Just say No

No, this isn't a diatribe on drugs.  It's really about sanity and keeping it.  This year I have tried to say, "No," with great frequency.  While this might not seem like a positive statement it really is.  Saying, "No" to volunteer opportunities, extra-curriculars and even music lessons and a lot of enrichment activities for my son is actually saying, "yes" to time at home, time to spend as a family and time to rejuvenate.

In this time of "FOMO" (Fear of Missing Out), sometimes it's good to miss out.  Sometimes, because I'm a helpful person and people are aware of this, it has been hard for me to say no, especially when friends are in a jam.  (Depending on the friend, the nature of the issue and how helpful I might be, I might say, "yes").  I've told myself, "if I say "No," I'm giving someone else the opportunity to say, "Yes."  Someone who is maybe shy or reluctant to step out and normally assumes that people like me will just do it.

This saying, "No" has been especially helpful and yet hard at Advent.  Go to Christmas concert or go to holiday event at zoo?  My husband has been helpful in my life to slow me down.  My husband and son are definitely introverts, and they need their down time.  I have become that way more and more over the years.  I don't know if I'm a natural introvert, or if over 12 years of having to play nice with people who aren't so nice at work, (you know, those people who push your buttons, who just try to do things to get a rise out of you by treating you poorly) has made me into an introvert.  We all need quiet time and we all need some time at home to enjoy with our family.

My family has said, "No" to Elf on the Shelf, even though my kid told me everyone in his class has an elf.  Instead we have multiple Advent calendars and incorporate prayer into our Advent.  This is our family culture and we are fine saying "No" to some stuff.

I like to remember that we have Epiphany and the stuff I wasn't able to get done before December 25th, can still happen after Epiphany.  We organize "Epiphany Caroling" at a retirement home every Epiphany.  Everyone in our Lay Dominican group enjoys it and it's a lot easier on everyone's schedule to do an event in January rather than squeezing something more into December.

Figure out what's important to your family, give yourself grace when you aren't able to do things you wanted to.  As a matter of fact, we normally put up 3 wreaths on our front windows every year.  I got a wreath on the main window and told my husband the others may not happen.  I told him, "That's the frosting, it's not necessary if it's going to stress us out (it involves taking screens out of third story windows).  He told me, "I like the frosting,"  I told him, "I'll go without frosting if it means going without cranky."

We will see if I ever do get the wreaths up, our son won't remember that, but he will remember if mommy and daddy were cranky and I'm fine saying "No" if it means saying "yes" to sanity.  Give yourself grace if you didn't get everything done this year and focus on what is important.


It occurred to me as I was lamenting that no matter how much I plan and chop from my to do list, I still don’t have the house as ready as I want or the cookies baked and the gifts prepared.
Mary and Joseph weren’t really physically ready for Jesus- I mean they didn’t have a hotel reservation and she gave birth in a manger.   That didn’t matter though.  They were spiritually ready and God took care of the rest.

Though we may not be physically ready, let’s pray for spiritual readiness and the grace to have open hearts this Christmas season.

Purple Light and unsolicited advice

The other day as I was leaving the gym, a boy about 3 years old came running by me with his mother hollering behind him.  His mom was pushing a stroller with a baby and had no hope of keeping up.  It didn't look like the boy was being disobedient, just an energetic 3 year old.

I slowed down and turned to him and said, "it sounds like your mommy wants you to come back."  The mother was rushing to get him and thanked me for keeping him from running into the busy parking lot.  I turned to her and said, "you know what really used to work for my son?"  I could see the eyes rolling in the back of her head, like "great, I have to hear some unwanted advice."  I knew if my husband was there he would chide me for giving unwanted advice, but I continued.  "We did red light, green light," her eyes told me she had tried that before, and there may have even been a sigh.  "But we had a purple light."  She was now intrigued.  "Purple light means, come back and give me a hug."  She smiled.  She liked that, she said.  I told her, "It's hard for kids and adults to get a red light, but a purple light is fun."  She told her son.  He started to run and then she said, "Purple light" and he ran back to her and gave her a hug.

A little later as I walked back to my car, I heard the little boy call "Purple light" on his own and run back to his mom and give her a hug.  She gave me a big thank you and said, "Wow, thanks so much, this is life-changing."  Unsolicited advice is not always bad...  When you feel the urge to share something helpful, remember if given in a non-judgemental and sympathetic way, it could just be "life-changing"

You should say thank you to me...

I ran a tough marathon this year.  It was the second one of my life and quite likely the last.  It was my longest marathon and the toughest weather.  I jokingly called it my first triathalon, and that's not far from the truth.  I believe it was the remnants of a tropical storm we ran through.  Rain for 6 hours, wind and general misery, before clearing up and finishing with sunny skies and temps in the 70's.  Don't worry, I won't post pictures of my close to 30 blisters, but they were definitely there- and painful.

I had totally wanted to quit.  The weather was miserable and my body wasn't doing much better than the weather.  I didn't think I was going to make the cut-off times where they cut your marathon short if you don't keep up to a certain pace.  When I thought about quitting, though, I recalled how my husband and son sacrificed so much time for me to be gone for my training.  It had probably been great for their relationship and bonding to do all sorts of things without me when I was training, but it was nevertheless sacrifice for them.  I didn't want to quit.  I knew if I didn't make it, they w
ould understand, but I knew that I wanted my son to see me persevere.  Because, after all, much of life is perseverance.  I prayed on that marathon, I offered up and I rejoiced when I finished.  I ran with a friend who is about a foot taller than me and finished about an hour and a half before me (I told her I didn't feel bad about this disparity, especially when we discovered what had taken her 55,000 steps to finish took me 72,000; the disadvantage of short legs...)

I had planned ahead for recovery, right down to the Epsom Salts, scheduling a massage and cleaning out the bath tub.  I did NOT plan for what happened when I got home.

I had told my husband I didn't want to stop for a meal post-marathon because I was afraid if I sat down, I wouldn't be able to get back up.  My husband and son got some food and joined us back in the car for the half hour ride home.

We got home and I struggled up our townhouse steps (nothing like an extra flight of stairs).  I was already envisioning my hot bath.  I went to open the door and discovered- it was locked.

Apparently, my husband had tried to take a nap after he dropped my friend and I off at the race and he didn't realize that my son had messed with the internal lock on our door.  He had locked the door from the inside.  Both "keys" we had for the door did not seem to work.  The twisty-tie I had used previously in situations like this were in my bedroom.  I was pretty much in shock and my feet felt like I was walking on hot coals.  I did not yell at my son, but he could tell how exhausted and frustrated I was.  He told me he was sorry.  I told him I forgave him but I still needed to open our door.  I kept from saying things out of anger that could have easily happened.  I knew he had made a mistake and I knew that speaking in anger, frustration and exasperation was not going to help anyone.

My friend suggested I just take a hot shower in the guest bathroom and I explained that would work, but I needed clothes and they were in my room.  I considered whether I could climb up to the bedroom from the second floor porch and than contemplated that even if the windows were unlocked it would be a really bad idea to put my dilapidated body on a ladder.

