Hard to leave him.

I'm constantly leaving him. Driving him to daycare. Putting him to bed at night. And on the weekends; down for his naps. I'm constantly leaving him. So leaving him any additional time is hard. The guilt sets in almost immediately. I can hype myself up for whatever event or task I have planned. I can talk myself out of the sadness for a bit...but, then...like a slow punch to the gut it hits me. A constant  nudge bringing my mind to him. Is he happy, is he ok, does he need something? It doesn't stop.

It's exhausting. The worry. Oh the damn worries! This was nothing I was ever warned of. Sure, I was told I'd worry. But, no one, in no way, warned me of this. 

My son loves Minnie

Owen loves his Minnie Mouse doll.

The doll was bought nearly 10 years before he was born. I bought it on a trip to Disney World with my college dance team. We were there for a dance competition and I saw the ballerina Minnie Mouse in a souvenir shop and decided to get it to remember the trip and in hopes that one day I'd have a little girl who would love dance as much as I do. I found it in a box soon after Owen was born and jokingly got it out to see that reaction that husband would have to see our son holding a pink ballerina dressed Minnie Mouse. He didn't care. The doll got put away in the toy box with Owens other things. Now 2 years later Owen sleeps with Minnie every night. He found her in the toy box a while back and  insists that she stay with him every night. He tucks her in and hugs her tightly. And we are ok with that.

My dinosaur loving, monster stomping boy loves his Minnie Mouse doll.

30 in 30 days

In 30 days I'll be 30. I've never had an issue with age. I never really thought someone in their 30s was old and birthdays never bothered me. But to turn 30 just feels foreign. It suddenly sounds to old for me. I'm not old enough to be 30. A 30 year old person has a better understanding for the world and way more confidence. Right?

At Target today a girl in front of me with a cart full of goodies got carded for her wine. She tells the cashier her birthday- 1990. This chick was 5 years younger than me. I thought she was older. She seemed older. I felt younger. I'm completely confused with age and aging. I was pretty envious of her purchases. Cute clothes, wine, some nice gift wrap, and house decorations. All I was buying was a $10 canvas storage bin for Owens ever growing collection of dinosaurs that are taking over my house. An entire trip trip Target (alone!) and all I bought was a fricking storage bin for toys. When did all my fun get sucked out of my body. Lame. Lame!

That poor 25 year old girl had no idea the fury and depression she caused me. All because she bought cute fun things. 

Crocodiles & a new job.

We finally took a little vacation this summer to visit my parents. On vacay day 1 we took Owen to a Crocodile farm? Refuge? Zoo? I don't know what the hell you'd call it. But it was super backwoods and awesome. Complete with watching employees risk their lives to feed the beasts by hand. Then we got to pet a baby alligator and snake. Just a normal Friday around my hometown.

We also went to the beach! Owen loved it. Last year he couldn't walk yet and it was a bit of a beating. Still fun and adorable to see him experience it, but nothing like now. This year he played in the sand, ran around, and splashed in the waves. Wow! What a difference a year makes.

We left town on a Thursday. Earlier that week on Monday and Tuesday I set up my classroom. I was fully prepared to start off the school year. My room was set and boxes were ALL unpacked. Friday while we were relaxing during Owens nap at my parents house. I got a phone call from the teacher who I had been a long term sub for during my subbing career. She had passed on my resume to a principal for a preK position. "Of course I'm interested!" I eagerly said when she asked. Later the same day I got a call from the principal and an interview was scheduled for Monday. Well, that cut our vacation short. But it's a chance that I had to take. And holy moly I got the job! 

I have applied to probably 200 jobs this summer. I went to 5 interviews. And it finally happened. I feel like I've been accepted. Chosen. Recruited. Like sorority rush all over again. They like me! They really like me! I'm excited about teaching again!

Blisters and a break in

Did you know grown ups can catch Hand Foot Mouth Disease from their kid? Did you also know that your kid can catch it from seeing another kid with no symptoms for like 2 hours? Stupid germs. Good news is that Owen never had a fever and has acted his normal goofy self the whole time. Yucky HFMD blisters and all. This kid...such a trooper.

Me on the other hand. No fever, but my mouth is covered in blisters and I can hardly talk or eat. It hurts so bad I can't imagine what it would be like if Owen was in this kind of pain. That would be a nightmare. Maybe this is how I'll get my bikini body. I can't eat! Ok I can eat, but it hurts so bad that it's not worth it. It will get better, I know. Until it does I will continue to numb my tongue in a bath of tequila.

So also, the day before Owen was EXPOSED to the HFMD we went to our God sons birthday party. Owen had so much fun and The Husband and I had a lot of fun too. So we get home around 6 from our long fun day swimming and partying. I walk in through the garage with Owen on my hip and see that our back door has been kicked in. The door frame is on the floor, things that were on the counter are all over the floor. Holy shit. I yell for The husband and tell him what's happened. He sends me back outside to call 911 so he can make sure no jerks are still in the house. Once the house gets the all clear from my brave husband I go in a check it out. I notice both laptops are gone, my Nikon is gone, they went through all of the dresser drawers, our bed is even pushed aside. I start panicking. Strangers were here. Touching our things... digging in my underwear drawer. They saw a child lives here and continued on their way taking things that aren't theirs. How could anyone be so selfish? And why us? It's not about the stuff they took, it's the violation of space. It's creepy. 

