get up especially early and do all the cleaning of the house except for the vacuuming. Then Joe gets up (around 5 or 7 am) and does the vacuuming, starting with my yoga room so I can do yoga while he’s vacuuming.

Then the weekend is OURS!

The only thing that’s always left to do every day is the dishes. At my house EVERYONE does their OWN. After we’ve eaten, everyone (In our case now, just the two of us, but my daughter did when she was home) washes off their own plate. After all the person who ate off it made the mess so why not just be fair and clean the thing off and out of messes’ way. (I know it’s harder with teenagers though. I had to CONTINUALLY remind my daughter, UG!) Put it in the dishwasher till its full, then Joe and I take out the dishes together. We have a system for that too. I do the top, he does the bottom, and when were sick, we help each other out by whoever isn't as sick taking them out but we still do our own dishes.

As to cooking, a lot of times I do it all in one shot,(Not always) but I make good food. Fettuccini, Ziti, Beef stroganoff and THai Tom Kai Gai are some of what I make. When I'm done cooking the bulk of the food we put it all into little bowls and stick some in the fridge, some in the freezer. The house smells AMAZING. Then together we do the clean up.

Sundays we make pancakes together, with fresh blueberries (I like bananas in mine with the blueberies. Theres a great store called Winco that has the most amazing 10 grain pancake mix in bulk, If you have one, go try it out:) We like it better than buttermilk pancakes which is werid, I've NEVER liked 10 grain pancakes before.)

I FINALLY feel like we are PARTNERS, and that I am not my husband’s maid. It makes for a happy house. It REALLY isn't fair for the woman to do all the work. I complained for years instead of being proactive and it got me NOWHERE, just miserable.

All it took was me being proactive:) That changed everything.

I have learned that in life, EVERYTHING takes being proactive. Life was not meant to just sit back and complain about, it was meant to be LIVED, explored, boldly going where no man ever has;) and CHALLENGING ourselves, seeing what we are capable of. And if the little things get in the way, (Like laundry…lol)  how will we get where we need to go? We NEED each other. We need to help each other.  TO INSPIRE each other. To let a person know that the things they are trying to do in life are important.

Again….Many hands make light work.

It might be uncomfortable for a while, because people aren’t happy   that they actually have to HELP.

In my mind if you’re getting your kids to help, ESPECIALLY the boys, it teaches them a good lesson. Any mom who does not teach their sons to help around the house is doing a disservice to the women that their sons marry, in my opinion. The women who don't have their sons help are basically telling them it’s ok for a women to do all the work. In essence, unwittingly, that women make good maids. I don’t think that’s a good lesson.

Women were meant to be a man’s  EQUAL, their PARTNER, not a servant.

 It makes for a MUCH better, happier house, all the way around, in the long term.

(Ok, back to your noramlly scheduled program...lol...I'll get back to my normal blogs now, I still have to finish my moms journal at some point. A friend just had a blog about cleaning and it got my wheels turning)