Halloween Fun, More Puppies and A Baptism

I don't know if I've mentioned before that Halloween is my absolute favorite holiday. It's no-stress, no family hassles and it is only as much fuss as you want. I just love this time of year and spend as much time as possible watching scary movies and cuddling close to my love. 

Saturday night my friend Kristine and I dragged our spouses off for a fun and fright-filled night at Scream Town. As I sit here tonight typing, my throat is still raw and scratchy from screaming. There were 5 different attractions but by far the scariest was the Circus Asylum. Clowns + pitch blackness + strobe lights = scared shitless!

Several times A said I actually picked her up. We learned Kristine is a sprinter when scared and at one point she practically ripped off my parka. Her husband (a big 6' 5" guy) was plowed over and pushed out the fire exit by 3 freaked out gals...well make that 2 freaked out gals and one gal being dragged/carried along. That time several of the actors actually lost character and burst out laughing themselves. I woke this morning feeling stiff and sore and I swear I dis-located a hip. 


It was a late night and then an early morning when I hobbled my crippled ass out of bed to put on heels and head to church. That's right, I suffered through mass to attend the baptism of the son/grandson of our close friends (and adopted family). Ahh, the things you do for the ones you love! We had a great meal and lots of visiting, laughter and hugs afterward. It was a happy occasion just to have everyone together. 

Even though I was tired it was a great way to end the weekend as I returned home again from a short petsitting/housesitting gig. This time it was a happier occasion since Betty just had a chance for a last minute getaway. She seems to be doing much better and I'm hopeful for her.  Anyway the bonus for me was getting to spend 5 days with these adorable little critters.

3.5 week old Chin puppies. OMG, I was in so much love!

I tried to resist holding them as much as possible since it made their little mama nervous.

But seriously, who can resist this face and they fit just perfectly in one of my hands. This little guy will never be a show dog since his markings aren't "breed standard" but his little mustache is so unique. I don't know if Betty has named them yet, but I called him Groucho Marx all week.

Happy Monday!

Thinking of Life on the Road (A lot of Pictures)

Poor A.

Her weekend camping trip was worse than I thought. We didn't have much time to talk; mostly she was filling me in via text. You know how texting is...you don't get the entire description or the mood of the situation. 

When she walked in the house, I immediately could tell she was steaming. We hurried to get her mom's stuff loaded into her car all the time listening to the psycho mutt screech in our back yard. A couldn't hurry her out of here quick enough! Seems like they had quite the blow-up on the 4 hour drive home today. I'm so proud of her though since she really gave her mom an earful. Years ago she would have never; she would have simply clamped her mouth shut. For so many years A has been apologizing for her sexuality and today she stood up for who she is and told her mother she is not ashamed-take it or leave it! Ha!

We always joke that I'm the little devil who sits on her shoulder and whispers, say this, do that. Today apparently I was.

Well at least we have some weekend trips planned over the next couple months. Looks like the state of Minnesota has reopened the majority of the state parks so we don't have to cancel anything. I feel bad that A had such a shitty waste of a weekend but I couldn't help but be envious of her too. Instead I was stuck here at home looking at pictures and longing for our next road trip.

When A installed the new stereo, she put it all the way over by the steering wheel.

No matter, I'm still in control with the mp3 played and remote in my lap. I truly have to have things my way...and messing with the stereo is distracted driving anyway. 

The most common question we get when out in the RV is "What's it like to travel with all those dogs?" What can I say other than it's like living with them at home but in a much smaller space. 

We have all types of people approach us but some of the nicest are the truckers. They come over motivated by loneliness for their pets left at home while they spend weeks...sometimes months on the road. We listen patiently as tell us about their own dogs. We often find ourselves staying longer at a stop than expected just because we hate to cut them off.

I admit that our first few road trips were a learning experience but this year we really have it down.

We all try to be safe and stick together. If someone leaves the pack, everyone anxiously keeps watch until their return.

And if you don't behave, you can ride in the crate on the hitch rack, also known as "The Dinky Seat" (from National Lampoon's Vacation).

The old man grass-rolls at every stop.

And he rides in his stroller parked between the seats.

But Tim, being the jealous bastard he is, has to try out Giz's special seat every chance he gets.

Sia and Cassie spend a lot of time breathing down my neck. (Phew!)

And barking at people when we stop for gas.

And attempting the challenge to get up into the front seat to be with mama at any cost.

We encounter informative wall art. I wonder just how many people are named "Tabby" in that small town? My guess, not many and Tabby knows who she is.

