Archive for July, 2012


This is part 2 to my doggy series. I am much less sad today and therefore today’s post should be tear free. I just wanted to tell a story about my weird wonderful doggy to honor his memory.

On Monday we were at the animal emergency place for the second time in Gordo’s life. The first time was 6 years ago and was the setting for one of my favorite stories of all time.

Our little baby Gordo was about 3 months old and about 20 pounds. We actually named him Gordo because he was so fat. As a puppy, when he would lay down on the floor, his skin would lay on the floor next to him. And, as you know, labs are about the cutest puppies in the world- so you can imagine how adorable this little dog was.

It was about 9 pm on a random Monday night (I remember because 24 was on) and Brent and I were winding down for the night. I’m half asleep on the couch and I notice that Gordo is acting funny. He is on his doggy pillow with his head buried in his crotch. I watch for a second thinking he’s going to stop, but he doesn’t. I yell to get his attention, he looks at me for a second, then gets back to business licking himself. This goes on for a couple more minutes before I walk over there to see if there is a cut or some kind of irritation. What I was not expecting was a big puppy boner! It was out there baby!

So, I tell Brent while laughing, “You have got to see this.” He comes over and casually said, “Just leave him alone, he’ll stop”. Well, 5 more minutes go by and he is still licking and ‘it’ is still out. Now I tell Brent that I am starting to get worried. He tells me I’m nuts. My argument is that if the comercials say that it is bad for men to have an erection too long, than maybe it’s bad for dogs too. I don’t know- this is my first doggy-hard-on-related-issue.

Fast forward 10 more minutes it’s still going on and now the dog is clearly in pain. Of course this happens when the vet’s office is closed so I really have no idea what to do. I looked in the phone book and found a number to the animal emergency center and proceeded to make the most awkward phone call of my life: “Um, hi. I have a 3 month old puppy with an…er….a… erection that won’t go away. I don’t know what to do.” The lady responds in a clearly irritated voice, “Ma’am, just leave the dog alone, take away his toys and he’ll stop humping.” I try to explain that he’s not humping but she clearly isn’t concerned so I hang up.

Fast forward another 15 minutes and I can’t take it anymore. I call back (this time way tougher): “Hi, remember me? Puppy- erection? Yeah, he still has one!” This time I can tell she’s surprised and puts me on hold to talk to the doctor. She gets back on the phone and tells me to come in- quickly.

We race to the hospital, I am in the back seat cradling my little baby. We bring the dog in and the waiting room is full of people. Everyone looks up and sees this adorable little puppy and I swear they all said, “Awweee” simultaneously. Then Brent makes an awkward hand off to me and exposes Gordo’s ‘situation’ and I swear they all went, “GOO!”. That’s probably what I have made up in my head over the years, but still…

Next thing I know the vet is telling me they have to sedate the dog to fix the problem and they have to put some kind of cream on the penis to shrink it down so the skin will go back over it. And, I am not making this part up, he says “You know how when you put sugar on strawberries and the berries shrink, it’s like the same thing.” Okay…

Well they fix the problem and bring our baby back out to us and we can check out. $400 later we have a healthy puppy, some anti-biotics to prevent infection, and a cream medication. The vet tech explains that the cream is to be applied directly to the member 2x daily. Using her fingers to demonstrate, she shows us how to push back the skin to expose the penis and rub the cream on. Brent looks at me and says, “I’ll do the pills, you do the cream.”

That was the last time we had any boner problems with Gordo. He always was a little strange though. For example, he never mounted another dog to hump them. It was almost like he was too polite. He was just quietly hump the air next to the dog of interest. It was hilarious. We have many friends that would laugh out loud every time he did this.

The things we do for our damn dogs! Love you always Gordo. I hope you’re air humping in doggy heaven right now. 🙂

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Bye bye Buddy

Disclaimer: This is Part 1 and this post is a little sad. It is about losing my dog. I had to do one serious post to get thru some of my sadness. Part 2 will be a funny story about my dog to make you laugh.

This is my dog Gordo. He wasn’t just our family dog; he wasn’t just our first dog; he was the thing that first made me and Brent a family. We got him 6 + years ago and he is what made 2 unmarried people who lived together ‘a family’. Just the 3 of us. Well over the years the 3 of us turned into 4 and then 5. We were a post card for what a family looks like: Mom, Dad, Boy, Girl, and Yellow lab.

Gordo was the best family dog you could ever ask for. He was gentle and loving and easy. He was never high-maintenance or demanding, just there to love you. He only asked that occasionaly you would throw the ball for him and feed him (a lot).

