liza thinks

No one told me . . .

There are so many things that no one told me about pregnancy and it's long-term effects. (And, by this, I don't mean the long-term effects that are eating their Cheerios right now -- I did know about them . . . mostly!). I don't even mean the long-term effects of having your stomach muscles cut open in order to remove two children. I kind of figured there'd be some.

What I mean is . . .

who would have thought I would stop liking burn your nose hairs hot food. My days of eatingjalopenos just for the fun of it are longgone.

There are others but what got me going this morning is the joy that is my gag reflex. You kind of expect to throw up during pregnancy -- it's just one of the things that seems to come with the territory. But, seriously, my youngest will be six next week. Do I still need to gag every single morning when I take my vitamin pill? Seriously?

Our old house . . .

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Our old house is for sale. Amazing. Neat to see it. They changed it somewhat but not too much. We did so much work on that house -- I wish they had filmed every room! I also cannot believe how awful the ad copy is. How revolting.

-llm.

Thoughts

Loving my children is something that I knew I would do but had no idea what it would be, what it would take from me, what it would cost me, nor, of course, what it would give to me. Love for your children is not somethingyou can anticipate in any meaningful way.

Last night as I was driving in my car runningerrands late at night and gettingsome much needed alone time at the same time (mothers who multi-task!), I was thinkingabout the situation I'm in with Gander, my youngblack labrador. Before children, my main timesink was raising, showing, and occasionally breedinglabradors. When we had the kids, they became my major time-sink and I eventually placed all but my oldest dogs and they had been dyingoff. Two years ago, as a stay-at-home-mom, I thought I'd have time finally to raise another dog and start again.

But it was not to be -- my time wasn't my own, our financial situation worsened and I needed to look for work which eventually led me to goingback to school and working at the same time, and Gander has canine epilepsy. So, he has not been the dogI hoped for and now I'm facing a hard decision -- or rather, a hard action. The decision is made. Gander needs to go back to his breeder. The seizures are just not somethingI can handle -- each one is worse and worse for me. I truly hate goingthrough this -- and, yes, I'd imag ine its much harder on him.

It is hard for me to face this situation for so many reasons. I love Gander and don't want to lose him. At the same time, he represents a bigdream for me that I'm not going to get to follow -- at least not now. Mr Wonderful and I have talked about our next dognot being a labrador. I can't imag ine NOT having a labrador in my life and yet there are so many things that have been difficult in having the labs that perhaps another breed would be a better match for us. But there is so much STUFF wrapped up in this decision -- I feel like I'm failingGander and I feel like I'm giving up a bigdream of mine. I'm not sure what to do about these feelings but I know it's time to take action. I'm giving myself a deadline -- I will call Gander's breeder this week and talk to her. It's time.

Hard as it is to face, it's time.

Credit: Liza Lee Miller, 15 September 2003

This picture feels very appropriate to me today. I'm feelingderailed and frustrated which is unusual because I've gotten quite a bit done today and I'm moving forward on my list for the week. I think it's worry about school coming up (not the school I teach but the school I'm taking). It seems that despite my best efforts, financial aid got all messed up and I owe the school a chunk of money. This is unexpected and not good news. I have to call and confirm that today but Mr Wonderful isn't going to be happy. Heck, neither am I. But, it'll have to be dealt with and I'll feel more like moving forward when it is done. But, it's aggravating and the kind of thingI'd like to ignore until it goes away. But it won't so I'd better get on it. Sigh.

I'm really looking forward to taking my walk today. And, the weather last night said we'll have clear skies and warm weather the rest of the week. I hope that's right. We need some drying out days.

-llm.

MOONWATCHING

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Trying to find something positive about my period.

This month its a bad one -- painful, profuse. I feel sluggish and drowsy. Despite my energetic walk today I basically want to hunker down under my down comforter with lots of Scharffen Berger Milk Chocolate and read and sleep in front of the fire. The weather isn't helping me at all to deal with this mood. It's been raining steadily all day. I'm reading
Under the Tuscan Sun which despite it's titular juxtaposition with the weather I'm experiencing is a good book for my mood.

I feel the urge to get a blue book and record all there is to know and do and feel about my house. Despite the fact that it's not an ancient farmhouse in the hills of Tuscany.

But that would require effort and I'm not sure I can put forth any effort today.

Remembering

This week, I've been hearingabout the helicopter crash in Afghanistan. It's been really hard for me to think about it -- Mr Wonderfuland I have been makingan effort to turn off the news. Too many bad memories. On September 26, 1975, my father, Jack Lloyd Donaldson, was killed in a helicopter crash in West Germany. He was a major in the Air Force. Needless to say, that was the worst day of my life. I won't go into all the details but they are definitely memories that I prefer not to relive. I feel so badly for those families! I quite literally know what they are facing.

The Story of Hopper and

The Story of Hopper and the Birthday Cake

When I was younger, before I had children, I was actively showing dogs
in conformation shows (beauty pageants for the uninitiated). Our big
show for Labradors -- my breed -- usually fell on the weekend after my
birthday. This particular year, my mother-in-law made my favorite cake
. . . chocolate rum cake. It's a decadant and yummy bundt cake with
icingdrizzled over the top that is made from rum and sugar. The cake
is delish and gives you a nice warm feeling from all the rum. Well,
she sent the leftover cake home with me and I planned to take it to the
dogshow. Now, dog shows are early affairs. I typically get the car
loaded and packed the night before and lay out my clothes so all I have
to do -- in the pre-dawn dark -- is get dressed and load my dogs in the
car. I did leave the cake on the kitchen counter this time to carry
out as well.

Hopper was a beautiful black Labrador who was rescued from the pound
and came to live with me to keep my obnoxious young male company. It
worked beautifully except that Hopper was about five years old and had
no house manners at all (ie. she wasn't house broken and didn't
understand about keepingoff the furniture -- you know, like the dining
room table! She got her name when I watched her "hop" right up there
for a quick peek out the window). She tried to be good but didn't
always manage it.

So, it shouldn't have come as a great surprise when I crept out to the
kitchen to load up my cake and hit the road that things in the kitchen
were not as they should be. Near as I can tell, Hopper dumped the cake
on the ground and ate it . . . all of it. Then, she -- evidently
feeling the rum a bit -- knocked several other items down off the
counter including the glass butter dish. There wasn't a smidge of
butter left on the shards of glass which gave me the willies. Then, in
a fit of overindulgence in both boozey cake and butter, she peed on the
kitchen floor (she was quite well housebroken by this time in her life,
mind you). So, that's the scene that greets me . . . chocolate cake
and glass shards in a pool of dog pee on my kitchen floor as I'm trying
to sneak out of the house at 4:30 am. Lovely. And, I just couldn't
leave it for my husband to find as he loves the dogs and loves me and
indulges me by letting me have so many so I had to stop -- dressed in a
nice dress, hose, and full makeup -- and clean up this gawdawful mess.

The only thing I wish was that I could have seen the hangover that must
have followed. Wretched girl.

Hopper has been gone for 2 years now and she was the best dog I've ever
had -- so far :) I miss her dreadfully -- even though this wasn't the
ONLY time she trashed my house. But that's a story for another time
and at least, poor dear, she wasn't the one intoxicated in that one.