I asked my son to bring me a stool.  I couldn't stand any longer.  I messed with the door for a while and my husband offered to kick the door down.  I told him I had previous experience with that and it's way more expensive than calling a locksmith.  I can only imagine how dejected I looked.  My son sat a little bit away from me and fortunately realized that silence was necessary.  My husband came with a grocery store card and was finally able to open the door.

We all sighed with relief.  Then my son came over with a smile- "You should say thank you to me."  I looked at him and annunciated slowly- "Oh, I could say a lot of things to you right now, but thank you is not one of them."

Then I said, "why do you think I should say thank you?"  He replied, "because it was thanks to my prayers that the door be opened that it opened."  I think I managed an "Oh, I see."

As we celebrate this time of year and express gratefulness, I think of how many situations do we get into where it's really difficult to find room for gratitude.  Think of the times where maybe you think prayers are like a vending machine, you put coins(prayers) in and you get goodies out.  Sure, that happens sometimes.  But sometimes it feels like the Kit Kat you asked for isn't working and you get a protein and fiber bar instead.  I find myself wanting to bang the machine and tell me to give me what I asked for.  Never thinking that maybe I needed that protein and fiber bar.

That door getting locked and that frustration taught me two things- I'm more patient than I thought I was and my son can teach me a thing or two about having faith in answered prayers and for that, I'm grateful.

God's Wildest Wonderment of All

God's Wildest Wonderment of All by Paul Thigpen and beautiful illustrations by John Folley is a wonderful book exploring the uniqueness and gifts of all of God's creatures and especially the dignity of the person.

It was a pleasure to receive this book and share the illustrations and discuss with my son the amazing creatures God has created and most importantly, human dignity.  Weaving a love and curiosity for animals with solid theology my family enjoyed this book.

My son enjoyed the book and all the animals it discussed, it arrived in perfect time for him to share with his class prior to a field trip to the zoo.  Especially as a veterinarian, I enjoyed the appreciation of all of God's creation.

With beautiful rhymes and illustrations, it is an engaging book and is pleasant to read.  With words like, "yet every beast, like girl or boy, makes some small gift to God's own joy" the book is full of enthusiasm and shares in the joy of God's creation.  It would make a great gift for a teacher or family member, especially those who love animals!


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Friendship

I hope we all remember to nurture our friendships, especially those that challenge us.

A few weeks ago, I found a towel that said, "We've Been Friends For So Long, I Can't Remember Which One Of Us Is The Bad Influence."  As I was pondering whether to get this for my friend, my mom just blurted out, "You are getting that for her, right?".  She saw the towel and had immediately thought of the same friend I was thinking of.

Sometimes, I think of us like the characters in the Bette Middler movie, Beaches.  I might be a little more Bette Midler and she might be a little more the other character, but we might also split that a little even.  I'm more conservative, she's more liberal.  I'm religious, she's secular.  I'm barely over 5 feet, she's closer to 6.  It took me 72,000 steps to finish our marathon, it took her 55,000.  I'm a married family woman, she's single.

In college, she helped me with her editing skills.  As my husband can attest, my grammar probably would have had me failed out of many classes if it hadn't been for her help.  I helped her not burn the house down.  She didn't know how to cook even macaroni and cheese at that time (she is now something close to a gourmet cook through many years of practice).  We met because of her old roommate that neither one of us has talked to in over 20 years, by chance.

I still remember her being mortified when a socialist professor of ours said, "Aah, my 2 liberals," as we left a party at his house.  She responded to him, "You do know what she believes, right?".  He replied, "No, I'm not talking about party affiliation, I'm talking about people who think outside the box."  She was there with me when I was crazy enough to take a Marxism class with a former Marxist Black Panther.  She thought I was flirting with disaster.  I naively responded, "Well, if I have to learn about it, I want to learn about it with someone who actually believed it."  Her jaw dropped when in that class I had the further cajones to say that some people said the Civil War was more than about slavery and also about states' rights.  My professor fortunately respected that I had the bravery to say this.

But instead of the "wind beneath my wings" she probably thinks I'm the blisters beneath her feet.  I'm the one who recruited her to come down from New England and run another marathon with me.

After finishing our marathon and eating a much earned wonderful meal by my husband, my friend looks at me as if she was just struck with a new realization, "This was your fault, you are the one who got me to do this crazy thing."  She was ultimately happy that I challenged her, and it was an excuse for us to get together and bond, but she experienced the travails of the marathon just like I did.

While I joked with her about doing a "Tough Mudder" as our next endeavor, she firmly stated that a "Spa Weekend" would be our next excursion.

She asked my husband if he could think of anything the two of us had in common.  He had a blank look.  I didn't realize how much this bothered her until the next day when she said, "I can't believe he couldn't think of anything we shared in common."  I reminded her that this is the same wonderful man who was engaged to me and couldn't remember what eye color I had; being observant wasn't really his greatest skill.

We dabbled in the topics of religion and politics a little and then we stepped back.  We have worked out a rhythm of about how much we can dialogue before it no longer becomes dialogue.  As we were spending time together I turned to her and said, "I think I know what we have in common; we are generous with each other and others and we like to think the best of people."  We are idealists and though some of our moral values are not the same, we know we are both trying to be the best people we can be.  We ask questions of each other without insulting the other.

In a world of polarization, it makes a big difference if we are trying to understand each other or convert one another.  Our friendship is one of conversion, not of each other, but of ourselves.  We hold each other accountable to be the best they can be.  We are not always diplomatic with each other (both of us have abruptly laid the truth out for each other when it comes to relationships).  She's my friend who told me, "He's too hot for you" about a boyfriend and she turned out to be right.  He was not my type.

Sometimes, joys come in friendships not over common interest, but over common good.  Sometimes, we are called to engage with those who aren't in our "sphere" of likes and dislikes.  Our society is becoming more and more polarized and it is easier for us all to judge and separate and label and think of "other" as someone separate and not someone we need or choose to have a relationship with, but whether it's our family, friend or acquaintance,  it's great to see and try to understand the "other".  Even if I see her through eyes of faith, and she sees me through the eyes of a humanitarian, we can still see each other as sisters in humanity and friends.

Habits

Well, the habits I had tried to instill in my son from the beginning of the school year have succeeded in 2 of the 3 cases, so I guess I will take that as a victory.  Habit is kind of an interesting thing.  Some habits are hard to change.  Some habits we have no idea why we have them and some are helpful and keep us on "autopilot".  Apparently the reason why we have habits is so we can take some of our "executive functioning" and turn it into autopilot.  Whether it's the route you always drive to drop your son off school, or that you always brush your teeth before bed, or the habits athletes use to make their sport efficient.  The fewer decisions we have to make in a day, the better, so habit and routine helps our brain prioritize and focus on other things.

It's interesting because professionally I used to have a lot of habits and I've found in my current line of work I have to be much more adaptable.  Working in different places with different people who are used to different doctors with different habits makes me realize what habits are essential to me to function and what I just developed to be efficient in certain situations.

