Fred the Fairy Dog

Last Saturday was one of the hardest days of my life. I buried a dear friend far too soon. I am proud to say that I made it through her funeral without openly doing the "ugly cry" or indulging myself in some good old chest shaking, snot sucking sobs, but I really wanted to. (I did that part at home.) I think I managed to hold it together pretty well until I saw Beth's daughters. Then I freely admit that I lost it. I can remember how it felt to be standing in their shoes like it was yesterday. Their young lives have changed in a way that is completely unimaginable. The enormity of what they are facing-life without their sweet mother in it-hasn't even begun to sink in yet. I can guarantee that it will, slowly and painfully, for the rest of their lives. My heart is completely broken for them, and for her husband. I can't imagine losing the person you can't breathe without, nor do I wish to.
Her service was a sweet remembrance of a devoted wife and loving mother. And true to form, she actually made me giggle. At the end of the very long list of survivors, was the name "Fred Maloney." It didn't sink in until I got in the car that Fred Maloney was not just any family member. He was her dog. Frederick the Fairy Dog, to be exact. When they got him as a puppy, Beth did some research and learned that, according to legend, the white patch found on the back of the neck of most Corgis was called a "fairy saddle." And so, Fred the Fairy Dog became family, complete with his own ducky pajamas. For those of my friends who are Corgi people, you know how lucky she was to have counted a Corgi among her survivors. I never thought my dear, sweet, amazing friend would be able to make me smile at her funeral. But she did, just like she always has. Well played, Beth, well played.
And, yes, I know that she is no longer in pain. I know that she is in a better place. I know that she is young and beautiful, with a tiny waist and blonde hair again. But I am still so incredibly sad to see her go. I have to say that I do still end up with a smile on my face every single time I think about her. I hope that after I am gone there's someone left who can say that about me. And I think that's a legacy she would be proud of.

Okay, okay, enough with the sad stuff! I promise that my next post will be back to something funny. The baby is potty training. I got a whole chapter's worth of material for my book when I went through this with her sisters, so I know there's some good stories coming soon!

Mom's Favorite

On a popular news show this morning, the anchors were discussing whether or not people have "favorite" children. The final consensus was that everyone feels at one time or another that their sibling is the favorite. Growing up as an only child, there were some days I wondered if I was the favorite, so I can't imagine what it must be like with real siblings! As a mother of three, I can see why someone would ask such a question, but it blows my mind that someone would actually admit that they favored one child over another. I have seen countless families where it was obvious to everyone else in the world that there was a favorite child, but rarely have I heard a parent say it out loud. Personally, I will have to agree with the Today show anchors for once. I think every child has their turn to be the favorite. Depending on what day it is and how well they are behaving, I think everyone gets a shot at it.
That being said, does anyone else feel like they have a child that God gave them specifically because if he hadn't, parenting would have been too easy? I have two children who are happy, easygoing, and easy to please 99 percent of the time. And then there's the one. The one who redefines high maintenance. The one who when you say black, she says white. If you want her to dress up, she wants to dress down. Admit it, moms, the one who knows how to push your buttons without even trying. The child who I get in fights with at least twice as often as the other two. The one who makes me think that God took every single trait I don't like about myself, threw in her dad's blue eyes, and gave me...mini me!
I know what you are thinking. The irony of the fact that the kid who can get on my last nerve and jump up and down is EXACTLY like her mother is not lost on me. I'm sure that there's some sort of Freudian psychology mumbo jumbo that describes my conundrum perfectly. I love my daughter to pieces. She has the kindest, most loving heart in the world. She gives amazing hugs, and she loves her sisters with everything she has. She is smart, sweet, and funny. And she knows how to make her mother mad in under 30 seconds with zero effort.
Right now, I'm fairly certain that she pushes my buttons by accident. It's the days that are coming that give me pause. When she discovers her God-given talent for driving me crazy and starts doing it on purpose, I'm really not sure what's going to happen! Stay tuned, because it's going to get interesting.
This particular child is also a whole lot like my mother's mother. My grandmother was overly dramatic about most things, especially her health. I like to joke that she was dying my whole life. Her tombstone actually says, "I told y'all I wuz sick." True story. My husband thought I was joking about that until I showed it to him in the graveyard. My child sounds just like her sometimes. If I believed in reincarnation, I would have to wonder. Last night she told my husband that she was tired and wanted to go on to bed at 8:15. He said, "Are you sick? Do you feel okay?" To which my six year old replied, "Well, I've just had a rough day. I coughed once this morning, and then I sneezed twice. And right now my belly hurts, so I'm not sure what's going on with that." Ah, yes, mommy's little hypochondriac. Here's hoping that she doesn't have some strange, awful childhood illness, because I'll feel like an ass. But I'm going to play the odds and say she just wants some attention, which she gets plenty of on a regular basis, so I don't really understand where that is coming from. Hey, maybe she'll grow up to be an actress and put all this practice to good use. I can hope.
And for the record, I don't have a favorite child. I love each of them differently, but definitely not more or less. I love that they are a perfect mixture of their dad and me. I love the wonderful qualities of their dad's that he gave them, and I love some of the qualities they got that are like me. I saw a post on Facebook the other day that kind of summed it up: I want my kids to be headstrong and independent. Just not while I'm raising them.