Well all good things come to an end as they say. Yesterday we had to say goodbye to our buddy. It was very sad and very sudden. Apparently sometimes with large breed animals, their stomachs twist or flip. Unfortunately, the doctor didn’t know if it was even possible to save the stomach because of the amount of damage that was done. So, we decided to take away his pain and say goodbye. Earlier in the day before I could get him to the vet he climbed into the bath tub and laid down. He gave me a look like he just wanted to lay down and die. He was in a lot of pain and there was nothing I could do for him. This dog that would do anything for us… too sad to even write.

Anyway, we made the hardest decision ever, and let him go. I pretty much spent the next 8 hours crying. I never thought I would be that emotional. I’m still crying as I’m writing this and its 26 hours later. We also had to tell our little boy (he’s 4) that his dog wasn’t coming home. If there is 1 blessing out of all of this is that the kids are too young to understand. We just told him that some times doggies get very very sick and the only way to make them feel better is to put them to sleep and that Gordo would not come home anymore. I don’t know if we handled that well or not. He seemed okay with the news.

The hardest thing about losing a pet that you have had for so long is the habits or the sub-conscious triggers. I can’t even hear the back door open without thinking about him. His food and bowls are still sitting in the laundry room. There is still dog hair all over my floor.

With Gordo gone, who is going to knock Ellie over as she is learning to walk over the next couple months? Who is going to trip me in the middle of the night on my way to the bathroom? Who is going to scare the crap out of the girl scouts that ring the doorbell? Who is going to bark like a maniac when the doorbell rings on TV comercials? Who is going to wake me up with his hot breath on my face every morning? Brent?

Gordo was such a weird and wonderful dog. He loved to fetch, eat, and swim like a normal lab. He also loved to have his butt scratched and roll around in dirt. He was a crazy SOB and I can’t even explain how much we will miss him. My heart hurts.

This is my classified ad for what’s missing in my life. No offense to current lady friends. I’m just a little weird. For some reason I am more comfortable around men and tend to like traditional ‘male’ activities more than ‘female’ ones.

It all started when my husband was going on his annual ‘Man Weekend’. This consists of a bunch of dudes going up north for a weekend to drink beer, sit around a fire, golf thru the woods, drink beer, sleep in a cabin, drink beer, and come home smelly. This should NOT sound like a good time to a girl, but that is exactly what I want to do on a weekend get-a-way! Needless to say, I was jealous. I was a bit of a whiner. Shocking, I know.

Well, my husband is pretty great and encouraged me to plan my own weekend get-a-way with my girlfriends. However, my girlfriends would not want to do that. Don’t get me wrong, I know I can talk them into a girls trip; I just can’t talk them into one with beers, woods, and no showers. They would rather stay at a bed and breakfast, do a spa day, maybe some shopping, nice dinner, and wine. I don’t blame them. They are the normal ones. I remember last year my friend called me to invite me to go antiquing with all the wives on Sunday while the boys watched football. I had to politely try to explain that I would rather sit around with a bunch of dudes watching football and drinking beer than shopping. (I like to shop, but only by myself. Girls take too long.)

I’m sure my friends get mad at me. They probably should. It’s not that I don’t love girls, I do! I love my friends. I just feel like I fit in better with men.

But, here’s the problem: a married woman can’t hang out with dudes all the time, it’s weird. Can you imagine leaving my husband home with the kids while I go on a man weekend? Yeah right. I can hang out with my husband and his friends (my friends too) but I’m sure they want some time away from chicks, and then we have to get a sitter. I have a guy friend that I have known since I was 14, but it would be weird if the 2 of us went out for a bite to eat and drinks.

Sometimes I wonder if there is something wrong with me, but then I get over it. Why dwell on it? Just because I am different doesn’t mean I’m wrong. I shouldn’t try to do things when I know I won’t enjoy it. Life is too short.

So, my only solution is to try to find some women that also like to drink and gamble and watch sports and play bags and communicate only by texts. That should be a piece of cake, right?

The People of Facebook

These are the people of FB. Now, to be clear, these are not all a bad thing. I don’t know what I would do without some of you dear friends that are also Moms, or drunks, or stalkers.

1. The Addict: This is the person who checks their phone in the middle of the night when it beeps because they can’t wait 4 hours to see who ‘liked’ their comment about Obamacare. This person can’t get through the day without re-charging their phone.