And judgement along the interstate.

We really had to laugh that the one doing the condemning can't spell.

We travel on a scary, demonic road the superstitious may want to avoid.

And find historical roadsigns too. A trail marker and S-shaped bridge on the National Road, commissioned by Thomas Jefferson and one of the earliest roads west. It was supposed to go to Missouri but they ran out of money in Illinois. See our government had financial problems then too.

I wish we would have stopped here for breakfast. I just loved the name and it reminded me of Ms. Moon.

Our final stop on our return trip form Ohio-The Surf Ballroom in Clear Lake, Iowa where Buddy Holly, Richie Valens and the Big Bopper played their final show.
See what wild times we have on the road? *laugh*

Fathers

Officially Father's day is almost over but well I'm late for everything else, so why not this too. I spent most of the day installing new flooring in the hallway. Yesterday morning I had planned to steam clean the carpet but by the afternoon I changed my mind and instead ripped out carpet and picked up new flooring at Home Depot. Anyway since it was a one person job and A was keeping busy and out of my way, I had a lot of time to think as I worked. I figured today was as good as any to write about my latest visit with dad.

I think this picture was taken of my dad and I on my second birthday. I'm pretty sure that was the year I received that fabulous tricycle. I'm surprised I still remember that bike. 

When A and I arrived in Ohio, I admit I didn't go to see dad right away. He didn't know I was coming and I was concerned that he would worry/obsess about our visit. Plus every conversation I've had with him the last 6 months has been about him returning to Minnesota so I honestly was dragging my feet to have that conversation face-to-face. When my aunt (my mom's sister) offered to go along with us to visit, I sighed with relief at having that extra support. She goes to visit him every couple weeks.

Thursday morning we drove the care facility where he is living. I was relieved to see how nice it was. A and I were inspecting everything. :) He was still in bed and my aunt walked in first. He looked up and gave her a little wave. She leaned over and told him she brought a surprise, that A and I were there. He looked at me, said "hi" and just launched into bitching and complaining. He wasn't really complaining about anything in the present, he was still complaining about things that happened a year or more ago. I wasn't really able to have much of a conversation with him. We just sat back and listened to him talk and I realized that he is living in the past. He told us the same stories he's told us for years. He thinks he still has a job here in MN and wonders when he will be able to get back to work. He knows he needs to live somewhere where he can be taken care of but also thinks he can drive, return to MN and move back into his apartment. He goes back and forth between knowing his grandchildren live in South Dakota to thinking they are still living across the street from me. 

It was a beautiful day so we took him outside to sit for awhile. I was relieved to see that Dad still very much looks the same. He was thinner but not overly so and he is eating well. 

As for the person my dad was, well that person is very much gone. I didn't realize how much that has effected me until I typed it right now. I've been hiding (or suffocating) that fact; pushing it down and forcing myself to look at this from a medical perspective.

The most obvious thing to me was when I arrived and gave dad a hug, he showed no emotion. He didn't hug me back or hold my hand or do any of the things he normally would have. He didn't even call me "Mac", the nickname he gave me before I can remember. When I left the hospital last August, he was weak but he kept rubbing my hand with his good one and telling me "I love ya Mac". When my brothers and I left he cried. This time there was nothing...no emotion just talk about nothing that really matters anymore. 

I didn't show any emotion either.

A was on stand-by. Nothing happened. I think she's still waiting.

I don't think dad even remembers my visit and maybe that's for the best. While I was there, I called one of my brothers so they could talk to him and then I forgot my phone in his room when I left. By the time I realized it, one of the employees had found it and taken it to the office. When they asked dad if he knew whose phone it was, he didn't know and didn't know who had been there to visit. 

Not all my thoughts on this Father's Day were sad though. I also remembered my grandpa this day.

This is the first and only topless picture you will find of me on the internet. I must have been a little over a year old when this picture was taken which would have made my grandpa around 75. I'm eating a grape popsicle. My mom tells me it was the only flavor I would eat at that time.

In many ways, my grandpa was more of a father figure to me than dad. He was kind and stable and peaceful. He told great stories and drew pictures and carved airplanes out of wood. He was always humming a song and after a few drinks, he might sing. After a few more drinks he might dance too. I would sit on his lap and eat cookies, doughnuts or crackers dipped in coffee. He would fry eggs and make us sandwiches. Mom tells the story of returning home to find my diaper secured with black electrical tape (in the days before re-positionable fasteners). He sat in a chair in the corner of our huge kitchen reading large print westerns. He had a nickname for everyone and gave me the name "little fuzz" when I was 3 days old; 35 years later some still call me by that name. He was the one who would tell me that my dad's obsessive behavior and fighting with my mom "wasn't right". 