We're Good

Well, I knew today was coming, but that doesn't mean I was ready for it. After a long battle with breast cancer, my sweet, funny, wonderful friend Beth left this world yesterday and stepped into the next. She was a woman of tremendous faith, so I have no doubt that today she is spending her day with Jesus. (And I hope he is ready, because he's got some explaining to do!)
I have said before that I believe in karma. I absolutely believe that people reap what they sow. But the fact that this incredible person had to endure such a horrendous illness doesn't make sense to me or anyone else who knew her. She was a sweet, compassionate, and hysterically funny person, so beautiful both inside and out. And I'm here to tell you (as if you didn't already know) that bad things happen to good people.
I have said before that I absolutely know why mine and Beth's paths crossed in this lifetime. She really helped me understand what my mother must have been thinking and feeling before her death, the things that she kept from me because that's what mothers do - they try to protect their children. Beth generally put on a happy face when I came to visit, but there were also times that she let me know what was really going on underneath all the show. There were times that we laughed until we cried, and other times we just cried. Losing her was a lot like losing my mother all over again, but this time I was always careful to say anything I wanted to say before I left her house. Before I left, I would always ask, "Are we good? You know that I love you?" as if to say, are we good if this is the last time we see each other? And she would always hug my neck and say, "Yeah, we're good."
I sincerely hope that I have been able to help her girls get through this in some way. If nothing else, I was able to give their mom some insight into what they were thinking and feeling. Even with a parent's death staring them in the face, some part of a teenager's brain always thinks that nothing truly bad will ever happen to them. My mom's death came as a total shock, which sounds so stupid now. We always think we have more time. I am here to tell you that when an oncologist says six to eight weeks, you better plan for six and hope for eight. My heart is breaking for Mary Beth and Erin today. I know what difficult days they have ahead of them, not just now but in the future. Their wedding days and the births of their children will be especially hard without their sweet mother there. There will be a part of their heart that is broken now and forever, a void that no one else can fill. They were their mother's greatest source of joy, and most of her worries about what was going to happen to her were for them.
Beth, I miss you so much! You always made me laugh, even when you felt so bad yourself. I am glad that you aren't in pain anymore, and that you are no longer sick. But I guess I'm a little selfish...I'd rather have you here! I miss your smile and your fantastic sense of humor. I promised you I'd never run a 5K in your honor, and I intend to keep that promise. And hey, we were right! You didn't have to live through another "pink ribbon" October. :) But I'll never see another pink ribbon without thinking of you. Or forget that you played "Russian Toilette" with toilet paper in your guest bathroom, which meant you'd better check the roll before you sat down! You made me laugh and cry and appreciate my health so much more. I value my time with my kids even more because of you. You have made a lasting impact on my life and filled a void in my heart that no one else could fill. I love you and I miss you and I always will. Oh, and Beth, we're good.     