I have been trying to get into the habit of running and eating healthier in preparation for my marathon coming at the end of the month.  I've been blessed to join a social running group and one of the coaches actually mentioned a book her husband had been reading-The Power of Habit: Why We Do What We Do in Life.  She had been talking about how it talks about the military and how the military makes everything into a habit for efficient behavior and also how it applies to people fighting addiction.  I didn't really think any of this applied to me, but I decided the topic sounded interesting.  I went ahead and put in a request at my library for the book.

It has been a very intriguing read.  It discusses the history of selling habits, whether it was the first marketers at the turn of the 19th century and trying to get people into the habit of brushing their teeth, or the Tampa Bay Buccaneers turn-around of the team by focusing on the habits people already have, it's been an interesting and understandable discussion.

I actually found myself talking about the book in the exam room the other day.  It was a classic presentation- the person who brought in the dog knew the dog had a weight problem.  That person was responsible and bought the dog low-calorie, high fiber food and limited table scraps being given to the dog.  The rest of the family fell prey to how utterly cute the dog was and how big the eyes got when begging (The dog demonstrated this very effectively when I was looking at it and asking me for a treat).  As we talked about weight and treats, the owner looked defeated.  I mentioned to her there was a way she wouldn't have to work against the habit they had already developed.  I explained that the cue (dog begging with huge eyes) could still occur and the family could still get the same reward (family feeling like they treated the dog).  The only thing that needed to change was the routine.  She looked interested.  So, when the dog begs- you replace the routine of giving meat or bread or treats with carrots or green beans or a cat treat.  Whatever low calorie snack your dog needs to get the reward- Dog looking at you with adoration.  The healthier habit change would be that when the cue happens, you give attention to the pet and then they look at you adoringly.  Studies have shown that a lot of times when pets beg, they are actually just looking for attention and it doesn't necessarily need to be food.

I haven't read the whole book yet, but I am definitely looking forward to it.  What do you think about habits and our ability to change them?



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Goodbye my first kitty love.

Duchess, you came into my heart accidentally, literally being dumped at a vet clinic....

Duchess, dear kitty,

I always knew this day would come and now that you are over 19 1/2, it's no surprise but it still hurts to say goodbye.

You possibly saved my life and my unborn child's life by letting me know that labor could be on its way...  (I thought maybe I was being a crazy cat lady but the doctor heard what you were doing and moved up my C-section)

You shared the ups and downs of vet school, an intense internship and a couple boyfriends, enjoying ice cream and lobster bisque with me.  During break ups, I could almost see you saying, "ice cream is so much better than boyfriends."

  When we found out you had a brain tumor and I decided to start giving you shrimp, scallops and other table scraps, you almost gave me a look like, "I should have faked this brain tumor years ago".  My husband thinks you are like the Dowager Duchess in Downton Abbey- I think you are more like Sophia on Golden Girls.

You were a best friend through many ups and downs, job changes and more, the last 18 years you've done it all with me.  Including a few cross-country flights.  You taught me what it is like to be a cat owner, even though you think you are a dog.  You are NOT the type of best friend who would talk on the phone, listening for hours offering consoling thoughts.  You were more like the best friend who once told me, "your boyfriend is too hot for you."  Most friends would take that as an insult, but she was right (he was a playboy) and just like your "statements" are more than most pet owners would take, they are always quite honest.

You fell in love with my husband and somehow you turned the man who said, "I will tolerate your cat because I love you" into "your mommy is so mean Duchess" and "we will do whatever we need to do for Duchess."

You saved me from studying too much by lounging across my books and reminding me why I became a veterinarian in the first place...

You trained a dog to be more like a cat.  You even trained him that even though he's 60 pounds and you're 5 pounds, you are the boss.  I still remember the time I caught you giving him "THE LOOK" and he moved off his dog bed to give it to you.

 Even my son when he was a toddler realized you were the boss.

You taught me that the domesticated feline can be just as talented and awesome a huntress as the ones you see on safari.  A previous owner had removed all of your nails, but even without claws and with a bell on you were the svelte and smooth predator.  We never knew we had a mouse problem at my parents' house until we got you.  You caught them but were also merciful.  You had no problem catching them live, putting them in a tall container and doing an exchange for a treat.  I'm quite confident those mice never found their way into the house after you got them.

You killed scorpions when we lived in Arizona.  You pretty much earned free rent and the ability to be irritating for the rest of your life with that one.

You saved me from becoming a complete pack rat by destroying memorabilia and furniture that we couldn't part with but needed to.

You let me know that "cry it out" with a baby is just not cool.  You did this with loud meowing, throwing your body against the door and inappropriate gifts.  You let it be known that YOUR baby needed help and you were the maternal figure who couldn't ignore him.

Duchess, we will miss you.  I don't think it's cliche and even if it is, I don't care.  I know there's not another cat out there like you.  Even my grandma and dad who said, they never liked cats, liked you.  You always made me crack up when you seemed to know who didn't like you and you hovered around them.  I'm pretty sure if kitties have a sense of humor, you had an awesome one.

Goodbye Duchess and thank you.  I don't need to get into the theology of "do pets go to heaven?" to know that pets are a special gift from God.  Our Creator has entrusted them in our hands for a limited time and I will be grateful I got to know you and occasionally be irritated with you because well- that's what love is and you have taught me how to love bigger and deeper.

Know Thyself; Book Review

I was very happy to have received this book.  Between moving 5 times in 5 years while having a very demanding professional life, getting married and then having a son, my life became very disorganized.

When you add in trying to merge two households and not having the time to declutter.  Well, you know it's a recipe for disaster.

Know Thyself: The Imperfectionist's Guide to Sorting Your Stuff  by Lisa Lawmaster Hess was a great book.  Sometimes when I read organizational books, I'm left saying, "Well, that works if your brain works that way, but if my brain worked that way, I wouldn't need to read this book."

The first step in organization isn't really organization- it's decluttering.  It's simplifying.  It's getting rid of those things that aren't really relevant or useful anymore.  Spiritually I think that working with others who are not as blessed as I am has really helped me to let go of some of my stuff.  Why  hold on to some pillows I got from Ikea years ago that just aren't my style anymore?  Giving them to an organization that helps the homeless and victims of domestic violence seems like  a blessing on both sides.  I had furniture that someone gave to me in college and now I can give it to someone else going off to college- pay it forward.

I come from a profession who though we are type A, we are overall very disorganized.  We have to manage multiple crises at once and generally don't have the time to keep a clean, neat desk, or even a focused thought.  One of my colleagues came to me for advice on setting up a small business because, "You're the most organized vet I know."  My husband thought this was a huge joke.  When I informed him that I am actually fairly organized compared to colleagues, he decried, "Well that is really sad for the profession."  My husband is not perfect either, but we seem to compliment each other in our strengths and weaknesses.  Lisa Lawmaster Hess is the perfect author for this book, with a history of being a retired elementary school counselor and an adjunct professor of psychology, she understands the relationship components behind organization.