He was already 52 years old when my mom was born and raising his second family. When my parents divorced, we moved back with him. By that time he was around 80 years old. He should have been enjoying his time but took us in, supported us financially when dad wouldn't and never seemed to regret it one bit. He always took me with him as he worked around the house. I would sit as he fixed things and he showed me how things worked. To this day I swear that if I'm stuck on some project around the house, I will set it aside and that night I will find the solution in my dreams...usually suggested by grandpa. He was the one who would tell me that it didn't matter I was a girl, I could do anything I wanted. That's pretty forward thinking for a man born in 1902.

Of all the people who have come and gone from my life, he is the one person I miss the most.

Pre-Vacation Brain Dump

We're on the countdown. I should be sleeping since I have to go to work in the morning and then we leave in the afternoon. I'm excited to see friends and family. I'm excited about traveling with A and getting the dogs transported. I'm excited about taking A out for day trips and hiking around in the hills. After all that is "home" even if I don't live there anymore. The one part of my trip that gives me any concern is seeing my father. I don't really know what to expect from the visit but I'm not expecting things to go well. Of course when I don't want to deal with something uncomfortable, my natural response is to avoid.


Since my dad had his stroke last August, I haven't shared much about him. When I left Ohio to return to Minnesota, I was surprised that dad was even still alive. He was not expected to make it through the weekend. He did and insisted to my brothers and I that he wanted to stay in Ohio. He absolutely did not want to return to Minnesota. I truly felt that when I drove away that would be the last time I would see my dad alive. But as bad as I felt for having to leave, my life had to continue and I had to come home; my life, work and most importantly A was here.  I honestly started to feel like I was going a little insane without her; like I was barely holding myself together. I drove home almost straight through feeling exhausted and  bruised.


Since I came home last August, Dad's health has been an up/down thing and now it seems that he's declining more both mentally and physically. His heart is weak, he has not regained much mobility on his left side and the medications used to prevent blood clots is so harsh that it alone causes additional complications. 


Last fall he started calling and telling me he wanted to return to Minnesota. He called us all hours of the day and night. He left multiple repetitive and angry messages on our phones and then became even more angry when we didn't answer (we were working). He wanted my brother and I to come get him. Even now when I talk to him he goes back and forth between knowing he can't do things to thinking he can come back here, live on his own and if he could just find his keys, he would go out, get in his truck and drive himself back. He was paranoid (that's not unusual for him) but it was worse than usual and he was manipulating family members to fight each other as well as for sympathy. These behaviors have decreased a little the past few months and I think it's because he'a failing more physically. Maybe he has just given up. 


I have been a caregiver for many patients with dementia and those suffering from conditions that have caused them loss of control over their world. I understand the psychology behind these behaviors but it's different being on the inside as a family member. It's hard to block the emotional part of things; take a deep breath, step back and think about what's really going on. 


Dad doesn't know I'm coming. I didn't tell any of my family until just a few weeks ago for different reasons. If dad knew I were coming to visit, he would be convinced that A and I are picking him up to drive him back. I didn't tell my mom because I didn't want her trying to hitch a ride. He has been manipulating her to the max these past months and I know his situation contributed to her mental/depression issues. Even when I told her a few weeks ago about out trip, she asked shocked if we were planning to bring him back in the RV! Seriously, I think she's delusional too! No matter how many times I talk to her about the medical risks, financial situation and liability involved, she just doesn't get it. In the end, I end up "being the bad person" for not giving a sick man what he wants. I say bullshit! Both my brothers and I believe that he is too medically unstable to transport and if he did come back here, he would have the same complaints. He would accuse us of not taking care of him too. And I know my mother well enough to know that dad wouldn't even be here 24 hours and she would be talking about how sick she was of him. 


Well I should try to get some sleep now. Maybe since I wrote these things down my brain will be lighter. I'm sorry if things don't make sense but I weary. I'm sure I'm just making more of this situation in my mind and reality will be much better. Here's hoping.

It's a Blizzard, Baby!

It's cold, cold and fucking cold out there! That's my life here now and I'm sorry for the repetition. So another weekend at home, 20 inches of snow, wind, drifting, everything in the lower half of the state closed down. Even the roof of the Metrodome collapsed and now the poor Vikings are homeless. As if I care. I wouldn't care much normally and I care even less now.