2. The Party Girl/Drunk Guy: This person is hilarious. Every picture of the party girl is one of her at a bar, with a drink in her hand either- a. yelling woo-hoo, b. throwing a fake-white-surbuban-girl-gang-sign (tongue out), or c. or grinding with one of her girl-friends on the dance floor. The drunk guy is reliable for the random posts at 1am about the BEST SONG EVER MADE, or how tonight was ‘epic’, or how’ stoopid biatches be trping at the bar 2nite’, etc. You  know who you are. No offense-you entertain me.

3. The Self Portrait Artist: Ooh, is that a new picture of you sitting at your desk? Is that a picture of you in front of the mirror? Is that a new t-shirt or just a close up of your boobs? It’s one thing to post pictures of you and other people, or a picture someone else took, but it’s a little weird when you are just turning your phone around to take yet another picture of yourself and then sharing it with your 400 closest friends.

4. The Mom: Okay, guilty! I know. This is me. I know that a lot of you don’t want to see an update on my kids latest developmental milestone every day. Well, you can suck it. The Mom posts things like, “Man, my baby just wants to breast feed all day!” “Look at my baby, isn’t she precious?” You gotta see the baaabbbyyy!

5. The Drama Seeker/Attention Whore: I have talked about this person before. You know the person that leaves vague whiny FB posts constantly? Either leave the details or don’t post anything! No more, “OMG, back to the ER!” or “Got the worst news at work today!” Don’t go fishing for concern on FB. And so help me god, if I hear one more person complain about ‘all the drama’ I will lose my shit.

6. The Self Promoter: I am a little (okay, a lot) guilty here too, but you know these people. They have 4,329 friends and are always promoting a business or something else they support. I don’t blame them though, in this day and age, this is probably the best media for it.

7. The Stalker: There are two types of stalkers. The first is the more traditional stalker that is constantly keeping tabs on ex-girlfriends, unrequited love, etc. The second is the person that is constantly on FB and sees everything, but never posts anything themselves. They are just on to read what everyone else has to say. Nothing gets past them.

8. The Work-out Post-er: This person has never worked out with telling everyone they know. ‘I just crushed that 9 miler! What did you do this morning?’ We get it, you are really in shape. We get it, you’re not hung-over like we are.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

9. The Idiot: This person is probably a little bit of everything from this list, but what truly makes them an idiot is that think there are no consequences for what they post. They post offensive things, pictures that shouldn’t be shared, way too personal of information. I tell you right now, there are some of you that I would NOT hire if I were in a position to do so. Come on people, once it goes on the web, it never comes down. There are nerds out there (way smarter than you) that can find it and it could come back to haunt you.

10. Oh, and Your Mom!

I’m a domestic goddess

My home an oiled machine

Just like Martha Stewart

Except I only cook, not clean

 

My house is never tidy

But I have happy kids

Laundry piles up

My tupperware- never lids!

 

We run around like maniacs

I cannot keep it straight

I never use my calendar

Too much on my plate

 

I love my kids and husband

Simple joys of motherhood

I rock heels with my diaper bag

I make moms look good!

 

I think my husband’s sexy

and he thinks I am too

I’m a mother AND a wife

Career? You know I do

 

I’m a domestic goddess

Like I previously said

The song said it best

Lady in the street; freak in the bed!

As a parent, you have a vision for your kids. You have a dream that you want for your family and for your children. I thought I would share my hopes and dreams for my little angels.

Dear Will and Ellis,

  • I hope you never pass up an opportunity to be kind. I hope that you care about your fellow-man. I hope that when you see pain, suffering, and injustice that it makes you sad. I hope you never become desensitized to the world that we live in. I hope you never forget that every life has value.
  • I hope that you like yourself. I hope that you have the confidence and strength to know yourself, trust yourself, and listen to yourself no matter what everyone else is saying. I hope that you will have the courage to make up your own mind and the determination to speak your mind when it matters.
  • I hope that you love each other. There are very few bonds like that of siblings. I hope that you realize all the arguing you are going to do is trivial and I hope that you remain best friends for life.
  • I hope you fall madly in love with books and learning. I hope that you study something that excites you and I hope you work in a field that doesn’t feel like work.
  • I hope that some day soon you will learn in school about how there USED to be discrimination against homosexuals. I hope that the country that you grow up in will open their eyes and realize that all people have the right to love each other.
  • I hope that you laugh a lot. I hope that your life is filled with joy. I hope that you are able to appreciate how great life is and all that you have. I hope that you are grateful for each and every blessing in your life and never take anything for granted.
  • I hope you remember how much mommy and daddy love you and that nothing will ever change that. I hope you know that you can tell us anything and we always be there for you.