I remember reading the Konmari book and thinking, "That's great if you live by yourself".  There's no way you can just start throwing out other people's stuff.  That doesn't work.  We all love and have importance attached to different things and it's not always apparent.  We also all have different ways our brains work.  I remember a roommate commenting that I "flowed like a river" and so did my stuff.  Instead of suggesting you become someone you aren't, Lisa recommends you work with what you have.  From the color of containers to the type of containers to your system, she first gives you a psychological profile of your "personal organizational style".  Are you a "Drop and Run".  Or a "Cram and Jam" or an "I know I put it somewhere".  (I found I'm a mix of a couple).  She discusses decluttering and adds a spiritual element to it.  Each chapter begins with a biblical verse and ends with a prayer.

She talks about organizing obstacles, "motivation (or the lack thereof)",  warring styles, seasons of the year and seasons of life.  There is also a whole section on organizing with kids and making changes that are sustainable.

I enjoyed this book and found some helpful tips.  More importantly it gave me some support in knowing I don't have to be a natural organizer to make some progress.  God didn't make me to be disorganized, He gave me, my husband and my son our own unique gifts and there is a way we can use them together to have a little sanity.
 
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Silent Retreat

I remember when 20 years ago, I first heard of going on a silent retreat.  I thought that would be impossible for me.  I'm not sure if I was an extrovert who became an introvert, or always been some type of combination but back in my young adulthood I thought it would be impossible for me to be silent.  Now I long for it.

If you've ever considered a silent retreat, or been scared to do one.  I have a word of advice, DO IT!

I did my first silent retreat about 8 years ago.  It was difficult, but surprisingly refreshing.  I've done a few more since then.  In this time of XM radio, DVRs on our TV's, podcasts, easy access to phones and Facebook and messaging, it's important for us to slow down, and attempt silence.

Now, while my lips may not have spoken during the silent retreat, my brain certainly did.  I think it took about 30 hours on the retreat before my brain stopped the constant dialogue in my head.  There are often talks, music and other noises you hear on retreat- it's not like you are locked in a dark room with silence.  Doing retreats in natural settings can also be great, my retreat was in an urban setting with some natural spaces.

I am a person who both as a mom and as a professional, typically needs to multi-task.  My brain has to be processing multiple responsibilities, questions and problems at the same time.  Much like other moms, I'm sure.  Just like we are often the last to go to the dentist, or to the doctor, we are often the last to take care of ourselves.  Whether time and money allow you to take a silent retreat at a place separate from your home, or it's a matter of leaving your kids in front of the TV so you can have a few minutes of silence, remember and try to put silent moments in your lives.  Even if it's driving in the car to pick up the kids, turn off the radio occasionally to retreat to silence.  I've found that silence is not really silence, but an invitation to listen and invitation to give gratitude to our Creator.

Have you considered or done a silent retreat?  What do you think?

Explaining 9/11

My family has taken a couple of trips to New England.  We normally try to avoid driving through New York City.  Neither my husband nor I feel very comfortable driving in the city.  I'm a midwestern girl.  Give me a 2 lane highway with the windows down and I'm happy.  Stop and go traffic in the Bronx, well, that's a little stressful, especially for any trip that's more than 5 hours long.

A while back, just my son and I went to visit a friend and a cousin in New England.  I drove an hour out of the way to miss driving through the city.  My son was devastated.  I didn't realize he had such a fascination with New York City.  Whenever he sees it on the news, or hears about it in a book, he points it out.  He definitely wants to visit some day.

All this talk about New York City seemed pretty innocent.  We talked about the museums and Central Park and all the things to see and do.  He wanted to see pictures.  So I showed him pictures of the skyline and he asked us about the tall buildings that my husband and I had been in.  We should have seen it coming; but we didn't.

I'm not exactly sure how the World Trade Center towers came up.  I'm not sure if it was him looking at pictures and seeing an empty spot in the skyline, or if we were talking with each other and innocently mentioned them as places we had visited.

How do you explain 9/11 to a 5 year old.  I feel kind of blessed that I'm having this conversation 18 years after it happened.  It makes me really understanding of the difficulties parents had when it was fresh.

Both my husband and I knew several people in different locations that were affected by the terror that day.  We had even once taken our son to the Memorial in Shanksville.  He was younger then.  We just kind of explained the Memo

Courtesy of Pixabay

rial there as a place where good people died fighting evil and were heroic in saving other people from peril.  At that time, he didn't ask more questions.

But to explain how there were two giant buildings and they aren't there anymore, that's tough.  It's just so real, so obvious.  It's not a philosophical discussion.


We explained to our son how some people made evil decisions.  They somehow thought that God had told them to hurt other people.  We reminded our son that God will NEVER tell you to hurt other people.  We told him that many people went home to Jesus on that day.  My husband and I nervously glanced back and forth, hoping we didn't need to fill in anymore blanks.  We briefly discussed how religion and belief in God is a good thing and that we always need to be aware of good and evil.

Our son processed this information.  He then told us, "some girls in my class said that those who don't believe in God go to Hell.  I think that maybe they go to Purgatory."  This kind of took us aback.  I didn't even know that my son knew what Purgatory was.  I was proud that my son did seem to have an awareness of a merciful and loving God.

Getting closer to the anniversary of 9/11, I've had the opportunity to learn more about the hero dogs that helped search and rescue people and continue to prevent bad things from happening now.  I don't know that we fully answered his questions, I don't know that all of my theological questions have been answered.  Hopefully, as distance and healing occur, we can all explain what happened so no one ever forgets, but also have the grace to remember, there is evil.

Habits

Habits.

We all have them.  Some are good, some are bad and some need a little work.

I've been thinking about habits lately.  This time of year, second only to maybe the New Year, we all think about them a little more.  Trying to get out of summer rest and relaxation and back to the busyness of the school year, we need to return to habits.

The military relies on habits, psychologists make big money on habits, the good and the bad.  Veterinarians use habits too.  I sometimes forget the habits that I have had ingrained in me since veterinary school.  I almost always try to examine an animal in the same order of body systems, it makes me less likely to forget something.

Recently, they have suggested that we do our exams on cats in a different order.  Instead of starting from the head and moving back, start from the back and move forward.  I'm not sure if it's totally less threatening for a cat to get touched on it's back before you look them in the eye, but I've seen it help in some cases.  It is hard to reprogram myself though.

We got our son a watch for the beginning of the school year.  He loved it.  I think it makes him feel like he's really grown up.  I didn't anticipate he would become a taskmaster, but he did for a little while.  Always wanting to know when we were leaving or doing things and keeping us on schedule.  He woke up on time- for a day.  He slept through the alarm the next 2 days.

I think of all the habits we want to have, but don't get around to.  The chart that is divided into 4 categories (Important and Urgent; Not Important, but Urgent; Important, but not Urgent and Not Important or Urgent).  I would put Facebook and checking the smartphone in that last category.  The Important, but not Urgent category is unfortunately where I spend the least amount of time, I think.

Recently, we had the Gospel reading about the Virgins with the oil in their lamps.  I thought of the habits that I'd like to do.  The responsibilities in my prayer life and community life that I say, "That would be great to do- maybe I will focus on those things when I retire."

We know neither the hour or the day.  Just as trying to start my son off with habits for the school year, I need to work on mine.  Just as my son didn't get up to the alarm on the second day, I struggle with my habits too.  But the important thing is that we keep trying.  We remember that it is worth struggling with and we don't put off the habits we need to work on.  While we may not be consistent every day, the more consistent we can be and we struggle to be the more likely we are to change something from a habit we struggle with to a habit that is ingrained in us.  Don't give up, persevere and once you've mastered one, work on the next one.  Keep the oil in your lamps and be ready.