As I stood outside shoveling poop fields for the dogs, bundled up so much I resembled the little brother from "A Christmas Story", with wind gusts blowing snow in my face, I should have known it was a sign...stormy weather coming back into my life. It's been too quiet for too long. The barometer drops and everyone goes crazy.

My dad and his family and my mom are all just getting into the game again. Dad has always been a master manipulator, now throw in a stroke, dementia, depression and the loss of control (over his body and his life) and you have manipulation to the extreme. He calls people, pushing buttons, trying to play people against each other, twisting things said/did to suit his purpose. I haven't talked to him in weeks until this weekend. I would call over and over but he wouldn't answer his phone. Friday night mom calls telling me that dad wants to come back to Minnesota, he's lonely, scared, etc. Then she's spewing all this stuff about how he's not being fed or properly cared for and on, and on, and on. I try to calm her down...I want to talk to him myself. So Sunday I finally get a chance and I just listen. I tell him that if he wants to come back to MN we can try to get things arranged but it's not going to be something that can be done overnight. He has unrealistic expectations about returning here and trying to live on his own. I know that in reality he won't be any happier living here. His condition will be the same, he will have the same complaints and the manipulations will continue. I spoke to my older brother to get his perspective and we both agreed that at least until spring we are not even going to consider moving him back.

Tonight is my late night at work and I came home to find the nastiest, rude message from my dad's sister on my voicemail. I haven't spoken to her since October, but she was accusing me of things and honestly I had no idea what she was talking about....but I have a pretty good idea where this is coming from. Honestly, throughout everything I've felt very appreciative of all that she's taken on helping dad. I realize what a lot of work it has been for her. So now I'm still awake, I have to work tomorrow and there is nothing more frustrating that getting those kinds of messages late at night when there is nothing you can say or do about them at the time. Maybe it's for the best since when I get so angry, I cry and then it's hard to communicate. But shit, it really fucks up my sleep cycle!

Really, all I want is peace and quiet. Just living my life here with A, taking care of the pups, doing my rescue duties, taking care of the things I need to and otherwise just finding happiness in what I can. I don't like people interfering in my life and try to extend the same courtesies to others. I'm really at the point of washing my hands with the whole situation and with every drama, I'm finding the sense of duty and the guilt I carry around about "being there" slipping away.

Thanksgiving Was Here. Winter Returns Too.

Thanksgiving came and went quietly. I woke up early this morning...well actually Orville woke me early by scooting up next to my pillow, licking my cheek and giving me a pleading look. I stumbled upstairs and out into the frigid morning; always the doorman. A slept in for awhile since she has to be up early tomorrow for work. Later we ate breakfast and just did some household chores; very un-exciting, very un-holiday like. In fact with nothing cooking or baking in the house it didn't seem much like Thanksgiving at all. I tried several times to call Dad but was unable to reach him. I left a couple messages instead. My older brother is there visiting and I know they were taking Dad out of the rehab facility for dinner today.

Don't worry we didn't go without our turkey dinner and this afternoon went to the home of A's aunt and uncle and had a lovely time hanging out with the retirees. We were invited to her brother's home but we both didn't want to deal with their screaming, obnoxious, rude children and some equally rude adults. That could be an entire post in itself.

Tomorrow morning I will be up early but NOT to participate in Black Friday shopping madness. NO WAY! I know so many people who look forward all year to this one shopping day but to me it looks and feels like a nightmare. Instead I will haul myself up to put the beef brisket in the oven, start preparing egg noodles and baking bread. That's right, I'm the one cooking tomorrow; alert the fire department. No really I can cook but so seldom do because I don't enjoy it except for the rare special occasions. Mom is coming for a belated Thanksgiving dinner and dragging along her pet, aka well-meaning but annoying boyfriend. They usually don't hang around too long though.

The weather has turned here suddenly and we went from unseasonably warm 60's and sunny to unseasonably cold 2 degrees. Our last nice weekend it was nearly 70 degrees, the collie came to visit, we played ball with the dogs and they chased each other in the yard. There was still some green in our world.

One week later we woke on a Saturday morning to 10 inches of snow. We had to get up and pull out the shovels to clear the deck, stairs and patio just so the dogs could go outside.