Day Care Disaster

Let me start by saying that I been advised by more than one professional to avoid reading disturbing news stories. Often things I read, especially things involving children, bother me, and I mean really bother me for weeks on end. I listen to local news while I'm getting dressed in the morning, and then sometimes the Today show afterward, although it's getting harder and harder to stomach NBC's "reporting" of the Presidential Race. Their news anchors can't even read a news story off a teleprompter without letting their bias come through in their voices. The closer election day gets, the more I think I'm going to have to find something else to listen to in the mornings. Maybe my Pandora Internet radio stations will get a little more attention.
Avoiding disturbing stories, particularly those involving children, is hard to do in this day and age, particularly when you are online as much as I am. I honestly think AOL goes out of their way to find the most horrendous "news" stories they can to put on their home page. Usually I can count on my local news to report on stories that actually count as news, and they generally keep the really disturbing stuff to a minimum. But this morning they reported on a story I had heard about previously, in which a day care worker administered a muscle relaxer to two babies in her care to keep them quiet.
Allow me to elaborate so that you will get the full gist of this story. A worker at a CHURCH day care gave a MUSCLE RELAXER to a FOUR month old baby and a SEVEN month old baby to "keep them quiet," both of which required medical attention afterward. What the hell is wrong with her? What was this woman thinking? I would love to know just what in her life experience made her think that this was even SORT OF acceptable behavior!
People ask me why I chose to "just stay at home" with my kids. I present to you exhibit A: see the paragraph above. I have also heard a story from a daycare worker about a child who had an accident on the floor, and while the staff was cleaning up the child, another child played in the poop and actually put it in his mouth. Here's the kicker: They didn't tell the other child's mother that her son ate someone else's POOP at day care. True story. Just thinking about that makes me sick. I have another friend whose kid broke a bone at a day care center and no one could explain exactly how it happened. I know of more than one baby locally who died of SIDS at a day care.
I am a fairly reasonable person. Don't get me wrong. Have my kids done disgusting things? Absolutely. Could they have broken a bone in my care? At least once a day. Would that SIDS baby have died at home? It's certainly possible. But the sickening thing is that those moms trusted the people who called themselves "child care professionals" with the most precious people in their lives and those workers let them down.
I think they should put that woman in the news story under the jail. I hope that she will not see the light of day for many, many years to come for doing such a despicable thing to those innocent babies. And I feel for the mothers of those children, who will feel guilty about trusting this woman until the day they die.
People often question my decision to stay home, both to my face and behind my back. (Yeah, I still hear things through the grapevine.) All I can tell you is that I walked into a local day care center when my girls were little and looked around. There were at least 20 kids in there being cared for at that moment by one adult. The thought of leaving my children there made me physically ill. I never considered it again. I love my profession. I enjoy people and their pets, and when my children are all old enough to go to school, I will revisit the issue of a part time job. But until then, as long as it is financially possible for me to not have a job outside my home, I'm going to be right here. Hope that judge throws the book at her!  

Tired of Saying NO

I didn't get a chance to post yesterday because I was working diligently on the two projects I would most like to see completed. I am almost done tweaking my book. Then I get to turn it over to someone else who wants to tweak it all over again. I have a feeling I'm going to be sick of my own work before this is over! Anyway, I am extremely excited to announce that our equine spa is up and running! We are still looking at some modifications to our driveway and putting in a permanent power source, but for the time being we are are using a generator. We are planning to put our first patients through the spa today! It has taken many hours of blood, sweat, and tears, (a few dollars, too) to turn this idea into a reality. We have dealt with issue after issue and things are finally coming together.
The spa we bought is manufactured in England. It took a very long and slow journey here by boat. There are only about 50 of these in the entire country. To the best of my knowledge, ours is one of the only two ECB spas with wheels under them. Our major issue has come from the fact that these things are not designed to be mobile, thus requiring a custom trailer and careful consideration about a myriad of other subjects. We are definitely still working out the kinks, but at least we can get started treating patients here at our home.
Today I am tired. Not just physically tired, but mentally exhausted as well. Mainly I am tired of being the one who says, "No." Do any other moms out there just get tired of being the killjoy in your family? Dad wants to say yes to everything. "Can we eat all 27 of these cupcakes?" "Sure, why not? It's Tuesday, after all." "Do we have to use our mouthwash? Can't we just skip it tonight? "Sure! Don't tell your mother." "Can we be Brownies? And cheerleaders? And join the soccer team?" "Of course! Why not?" It goes on and on. I really do get tired of being the one who threatens their lives because they refuse to shut up during Sunday service. And slapping a veto on the shorts and flip flops that they want to wear to church. Sometimes I just want to say, "Yes!" Yes, you CAN stay up until 10:30 on a school night to watch the same friggin' movie you've already seen 87 times because "it's on TV!" Yes, you can skip your bath and smell like pigs tomorrow! Yes, you can wear mismatched clothes and have stringy hair! Why, yes, let's eat cupcakes for breakfast, lunch, and dinner! Yes, yes, yes! Let's just make life one big party, and I'll be your friend instead of your mom. I'm sure you'll find a great therapist who can get you all straightened out someday.
Now, we all know I won't do that, because I'm your mom, and someday you'll be blaming me for the way you turned out. So just know that I'm doing my very best to turn you into decent, kind, compassionate people who can eventually take care of themselves. Even if it means using that nasty little word.