Quite the Accomplishment

Swimming...

I had my son enrolled in swimming lessons when he was 6 months old.  A mix of my family being very involved with boating (I was a member of the Crew team at my school), we have a cottage on a lake and we are pretty much always around water in the summer along with the fact that swimming is quite plainly, a survival skill was part of the early exposure.  It also didn't hurt that one of my best friends didn't learn how to swim until she was in college and I saw how hard that was for her.  I saw the fear of not being confident in the water.  I spent time in the pool with her as she was learning to swim and always thought that I would not make my child deal with those challenges (however, it was definitely awesome she overcame her fears and though not a great swimmer has had a good time going to the pool with my family).

Image by Pixabay

My son did great in the water at 6 months old.  He was doing Awesome!  Then... he developed an irrational fear about getting water on his head and in his ears.  My husband doesn't exactly like getting his face wet, and quite frankly, I don't enjoy it at all times either.  But unless you have some type of medical issue or abnormality, the normal human ear can clear water just fine.  There are some dogs that when they go swimming, it makes them more prone to yeast infections from the moisture, but simply using a drying agent prevents this.  My son never had much trouble with ear infections, I think he's had maybe 3 in his entire life.

This fear of getting his head wet lasted about 3-4 years.  Finally I was able to get him interested in going underwater with some water rings and when I worked with him with watching the fingers I had under water and counting them.  He started having fun with that.  So he would go underwater.  We have done so many cycles of swim lessons with my son, I can't even count.  I gave his swim teacher the Starbucks free refill Christmas cup one Christmas when he finally learned how to swim ( a little).

I can safely say that my husband and I have spent more than I want to remember on swim lessons.  I've probably spent over a thousand hours in the pool with my son.  While I like swimming, I don't like it THAT much.

I especially don't really like him jumping in the pool and splashing all over me.  I don't really like going to the pool in the middle of winter (although sometimes it's so warm I can almost feel like I'm on a Caribbean vacation if I can ignore the noise and smell).

Needless to say, both my husband and I have sacrificed for our son to learn how to swim.  We were hoping that this summer, he would pass the "Swim Test".  It's a test where they have to swim 25 yards unassisted in a pool that is 7 feet deep.  Which, considering our son is about only 42 inches long is a pretty long distance.  I'm pretty sure I didn't have to do that when I was a kid (our swim lanes were at the most 3.5 feet at at least some point).  We tried to enroll our son in extra private lessons, which became difficult with a busy summer.  We just kept getting in the water.

So, what's the big deal about the swim test?  Well, until they have the swim test, wherever they are you need to be within 10 feet.  I'm not one to really abandon my kid anyway, but when I'm in 3 foot water and he's in 1 1/2 foot water and it's 95 degrees, I kind of prefer to be in water where most of my body is covered...  There's also two water slides at our pool that are only open during the summer.  They are two stories high and there's a life guard at top and a life guard at bottom, the bottom where you land is a pretty small area that I can touch in, but has a strong current.  My husband and I enjoy doing the waterslide, so we will switch "custody" back and forth to take turns.

I've been talking to my son about passing the swim test and the freedom that would give him and he'd be able to go on the waterslide.  Not motivated.  As a matter of fact, I couldn't get him to swim more than 6-8 feet without putting his feet down and touching bottom, or turning around and swimming back to me.

We've been trying to get a pool day together with my son's friend for a while.  He is the youngest of 6 kids.  He has a sister who's about 3 years older than him and a brother who is about 5 years older, they all play together pretty well.  The older siblings needed to do the swim test to be able to go on the water slide.  My son's friend had passed a swim test at his pool (not as long a distance, I think) and being the youngest, wanted to keep up with his siblings.  I thought, well, my son probably won't pass, but it will be an experience and he will get to see what to work up to, plus, if the lifeguard was already testing 3 kids, it wasn't wasting his time to test another.  I asked him if he wanted to do it, he said yes.  I assured him that if he didn't pass, it was totally fine, just a goal to work for.  I told him if at any point he struggled, he just had to reach for the wall.  Reaching for the wall would finish it though, and he wouldn't be able to try again.

He watched as each kid did the test, the oldest did it super quick, second oldest not quite as quick and his classmate, not too fast.  He didn't share his nervousness and I tried not to share mine.  He tried to get into the pool with the ladder and not jumping in like he normally does.  I reminded him he had to swim wall to wall.

He got in and he went.  I cheered him on because I know he loves to be cheered.  The lifeguard went to reach the lifebelt out to him a couple of times because he would stop, tread water, breathe and then go on.  He was 50% through his 25 yards, than 75%.  He took some pauses, treading water and by the end of the lane, even the life guard was cheering him on.  Chanting his name.  He came out of the water cool as a cucumber, "Of course I knew I'd pass," he told me.

I was unprepared and didn't take a picture of him as he finished, but I did take a picture of him the first time down the water slide.

His friends and him went down the water slide constantly, to the point I had to stop him because I could see he was getting exhausted.  I did catch him, coming down the water slide, singing to the tune of La Cucharacha, "I passed the swim test, I passed the swim test."  He was slightly embarrassed when I told him I heard him.  "You have nothing to be embarrassed about, what you did was quite an accomplishment."

I told my friend that I should have paid her the money instead of the swim teachers, because the peer pressure of her kids is what got my son to take on the challenge.

It's also a lesson and reminder for me- no matter how much work and time you put into a goal for your kid- it's up to them.  Often it's also up to their friends.  Peer pressure is powerful.  I'm praying it's powerful for the good and I'm reassured that at least at this age, I still have a little role in picking his friends.

Because Life Can Never Be Easy...

After a wonderful trip to Michigan to visit family and spend some time at the family cottage, we headed home.  Recently we've been doing something that might be counterintuitive.  We haven't been going on trips and getting home Sunday after 12 hours of driving to get up and ready to go to work about 7 hours later.  We have been getting home Saturday night and spending Sunday putting away stuff, reading through mail and having a little time to just get mentally ready to be back from vacation.  Sometimes no matter how great a vacation is everyone needs a vacation from a vacation.

So we got home Saturday night and my husband came in with a puzzled look and he said, "Because Life Can Never Be Easy."  I hesitated to ask for explanation, but I knew it was coming.  "Both of our remote controls to the Subaru aren't working."

Well.... After living in the temperature extremes of Michigan and Arizona, I knew the problem was likely not the little key fobs.  "Go try to start the car," I told him.  He came back even more puzzled.  "Nothing."  "The battery is dead", I told him.  This was after about an 11 hour drive and we were hungry for dinner.  "Well, I'm not calling AAA now, we can deal with it tomorrow," was my response as my stomach gurgled.

We had had a hot week, but the car was only two years old.  I was betting on the 6 year old.  I was praying that the battery wasn't gone for good and it was just the matter of a 6 year old bopping the light on when it was broad daylight so it wasn't easy for me to see and it was left on for over a week.