Since then it has been nothing but cold, overcast, freezing rain, sleet and snow. I don't give a damn about the snow but I truly hate the ice and I still need the sunshine. I like to sit in front of the window and soak it in, even if it's all an illusion.  This weather means lots of indoor time and I end up curling up on the couch with a book or movie plus several dogs to keep me company. Since bringing in dog #8, the dynamics of the pack have changed and my Sia wants to make sure everyone know I belong to her at nap time. There are also 3 others laying by my feet.

Actually Cassie (dog #8) has been one of the more challenging fosters I've had in a long time. She is a sweetie with people but has problems with other dogs. She is food-aggressive, territorial, and possessive. She doesn't give the warning growl--she goes straight in for the attack. After the first few days she was here, I was ready to send her back! In 5 days I had broken up more dog fights than in the last 4 years I've had Chins. I thought she was going to have to permanently live in a kennel. It's just unusual for this breed to not get along. I was especially pissed when my dogs started acting fearful of her. I will not tolerate my dogs feeling uncomfortable or fearful in their own home. Her former foster offered to take her back, our foster coordinator was looking for another foster home where she could be the only dog (yeah right!) but after I had time to sleep on it (that's when I do my best problem-solving), A and I agreed that we've had worse and would not give up so easily. We came up with a plan to anticipate/remove her triggers and do some training to modify her behavior and help her gain confidence. She's been here 2.5 weeks and is coming along great. She seems to especially love her new best friend Jill.

Last night I had the rare treat of catching a group shot of the whole crew, minus Gizzy who has bad balance and is afraid of falling down the stairs. So here is a picture of 7 out of 8...and they are all looking at the camera for once. A very rare picture indeed.

Left to right: Popper, Jill, Cassie, Orville, Nifty, Sia
Front: Timmy

Hope everyone has a safe and enjoyable holiday weekend.

The Sun Will Come Up Tomorrow

Only it will be an hour earlier. I guarantee I will not be up to see it on a Sunday morning. I will be snuggled and warm in my bed with fresh clean sheets and fresh clean dogs to match. I don't know how fresh and clean A will be. :) I've watched a few lovely sunrises the last few weeks as I drove to work but I'm really more of a sunset person. Friday night we had such a beautiful evening; there was no wind and the lakes were as smooth as glass. It makes for some beautiful scenery when I take the time to enjoy. I didn't have my camera with me but I took this picture about 5 miles from my home one other night when the sky looked very similar.

I can't believe Halloween came and went. A and I were just not in the mood this year. The Saturday night before we went to hang out with our friend, Faye, while her boyfriend JK (the Elvis impersonator) performed. She got a costume the week before but just wasn't feeling it at all that night either. The three of us sat toward the back, ate pizza, people watched and gossiped. JK has his groupies and some are there so often they have become part of the act. I'm always flabbergasted by the number of drunks who yell at a man dressed as Elvis to "sing some Johnny Cash!" It never fails and JK has actually worked it into his act and will sing a song if it's requested. That night some drunk guy dressed as a sheik took it a step further by thinking it was karaoke. He stumbled and muttered the lyrics for the first half of the song and Elvis actually had to catch him before he took out a speaker.

Halloween evening we had beautiful weather. Most of the time it's very cold and the kids have to be bundled up over their costumes. One year it was so frigid and blowing sleet so parents were driving their kids door-to-door.  We had our light on, pumpkin carved and lit and a huge bowl of candy. We popped Jiffy Pop and watched scary movies. We waited for hours and only had 5 trick-or-treaters (3 of them live on my street)! I live in town but I'm on a dead end street and I think the kids just don't come over this way. I could stand on my front porch and hear the kids on the other side of the park. Anyway that means I had a huge bowl of candy left that I promptly threw in the freezer. A only carved one pumpkin this year but she said I was her inspiration.

Halloween I decided to extend the olive branch to my younger brother after our bitchy late night conversation 2.5 weeks prior. He didn't answer and didn't return my call. Later that night I thought I would check my sister-in-law's Facebook to see if she posted pictures of my nephews in their costumes. That's when I found I had been blocked by her.

Really?!!!! It really wasn't that big of a disagreement. I just told him I was tired of the bitching and he should help mom after all the help she's given him. I had not written one thing about the situation on FB either. There's the part of me that thinks "it's only FB" and it's infantile behavior but there's that other part of me that can't help but feel hurt. I don't regret what I said and if I had the chance to do it again, I would say it exactly the same. I only spoke the truth. Tonight I realized I have now been de-friended by my bother, his wife and my oldest nephew. It's only FB, right?  I admit I cried. It hurts. They've done a lot of stupid things, have had a rocky marriage both personally and financially and I have stood by through a lot of shit and only spoke up once when the kids were getting affected by their parents' behavior. So now I'm cut off for daring to say one thing against them.