You Were a Kid Once

I have often said that reading the posts of some of my FB friends is like finding out what their psychiatrist is dealing with. But I think my favorite ones are the posts of childless people or soon to be parents who want to comment on the behavior of other people's children. That, or assess whether someone else fits their definition of a "good" mother. Let me let you folks in on a little secret: Be VERY careful what you say, as you may have to eat your words someday. I can guarantee that there will be times when your children are little that you will permit them to do things that you never thought you would. This seems to happen even more often when you have more than one child.
What got me thinking about this subject was a poll on a barrel racing website that asked people what their pet peeves at barrel races were. More than one person said, "Noisy kids." Still others said, "Barking dogs." Okay, first of all...you are at a public event in a public place. If there are people involved, you can be pretty sure that some of them are going to be parents.You are also at event populated entirely by animal lovers. Odds are that some of them are going to love an animal other than a horse.
Now, I completely understand the frustration with children who are turned loose on the world on a horse or pony they can't control. My horse was in a high lope in the warmup pen last weekend when a child wandered out in front of us at a walk without ever looking up. I'm still not quite sure how we didn't run completely over her. This particular pet peeve is the reason my children are not allowed to ride around unsupervised at the barrel race. Or in the warmup pen with forty other horses. They don't know how to stay out of the way, and I can remember as a child being scolded by someone at an AQHA show. Part of my job is to keep that from happening to my kids.
Dogs are dogs. They bark just like horses kick. They come with the territory at a barrel race. I agree, one that barks incessantly gets annoying after awhile, but most people have the good sense to leave those at home. Notice I said most people. There are exceptions to every rule.
But back to the parenting thing. I have always enjoyed watching my friends become parents and slowly start to realize what the rest of us already know. Motherhood is HARD. It's a whole lot of hard work sprinkled with moments of absolute wonder and bliss. Most of us are doing the best we can, but again, there are exceptions.
My friends who barrel race and become mothers look at me in a whole new way when they realize just how much effort it takes for a mother of three small kids to even get to a show. Wonder why my horses don't look like they've been kept in the barn with a blanket on? It's because they haven't! Between laundry, lunches, homework, supper, and housework it's a wonder they get fed some nights. (The horses, not the kids. Those little suckers want to eat every day! And more than once!) If it weren't for my husband, the horses might not get fed. Oh, well, at least they are out on grass all day every day.
Since I became a mom my life has turned into a traveling circus. I often wonder if barrel racing moms have to be even more dedicated than everyone else. They surely have to put more effort into just getting there. And they definitely have more background noise in their heads. When one of my kids announced that the other one was choking on a piece of popcorn three horses before my run, I can tell you that my head was no longer in the game! She's fine, by the way. "Choking" was a bit of an exaggeration. Girls are such drama queens.
All of this to say: Don't judge that mom so harshly the next time her kids aren't sitting perfectly still and quiet in a public place. More than likely, she's doing the very best she can. Odds are that she's tired, hungry, and needs to go to the bathroom. If she's lucky like me, her husband is helping her out. If she's doing it by herself, go hug her neck and ask what you can do to help. I'm fairly certain you were a kid once, too.
  

It's official!

I am excited to say that I have officially pulled the trigger on my book project! I just got off the phone with my project manager and the paperwork is on its way. My blog posts may be a little scarce for the next few days while I try to wrap up all the loose ends, but I am ready to put this project to bed and start on another one! Let the adventure begin! :)

It's just me eating chips!