We ate food.  I realized my parents had given us something to jumpstart a car at one Christmas or another.  My husband realized his parents gave him something that didn't require us to put two cars together, an easy starter.  It's amazing how a little food and rest can actually give you ideas!

The next day, after Mass, we went to try to start the car.  It worked.  I was never so happy to randomly drive around on the expressway after a long trip the previous day.  It appeared that my hypothesis of the 6 year old was correct.  As soon as the car had battery power, the rear seat light lit up.  The relief.

Two lessons from this experience- always give yourself an extra day and always check the interior lights, even in daylight before a long trip.

The Canine Underground Railroad

My son has had an interest in the Civil Rights movement for a while.  Whether it's Harriet Tubman, Jackie Robinson, Rosa Parks or other heroes, he's had me read and re-read about them.  He takes an interest in this subject and I don't mind supporting his curiosity in understanding historical injustice.

There is a different form of "Underground Railroad" that I deal with on a daily basis.  It's obviously not as serious as the commonly known underground railroad of over 150 years ago.  But it does exist.

Every day, I see multiple dogs that have come up from the South.  Be it Georgia, North Carolina, West Virginia, Alabama or Texas.  The Northeast of the USA actually has a shortage of rescue dogs.  I know a lot of people who wanted to rescue a dog but found it very difficult to do, so just bought one from a breeder instead.  I know people who have adopted dogs from Korea and the Caribbean.

The population of dogs in the Northeast is largely spayed and neutered.  There aren't many dogs in shelters here that are a breed people want to adopt (small dogs or labs or golden retrievers).  Many people and their landlords have a bias against Pit Bulls and Pit Bull-type dogs.

Overnight, most days of the week, there are trucks that come up from the south bringing puppies, adult dogs and even some senior dogs for people to rescue.  Some of the rescues are great.  Some are possibly a little more dubious.  Some actually make money off of the process.  Some of the dogs are healthy, some are not, some bring infectious disease, especially heartworm disease.  I'm all about rescuing dogs.  I think it's great these dogs get a second chance in a place where they will be spayed and neutered and vaccinated and not struggling to make it in the wild.  Ever

yone should have an awareness though, that sometimes these dogs are not healthy and could come with additional cost and care that were not discussed, either because the rescue was not aware, or because of other issues come up.

A statistic that is interesting is that 100,000 dogs a year from Oklahoma and Texas go to Colorado.

A case of canine rabies was reported in the United States in a dog that was brought from a farm in South Korea to the U.S.

Be educated when you adopt a dog that is not local.  Consider adopting from your local shelter.

A Clothing Sale

This is actually a repost from about three years ago.  My son has long ago left his daycare, but I stay in touch with the childcare center director and she said it's still going strong, I've left a "legacy".


My mom was a wonderful PTA parent and organizer.  I was quite active in high school and even college in managing organizations and events.  In this season of my life, I have no interest.  I am already feeling stretched and overwhelmed.  My family comes first over organizations in my over-scheduled schedule.

While my son's daycare is a WONDERFUL place, they require these things called "co-op hours".  That means every month you need to put in at least 3 hours of volunteering.  My husband and I have done laundry, sold Christmas ornaments and cleaned toys to fulfill these hours.  I even have gone to watch infants for a couple hours (not really a chore, but hard to schedule).  Part of me doesn't understand how we pay the equivalent of a college education for childcare + are required to do volunteer hours.

Last month, we got a notice that somehow, we were still behind in the number of hours.  Both my husband and I are fairly proficient at math, so we couldn't figure out how we could be 6 hours behind, when we thought we were ahead.

We couldn't remember the exact punishment for falling behind on hours, but we were pretty sure it involved fines and possibly losing a spot in the daycare.

I tried to think fast of how I could come up with some volunteer hours.  Meanwhile, it's spring cleaning time and I'm trying to organize things and clean out the house.  I had previously talked with the center's director about a clothing/toy sale for kids to swap their clothes and toys for the next size up.  I e-mailed her the idea and she said, sure, go ahead, and why don't you do it 3 weeks from now?

I have now learned how to conference call (not much opportunity to do that in veterinary medicine).  I've also remembered the joys of flyers and e-mail promotion and found out many other things particular to my son's daycare.  Those days of organizing dog washes, blood drives and more are coming back to me.

Hopefully we will get plenty of toys and clothing and gear.  Hopefully, parents won't have have to buy brand new snowsuits next year and can save a little money and we can also clean out our closets.  The proceeds of the sale are going to go back to the school for enrichment activities and any leftover gear and clothing will be donated to a local pregnancy center.  I will let you know next week how it all goes.  Fortunately, there are other parents who also found they were behind on hours.  So, I have a fair number of volunteers who want to put AS MUCH time as possible into this.  Oh, and as an update.  My husband and my math skills are still fine, we had the person re-audit our hours and we were 5.5 hours ahead.  So add on this experience and we should hopefully be able to at least cruise through summer : )

I'm Sorry

“I’m sorry”

Just two words, but sometimes so hard. Lawyers often say we should not say it.  It can admit culpability.  But sometimes, that’s the point.

A lot of people struggle to say it in their relationships.  I have a few relationships where there has been hurt, but never an apology.  Some people grapple with saying it.  I’m not sure if it’s shame, or pride, or what.

Our son said the other day, “I’m tired of saying I’m sorry!  I’m not going to say it anymore.”  I explained to him that saying “sorry” is part of being human.  No matter how hard we try, we will commit errors and need to take responsibility.

Our son is approaching first grade and we are starting to catechize him about the Sacrament of Reconciliation.  I told him he needed to play quietly so I could do an Examination of Conscience before I went to Confession that evening.  He asked me what that was and I told him, “It’s where I sit down and think about all the ways I have sinned and failed.”  “Oh, I can help you with that,” he immediately answered.  I was a little concerned.

“You sometimes yell at me and tell me I’m being naughty”.  Less you think I’m someone who goes around shouting, “yelling” to my son simply means I’m saying words he doesn’t want to hear.  I thanked him for his help in finding my errors.

Sometimes people say their sorry and they don’t mean it.  They are just words to placate.  There is sometimes a difficult walk between making your child say they are sorry for something when there is no remorse.

Just like when we say the Act of Contrition, we have to recognize that we hurt a relationship.  Not that we are simply fearful of punishment but that we seek to sin no more because of love.  This is a difficult thing even for adults.

I need to remind myself when I’m teaching my son to say “I’m sorry,” that it’s not so much the words.  It is tough to say I’m sorry because it requires something much deeper than words and I’m grateful that my son seems to realize this.  I try to give him time sometimes when he is obviously not in a position to be remorseful.  “Later on, when you calm down, you need to apologize.”  I’m sorry is not a knee jerk reaction, it is a reckoning before the Cross.

May our children come to understand and appreciate the Sacrament of Reconciliation with the deep graces the Lord has given us.

That's not on our list!

In an effort to not get any more overwhelmed than we already are, my family sat down and had a family meeting before the summer began.

We went through what we wanted to do, what we didn't want to do and how we primarily wanted to spend our time.