Love,

Mom

I think it’s important to know what you want for your kids. I also think it is important to stay focused on your dreams. If you focus on what you want, you’ll recognize when you are moving in the wrong direction. What dreams do you have for you kids?

 

 

I realized something last week- I’m old. I don’t really mean this in a bad way. I am 30. It’s not like I need to have a crisis or anything. I am just a little bit old.

What happened was, I was looking on Facebook and realized there were like 15 big 4th of July parties that were going on. There were posts everywhere between mostly my high school and college friend about who was going where to do what. I quickly realized that I was invited to zero of these parties.

At first this made me sad. I started to mourn my younger self who was always invited to parties and always had a blast. After I got past the sadness I moved on to anger and resentment: “What, now that I have kids I’m no longer invited anywhere? Just because I haven’t been out in a while everyone just forgets to include me?” Mind you, this lasted approximately 30 seconds before I came to my senses.

What I realized shortly after that is – I would have said ‘no’. And, I wouldn’t have said no because I didn’t have a sitter, or because I was too busy, I would have said no because I wouldn’t have wanted to go. Simple as that. I would have made an excuse, but bottom line, a giant party in the city doesn’t appeal to me anymore. The traffic is terrible, where do you park, how do you get home or where do you sleep? etc. And THAT is when I realized- I’m old. That sounds exhausting!

Now don’t get me wrong, I love to be with friends and I love to have a good time, but I like it to be convenient. I am really f-ing busy! I don’t like to have to stress out about weekend plans too. I have enough on my plate. Is it too much to ask that I never have to leave my house and all of my friends will always come to me? Okay, maybe that’s too much. But maybe we can stick to Lake County, and only go to places with adequate parking. Oh, and I never want to worry about driving.

I like sleeping next to my husband in my own bed, with a glass of water next to me on the nightstand. If this means I’m old, I guess I don’t want to be young again. Oh well, another chapter closes. Although I will say that so far I have liked 30 more than 20. We’ll see how the next 10 years play out.

 

Wow, did I have fun yesterday! My sister and I and some of our friends decided to do the Dirty Girl Mud Run. We signed up months ago, didn’t have a clue what to expect, and boy did we get dirty. For those of you who are unfamiliar, it is a 5k distance with 12 obstacles along the way. You have to scale a wall, crawl thru muddy water, climb a net, and much more. Overall, a pretty good time.

I was an athlete in high school. Like, in ridiculously good shape, played 3 sports- athlete! After highschool came college. During college came the freshmen 10 (followed by the sophomore 10, the junior 10, and the senior 10). Thank god I graduated in 4 years! It was funny though, even though I had  completely stopped working out and literally gained 40 pounds, I still thought of my self as an athlete. I obviously wasn’t. If you can’t run a mile, you are not an athlete. 

I had a wake up call a while back when I did a body fat percentage test. I was 29% fat! That is crazy! Granted my baby was only 7 months old, but I had lost all the baby weight so I did not expect that. I was almost 1/3 fat. Combine that with my doctor’s lecture about exercise: “Women don’t wake up 40 and fat, they spend their 30’s getting that way.” I love my doctor; she tells it like it is. That was the stimulus I needed to start exercising.

Fast forward 4 months and I finished the Dirty Girl Mud Run! Not only did I finish, but I ran the whole thing, completed all the obstacles and felt good when I was done. Last night I was already googling other races that I can do. Me and my husband want to do the warrior dash next year and I’m pretty sure my team will come back for more dirty fun.

The Dirty Girl run had a pretty cool vibe too. It was women of all ages and fitness levels. Everyone was helping everyone out. Strangers were helping each other over the walls, nets, and encouraging each other. It was nice to see that camaraderie. For me the goal was to finish strong. I didn’t want the run to kick my butt and it didn’t. For other women it was to just finish. What I did not expect is that for the first time in a long time I felt like an athlete. I enjoyed challenging my body. I enjoyed being competitive. I truly know that the only thing limiting me is myself. There is nothing I can’t do. My highschool self KNEW this. I don’t know why my grown up self forgot.

Getting in shape just seemed so hard. It seemed like too much work. The problem is that before you start, you assume you are going to hate every moment. But, once you get started, you enjoy the process. Now don’t get me wrong, I am not claiming to be the next fitness super-model. I realize I still have a long way to go and I will never be perfect. I enjoy beer and bread way too much.

It’s weird, for the first time in my life I thought about how great it will be to run this fall when the weather cools down a bit. What?! Me? Look forward to running? I never thought that day would come. It just goes to show you that you never know. You just have to start and see where it takes you. I feel like I can say that ‘I am an athlete’ again.