I have said before that our first children were our "practice kids." While we have most definitely made mistakes the second time around, at least they are usually different ones. I was marveling last night at how much my parenting has changed since the twins were babies. I freely admit that there are things I would never have allowed them to do that my baby gets away with on a daily basis. Last night we loaded up the kids and went to look at a horse two hours from my house. On a school night. Gasp! On the way out the door, my husband scooped up our barefoot two year old and said, "Get her shoes." Yep. No problem. Except that I didn't. In my haste to pack diapers, snacks, extra clothes, my stuff, more snacks, and a sippy cup, I forgot to pick up her stinking shoes.
We arrived at our destination, I hopped out of the Suburban, opened her door...and realized that she was still barefoot. A rapid search of my car revealed the awful truth. Her shoes were sitting next to the door at home. Now, first-time mommy me would have said, "Well, she'll just have to sit in the car." And then been horrified at my mistake and worried the whole time that the other people there were thinking about what an awful redneck mother I was. There is NO way I would have consented to my children running around barefoot, in a barn of all places. New, tired, and improved mommy me said, "Well, she needs a bath, anyway. Girls, help me keep your sister away from the horses." Hey, I'm a veterinarian. I have access to dewormer. They probably all need a dose, anyhow.
I am happy to report that my baby still has all her toes, and as far as I know hasn't contracted any animal diseases. Her feet did come clean, and the lady at the barn was way too eager to tell me about her friend who dressed her daughter and made it to church, only to discover that she'd forgotten to put a diaper on the baby. I've decided that it happens to everyone, they just don't tell you about it.
As we were making our way home, the girls were snacking in the backseat. I had grabbed several bags of chips and various other snacks, thrown them in a bag, and told them to help themselves. Also something first-time mommy NEVER would have done. I didn't think much about the crunching I heard behind me until I realized that it was coming from right behind me. I turned around to find my two year old with a family size bag of Ruffles in her lap, crunching contentedly while she watched a Barbie movie on the DVD player. Her dad almost fell over laughing, then really got beside himself when she looked at us and with excellent enunciation and clarity said, "Don't worry, Daddy. It's just me eating chips!" To which he responded, "Baby, if you can explain it that well, you can have all the chips you want!"
Yes, my husband is definitely a fan of new and improved mommy. We no longer follow a schedule with military precision. My kids run, play, get dirty, and occasionally hurt themselves. I have managed to beat my OCD down with a stick and tolerate toys on the floor day and night. Heck, I even kept myself under control when the baby rescued a paper towel roll from the garbage can so she could use it for a telescope. (I did make sure it was the only thing in the can before I let her have it.) Maybe I've gotten older. Maybe I've gotten tired. Maybe I learned some things the first time around. Or maybe I've just given up. Either way, my kids and their dad are having fun. And that's what this whole thing is supposed to be about.

It's your choice...

After our hectic weekend spent barrel racing in Tunica, now I need a weekend to recover from my weekend! We had a great time, and my twin girls got to enter their first really big show on their pony, Rebel. He is at least 35 (the first kid he raised is married with kids now, so we know about how old the pony is) and will still try to run if the girls will let him. They did great! Their runs weren't quite fast enough to place, but they were a little nervous. Their dad and I were really proud. I was trying to film them with my iPad and I don't think I breathed the entire time they were in the arena, so the fact that I didn't pass out is probably an accomplishment. Rebel tolerated the glitter rainbow on his rear end pretty well, and earned himself a new nickname, Glitterbutt. As their dad was applying said glitter, the girls were instructing him on where to put it. After he had put on red, silver, and blue, he asked, "Girls, do you want me to leave it like this, like an American flag?" They immediately replied with, "No! We want you to use all the colors. We have to give green a chance!" Damn political correctness. See what they are teaching my kids?
Anyway, before we left I was marveling at how quickly these kids develop a mind of their own. They have an opinion on everything, and they're not afraid to share. Didn't this happen too quickly? I mean, aren't there supposed to be a few more years where mom and dad are always right? I thought kids didn't get crabby and opinionated until they were thirteen. Shouldn't that be a rule? I think so.
The other day their dad was getting ready to take them to their Wednesday night church group. He had on an Under Armour type shirt and some soft basketball shorts. As he walked out of the house, the following conversation took place.