Due to my husband's schedule and my son's school schedule, we aren't able to take vacations throughout the year.  As a veterinarian, if I wasn't my own boss, I wouldn't be able to take vacation during the summer (It's the busiest time of year and many vets have contracts that say they can't take time off between May and September).  Fortunately, I have a little flexibility.  We always end up finding ourselves overbooked though.

My husband and I put a great value on family time, and also on our son having "down" time.  One of his classmates actually participates in 4 sports at a time.  We think that we will do best as a family if he just has one organized team activity at a time.

It was interesting to see what my son said were his most important goals of the summer.  Time at home.  Time to play with his toys and maybe an occasional trip to the library or pool.  But mostly time at home.  My son had already coined his phrase, "House overwhelmed" at this time, which to him simply means he's not spending enough time at home and just wants some more chill time.


About a week after this meeting, we were getting ready to help host a barbecue for a religious order and the residents that they take care of in a nursing home.  This was for roughly 70 people.  The last time I had gone shopping for this event, I had filled the cart so much I actually had difficulty moving it.  We strongly dislike going to the Costco chaos on a Saturday, but it made sense to have the extra hands.

We woke up that Saturday morning and reminded our son we needed to go to Costco.  He was quick to point out, "That's NOT on our list!".  So apparently our family meeting had made an impact on his mind and I was happy he remembered and wanted to re-focus our family out of chaos.  I did point out for him that helping others was on our list and one Saturday morning at Costco would not ruin the whole summer.

The $1.50 12 inch hot dog, lemonade and a shared family soft serve was what we used to celebrate,  b
esides the fun we had at the barbecue the next day.  It is good to know that family meetings do matter and we can all try to hold each other accountable to keep the "House Overwhelmed" under control.  It is summer after all.

Adoption Madness 2: Party at Home Depot

As I discussed in Part 1, our adoption journey started out slow and tranquil and went into a crescendo the succeeding 3 months.

While we were doing tons of paperwork (I think our adoption To Do List had about 100 items on it) and doctors appointments and more, we were preparing for our home to be inspected.  There wasn't really a checklist for what was needed for a home inspection.  Our social worker was reassuring and said it was really nothing to worry about, and if there was something they found lacking, we would have time to correct it.

My husband and I are both fairly risk-averse and safety conscious.  We also have a friend who is a local fireman.  We have a three-story ladder for our house, a fire extinguisher in the kitchen and more smoke alarms and carbon monoxide alarms than what is necessary.  We had read that our local laws had been updated and there were a few more bells and whistles that were required; but no big deal.

I got the name of an electrician and I found new smoke alarms with a 10 year battery.  When we had gotten a new heating and air unit and new hot water heater, we had already passed a local inspection for our carbon monoxide and other detectors so we thought we were good.  Hmm.

A week or so before the home inspector came, I realized that we needed a combination smoke/fire alarm and tried to get the electrician to come in and switch them out, which we had him scheduled for, but inclement weather interfered.  Rather than re-schedule the home inspection, the inspector said she'd come anyways because she was sure she'd find some other violations.  That just made me quake in my heels.

So ultimately after 3 trips from the electrician, multiple purchases from Home Depot and Amazon and a consultation with a friend who is a fireman we made some progress.  We also had multiple communications with the home inspector which were confusing (they had just changed the laws and regulations in our county regarding what was required and that home inspectors were now responsible for fire inspections, something the firemen used to be responsible for).  The electrician who was a kind man figured out exactly what I needed to get.  It was not easily found online.  He stayed and waited for me to make a quick run to Home Depot (all during this time I was actually supposed to be listening to a lecture for continuing education).  I went to Home Depot and could not find what I needed.  I didn't understand why they would be selling products that weren't "up to code" in the first place.  I found a Home Depot team member and asked for assistance.  The electrician had given me a specific model number.  The Home Depot member then suggested one of the previous detectors we had purchased.  In frustration, I told him how that hadn't passed inspection.  He then said, "Oh- you have an inspector- then this what you need."  As he showed me the small box tucked on the lowest shelf in the back, I purchased 7.  Suddenly there were about 5 other people who came over and also asked if this was the model that would pass inspection.  Who knew that I would start a "party" at Home Depot to find the right device...

This might be the day...

Earlier this week, my husband and I were awoken in the middle of the night by our cat.  This is not that unusual, considering our cat is almost 20 and has some eclectic habits.

As she jumped on our bed, after loudly meowing throughout the house, (she's deaf, so it's a really loud Meow) my husband remembered he forgot to fill her water.

Now, you should know that she always has access to water and up to about the past 6 months, drinking the dog's water out of his bowl was just fine for her.  Her kidney disease worsened a little bit (I already told you she's almost 20).  So in an effort to get her to drink more water, I've given her her own teacup that I put fresh cold filtered water in.  My husband is normally the last to bed, so he checks to see if it needs to be refreshed before bedtime.  The last time he forgot to do this, she jumped on our bed and let him know her displeasure by jumping over him and drinking from his bedside water.

So as she jumped into bed, my husband covered his water and even though she's deaf, we still both yelled at her in the haze of 2 AM.  She bopped down right between us and had a seizure.  She had full on convulsions that were unmistakeable.  She hobbled out of our bed and then walked around like she was drunk.  I turned to my husband and said, "yep, that was a seizure, I'm awake, right, that just happened?"  My husband who wakes up a little faster than I do verified this was not a dream.  As I lay anxiously in bed thinking with my doctor mind that this meant that our cat most likely had a brain tumor, our cat had another seizure episode.  I turned to my husband wearily and said, "Today might be the day."  Meaning that we may have to make the decision to euthanize.  I took Duchess into our guest room so I could monitor her and hopefully my husband could get some rest.

I know what seizures look like.  I've treated probably close to a thousand of them in my career.  There is definitely something scary and alarming about them when they happen in your own pet.  If I wasn't a veterinarian, I would have taken our kitty to the ER, but I knew that I was competent at monitoring her.  If she continued to have seizures, I would take her in and I'd have to get her started on some medication most likely.

In an almost 20 year old cat, even if my family had all the money in the world, we wouldn't get an MRI and have brain surgery or radiation therapy for her.  I know these are options and some of my patients have had these performed.  If she was 8 or 10 or maybe even 12, I think this would be a route to consider, but knowing how she hates hospital settings and this may still not be what terminates her life, my husband and I agree that if her quality of life is still good, we will try medical therapy, make her comfortable and see how things go.

We had already had a playdate scheduled that morning and Duchess did not have any more seizures.  She was pretty sedate and just slept a lot, which isn't atypical for a 20 year old cat.  I monitored her and made sure she had plenty of water.  My poor husband asked if dehydration from not having her filtered cold water could have caused her problem.  I reassured him he had no reason to feel guilty and that this was unlikely.  Her deafness and whining in the middle of the night (things that are typical in older kitties) were most likely early signs in retrospect.

So as I was emotional and trying to reconcile "doctor" with "mom" 4 kids came over to our house.  Two of them were my sons age and then a 3 year old and a baby.  All of them loved cats and dogs and didn't have one of their own.