The cops finally arrived almost an HOUR later. The woman walks in and shows me a photo on her digital camera. "Is this your stuff?" YES! What the hell? Is this some kind of a joke? The boys who were in our house are children; teenagers. They were caught after doing a third break in a few blocks from our house. The bastards were caught. The oldest was 17 and cried when the police let him know he'd be punished as an adult. That actually made me feel a little better. He's in a jail cell crying like the idiot he is. I've never been so angry and ready to punch someone. I've never punched anyone before, but I'm 100% sure I would have punched anyone I saw in our house that night. 

So the great news is that we got our stuff back. All of it. Good job Mansfield PD! 

No more pitter patter

The sound of Jackson's nails trotting along our wood floor always annoyed my husband. It never bothered me. I even liked it. Even though it woke me up several times in the past 6 years in the middle of the night. Usually because he was sick. He would find a place to hide as if we wouldn't find out. I don't know why dogs do that; hide when they're sick. It was like he didn't want us to see him that way. Dogs want us to see them at their best. Happy, wagging tail, tongue hanging out, and smiling. That's the way I will remember Jackson. Even though he had much more sick days than most dogs (I assume), he had some great dog days too.

I remember a day when it snowed a crazy amount for Texas. Casey and I took him outside and he ran like he'd never run before. He ran until his little legs were coated in white globs of snow. Or the day I took him to a dog festival in Dallas. He sampled treats and got loved on by strangers all afternoon. Or a simple day with me in the car on a road trip when I gave him fries and ice water. He had a way of making me feel better if I was upset. I would look him in the face and he would lick me right on the nose. He grunted and moaned when you scratched him in the right places. He never took up too much room on the bed. He usually liked his own bed instead. Sometimes, I'd make him cuddle with me before letting him get into his own bed. As soon as he heard you turn the TV off at night he jumped up and grabbed his Bobo. He loved pretzels and carrots, and always trusted me.

This morning, Christmas Eve, Jackson was sick. His diabetes had taken over his body. He was weak, sick, shaking, scared, and ashamed. He tried to hide his weakness. I held him tight and let him know he didn't have to be afraid or scared. We spent the morning with him. Owen brought him every toy he could find. He showed him all of his favorite books and pointed out his favorite parts. We gave him as many hugs as he would let us, but he was in pain. No dog should be in pain. It's the one thing I never wanted for him. After getting his diagnosis last week and hearing about how it could (and likely would) take a fast turn for the worse. I knew I couldn't watch him suffer. Without daily injections of insulin his body would eventually (and did) attack itself. He developed ketosis with is fatal and painful. I held him in my arms as the doctor took his pain away and let him escape the suffering. It was fast and peaceful...and it was horrible. I kept telling him that soon it would all be over and he wouldn't have to worry about hiding his sickness and pain anymore. I could feel his tension and worry leave his body as he drifted off to sleep. I'm so glad he is pain free in doggy heaven; forever healthy. I miss him though. But he will always here. We got to bring him home and bury him in his backyard. We put him right where all the squirrels go.

I've cried just enough or too much. Owen seemed worried about me at some point and hugged me which made me cry more. In many ways it's horrible that it happened on Christmas Eve, but in some ways it's just right.

Rest in peace Jackson. You were so loved and loved us too. Our home is not the same without you in it.

Jackson

10-28-08

12-24-14

Jackson

Jackson was on sale when I bought him. He's half schnauzer, half poodle. A special dog with special problems. I'm actually allergic to dogs. They make my eyes itch and burn like crazy. Jackson was chosen because he is hypoallergenic. I can cuddle him and never even catch a sneeze. However, Jackson is allergic to everything. He needs special food and special care. He also hates kids (except for Owen, they love each other).

Jackson has gastroenteritis. He's vaccine allergic and needs an IV and catheter just to get his yearly shots. He has skin allergies that have caused him to be half bald at one point. He has had bad ear infections and pink eye. He hates my uncle Kellen and no one knows why. He eats our black mulch and then barfs. I'm guessing he does that just because all dogs are a little dumb. His latest diagnosis? Diabetes.

Last week I noticed he was drinking a lot of water. Then, he started wetting his bed and peeing in the house at night. I knew something was wrong. I took him in on Wednesday morning for a drop off appointment. When I told them what was going on, they seemed worried. Knowing that this is my Jackson, I was worried too. The vet and I played phone tag later that day and I finally talked to her around 3:00. She said, "I know this is not something you would have expected to hear, Jackson is diabetic." She went on to explain to me that his blood sugar was somewhere in the 300's and it should only be around 100. She told me about insulin injections, special diets, around the clock monitoring, and finally that euthanization is an option.

I couldn't believe it. My crazy, silly, lazy dog who has already had so many issues is now a diabetic? Euthanization? How do I even make this decision? I cried and I cried. This dog. This 20 pound black dog has been my little sidekick for 6 years. I brought him home as a 4 pound puppy to my studio apartment back when I lived alone. I sneaked him in without paying a pet deposit (dumb decision). I took care of him the best I knew how and he remained by my side through 4 moves, he approved of The Husband when we met (after a few introductions). He's my dog. He's not just a dog.

I'm not giving up on him. I'm not sure what will happen, but I'm trying to get him healthy. He's stayed by me all these years so I owe him this.