Child: Um, Dad, is that what you're wearing to church?
Dad: Yep.
Child: Really?
Dad: Yes. Is there something wrong with what I have on?
Child (tilting her head to the side): Well, it's your choice. I mean, wear whatever you want. But those look like underwear.

Ah, yes, my little fashionista. She doesn't care what she wears to school as long as no one's ever seen it before. I can hardly wait for the teenage years!

The Visit

I had some really funny material to blog about today, and I intended to get a post written this afternoon. Instead I spent my time doing something incredibly painful but infinitely more important. As I was finishing up my last minute errands before leaving town tomorrow, I decided to visit my friend Beth. She is slowly but surely losing her long, long battle with breast cancer. She "looks" like a cancer patient now, confined to her bed and no longer able to sit and chat with me her living room. Her thoughts are much different from the ones that used to make me laugh out loud. Her eyes are sad, and her voice is heavy with the enormity of what is happening to her. My heart is breaking for her and her family. She has filled an enormous void for me, helping me to understand what my own mother was thinking and feeling as her illness progressed. I have done my best to help her see things from her teenage daughters' point of view. I am completely confident that I know why our paths crossed in this life. After our conversation today, I am also glad to know that our relationship has meant as much to her as it has to me.
She did make me laugh today, just like she always does, when out of the blue she declared, "I have decided that I'm going to croak next week." Without thinking I replied, 'Then I'm glad I came by today!" It hurts me to see such a sweet and gentle soul enduring something so horrible. If there's any justice out there, I'm thinking she should get her wish, even though I'm going to miss her company so very much. Hug the people you love today. It's like I told her...those of us who are "healthy" are rocking right along thinking we have all the time in the world. Maybe we do. Maybe we have years and years to love our husbands and our children well. But maybe we don't. Maybe next week is our week. It's worth considering. And now I'm going to kiss my babies.

Six Year Old Logic

For those who've wondered, I'm still alive and well. The last week has been completely frantic. Every time I try to catch my breath I realize that there's something else that HAS to be done. Today! No wait, yesterday. Anyway, I spent the morning at the trailer manufacturer watching three guys put our new horse spa into our custom trailer. They insisted that one of us be there to supervise the installation, so that we didn't end up with the unit in the trailer backwards or some other such issue.
And may I say, the whole affair was some nerve wracking stuff! There's nothing quite like watching someone hoist your very sizable investment into the air with a forklift and squeeze it into a hole that's only slightly larger than the machine. To top it off, the guy driving the forklift wanted to be a comedian. Hey dude, the time to joke around with me is not while I'm watching you screw with my new source of income. I don't really have a sense of humor about that. I'm just saying.
I am extremely happy to report that after many, many delays the spa is now in the trailer and waiting to be hooked up. Once we know that we have power we can get the technician over here to start training us. I am excited about the prospect of getting to use my degree again. I have loved every moment of being a stay at home mom...OK, wait. That's a lie. I have loved ALMOST every moment of being a stay at home mom. I did, however, spend a ton of time, money, and effort earning a degree before I was someone's mom. So even though I'm not going back to work full time, I am looking forward to treating and preventing injuries with our spa. We are going to run it here at home as well as taking it to some events. Hello, retirement plan!

I love to listen to my girls talk to one another, especially when they don't know that I'm listening. The other day they had the following conversation.

Child 1: Is China farther away than Disney World?
Child 2: Yes, it's much farther, I think.
Child 1: Can you drive there?
Child 2: No, it's too far away for that.
Child 1: Then how do you get there?
Child 2: You can take a boat. Or maybe a plane. It takes a lot of hours. You can sleep on the way there, it takes so long.
Child 1: Oh. Well, if it takes so long, then what about the driver? How do they get to sleep?
Child 2: Well, they have two drivers. One can sleep while the other one drives.
Child 1: Oh, okay. Well, what if the floor or the roof of the plane falls off?
Child 2: That won't happen. I mean, unless they like, hit a bird or something. Even then, it wouldn't hurt the plane, because, I mean, a plane's made out of metal, and a bird's made out of...bird.

Six year old logic! Gotta love it!