Our geriatric, epileptic cat came out of her hiding place and rubbed up and purred and let those kids love on her more than most normal cats would.  Ok, I thought, maybe today is not going to be the day and this cat is just adding a new disease to her repertoire.  As if to taunt me, she also tried to get into the kids' macaroni and cheese when they left the table.  Yep, I had to keep a check on how upset and frustrated I got.  If I didn't know better, I'd think she faked her seizures for a little sympathy.

Just as I was becoming less afraid that her time was near, my husband commented that she was walking funny.  I told him, "well, she's got arthritis."  "No," he told me, "she's hobbling and limping like she broke her leg."  Then I witnessed it.  She was neurologic.  If she had a brain tumor, and she didn't have periods where she was acting normal, we could be near the end.

My husband and I had always agreed that we would give Duchess a milkshake before "the end".  I told my husband that night to please make her a milkshake.  My husband makes good milkshakes and he used to make them all the time before our son was born.  Duchess used to try to steal them all the time.  It was during this time that my husband truly realized her acrobatic and gymnastic abilities.  He had always thought cats didn't have a vertical leap.  Then he decided that Michael Jordan didn't have anything on Duchess.  My husband's milkshakes are probably one of her favorite things, besides lobster bisque.

My husband looked at me and asked me a couple of time if I seriously wanted her to have a milkshake.  I told him yes, just a small one and I promised I would do clean up duty if it unsettled her stomach.  He was sweet and then said, "But I don't want to give her any ideas.  I don't want her to think because she's getting this milkshake she can just go and die on us!"

My son liked that he was getting a milkshake out of this deal but was seriously perplexed that we were willingly giving the cat one.  He asked three times, "Seriously?  Seriously? Seriously, you are giving her a milkshake?"

I think this kind of brought it home for my husband that we could be near the end.  She kind of looked at me a couple of times as I put the small teacup in front of her as to what she had done to get this.  She enjoyed it though and she licked the cup clean.

She had a good evening and this morning my husband couldn't find her.  I couldn't find her either.  Then I looked up and she had somehow jumped 6 feet up on to the top of my husband's dresser.  Not only had she done that but she had also knocked down a heavy ceramic cup that was probably at least 1/6 of her weight.  She decimated the cup.  She looked at me and it was like she was saying, "What are you looking at?  Do you really think I'm going to die on you.  Well I ain't dead yet and leave me alone."

Yep, that's the feisty spirit I know.  She is good at reminding us that you can't predict what's going to happen and a little spirit and spunk means a lot.  Every day is a gift.  If a little macaroni and cheese gets stolen or something gets broken, well what does that matter when you got a life to live.

Chick Fil-A Dress Like A Cow Day is Tuesday, July 9th

Just in case you haven't heard, today, Tuesday, July 9th is Chick Fil-A's annual "Dress Like A Cow Day".  If you show up at any Chick Fil-A with any type of cow clothing or a mask or tail anything showing your bovine aptitude, you will receive a free entree.  My son and I did this last year and I remembered to keep our "Moo Masks" safe just for this "holiday".  I made the masks easily with crayons, a papers plate and a disposable fork and crayons.  I'm not a very good artist, but it does the job!

My son has a great time, the place is crowded (but fun).  Everyone's in a pretty good mood because really- who doesn't like free food?  Especially good food from Chick Fil-A?  I might even splurge and purchase one of their lemonades tomorrow (that sugary goodness is sure to make me run 4 extra miles to burn it off), but another not as well known fact about Chick-Fil A is, they refill your drink for free!


I will have to see if my son keeps the book in the Kids Meal that he gets, or if he trades it for an ice cream cone (another not as well known fact- you can trade the toy/book in the kids meal for an ice cream cone).  He always used to pick the book, but with the weather around here in the 90's lately- I think he might go for the ice cream cone.
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Happy 4th of July!

Happy 4th of July!

I hope you have a restful, fun and family-filled 4th of July.  From barbecues to parades to just spending time with the family, may God Bless you and your loved ones.

The more research I do about history, the more I feel like I'm discovering two things- the Founding Fathers were imperfect, just like we are today, and America is Blessed.  God did some amazing stuff during the Revolutionary War, because when you read about the amazing "God-incidences" as I see them (people making decisions that were out of character, even a hurricane that was perfectly timed), I'm kind of left thinking- there was a reason....  Let's all do our best to share our blessings with others and be grateful for the blessings we have.

God Bless America!

Some books I've been reading lately...

This should probably be entitled, "books that I'm taking an inordinate amount of time to read."    My DVR is full of shows I haven't gotten to, my iPad is full of books I've started or wanted to finish reading.  It takes me a while to read books.  I do 5 minutes here, 3 minutes here.  When I'm really into the book, I might stay up a little later or try to squeeze a little time in when I'm waiting to pick up my kid for school.  Where ever I can get the time, I squeeze it in.  I used to be an avid reader.  Then Vet school happened.  As I've discussed previously, Vet school cured me of wanting to read for pleasure for several years.  The funny thing is I ran into someone recently who went to the same Vet school I did, twenty years prior to when I graduated.  Somehow the topic came up about just starting to read for pleasure (somehow this topic came up when we were discussing angora goats and knitting- who knew!).  She laughed as I shared it took me about 5 years to start reading again.  We were discussing that our alma mater is now revising the curriculum for "quality of life" for the students.  We then started commiserating about teachers- teachers who would be fired for sure in today's "Me Too" movement and because of unacceptable behavior that as we started to remember, we agreed that it's good that God gives us memory loss.

Anyways, I have been reading some interesting books lately.  I kind of like historical fiction and non-fiction.  After reading,  Bunker Hill: A City, A Siege, A Revolution by Nathaniel Philbrick, I decided to read "In the Hurricanes Eye".  This historian's take on Bunker Hill was fascinating and had some information, especially about Dr. Warren and Mercy Warren I had not heard before.  It made me want to read another book and learn even more.  My husband and I (and even our 5 year old) have a fascination with history and especially during this time period.  I had always thought about the battle of Yorktown being fought with trenches and on land, but the French Navy really kind of won the war for us.  The Museum at Yorktown and the National Park Service are now putting more emphasis on this fact.  For a woman who grew up in a time when "French Fries" were briefly "Freedom Fries" and traveled Great Britain and France where the museums mostly spoke about their respective contributions with a small tidbit, "oh yeah, the Americans fought in the Second World War too"; it was a good reminder that we all kind of help each other get where we are.



I'm not exactly sure how I first got interested in the book Lilac Girls, but it was quite intriguing and gave me a fresh look at sisterhood, survival and some of the atrocities of the Holocaust in a different way because the characters were well-developed and it was easier to see yourself in their roles.  The author had gone on a tour of a historic home in Connecticut and then delved deeper into the family history.  The first story takes place during the Second World War.  The second story takes place during World War One and primarily in the backdrop of the Russian Revolution.  Between Russian nobility, kidnapping, friendship and more, it's a captivating book that kept me wanting more and helped me relate to people I wouldn't have thought I could have.  Both of Martha Hall Kelly's books are for mature readers, there's not really much adult material per say, but let's just say war isn't pretty.  Nothing gory, but there were some parts that I kind of chose to skim over because I didn't really need to try to visualize those pieces.

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