So tonight I'll cry and feel the hurt. I'll mourn the fact that during the last year my family has disintegrated and morphed into people I hardly recognize. I'll think about the last time I saw my nephews in the hospital in Ohio when they came to see Dad after his stroke. I'll remember how my 10 year old nephew cuddled up next to me at the hotel and we cried together. He's so smart and sensitive...way too mature for his age and worries all the time about his parents and the things he has no control over. I have always seen a whole lot of myself in that boy.  I'll hate how they use their children as emotional blackmail. I'll want to get in the car, drive 5.5 hours and confront them. Instead I will cry it out, go to bed, curl up next to A and whisper how much I love her, hug my fur-kids (and fosters too) and think of the wonderful friends in my life who have become my real family. The sun will come up tomorrow; I'll feel better after getting it out tonight and I'll never let them see how much it hurts.

Now I remember why I don't call...

...or answer your calls or even listen to the whole message you left on my voicemail.

Several weeks ago I just felt like everything was imploding. I was dealing with dad, mom, brothers, dad's siblings, hospitals, doctors, social workers, insurance companies, and that list goes on and on and on. That of course is on top of MY everyday normal life, relationship and work. For months my phone rang non-stop, taking calls, dealing with issues. It is always" I need help with.." or "You've gotta take care of...".

I don't mind helping but when the bitching and back-stabbing starts, I'm finished. It turned into dad calling from Ohio over and over to tell me to take care of some things that I had no power to handle. Then when I suggested he legally designate someone as power of attorney (a suggestion my older brother was on board with) dad gets crazy paranoid and starts accusing me of trying to get power to put him in a nursing home. When the shit hit the fan, guess which brother backed out; it wasn't HIS idea. Fucking asshole!! I threw up my hands and told them all if they could do it so well, then go for it.

I went to the hills with my love and my family. I surrounded myself with things that make me happy. I re-focused on enjoying my life. I stopped calling and stopped accepting a lot of calls. I had some peace and quiet.

So why the fucking hell did I return that phone call to my mom tonight?  Her message sounded okay but by the time I called the sobbing and self-pity had started. There's just so much anger in her and she just keeps holding onto it. I can hear her starting to spiral down again. There comes a point when you can't help those who don't help themselves. Then I have my older brother bitching about dad's will and how unfair it is.  I explained that I agreed to execute his will as he wanted it and I have no power over anything. Plus, get this asshole, DAD'S NOT DEAD!!! Greedy fucker!  The final phone call was from my younger brother. Usually these are pretty safe but I should have known better tonight. He started bitching (again) about the small bill he has paid for my mom the last 4 months. Well, as you can imagine I was not in the mood and told him how I felt. Over the last 10+ years mom (primarily) and dad have given them so much money, paid utility bills and rent, bought clothing and food all because of the grandkids. I told him I was sick of hearing him complain about it after all the money mom has given to him and his family through the years. There were crickets on the line and before I lost control I said good-bye and hung up.

Even with all the bullshit, tomorrow when the anger dies down I will feel guilty; guilty for not calling, not accepting calls and guilty for not doing more. This girl can't fucking win!!!

I feel like the girl on the box of Morton salt, "When it rains, it pours."

Lately the weekends have lost their luster and I find myself actually looking forward to the work week; it's normal, routine. I have something else to focus on. Three of the last four weekends have been some sort of drama so today I spent as my own personal mental health day; sipping tea, sitting in the warm sunshine and blogging. It was our anniversary Saturday but A has been in and out of the house all weekend; on-call again and always some "crisis" to deal with. We managed to sneak out for dinner tonight to our favorite Japanese restaurant but no other celebrations this weekend. Plus I'm amazed to report that even since I hit the "Place Order" button for my Mac, this damn PC has been functioning fine. Three months of daily bullshit and now it behaves?! It doesn't matter now how well it works, I've crossed that bridge and I'm not going back.

My dad has been up and down with an especially bad time Labor day weekend. I received a call from neurologist Sunday morning around 1am telling me he probably wasn't going to make it again. He had been unresponsive for 2 days, blood pressure and heart rate critically low. I was up most of the night; on the phone with doctors, nurses, family. Sunday morning at 10am he was sitting up in bed eating breakfast. They stabilized him enough to place a pacemaker, he's back in rehab and we've had one good week. So hey, I think things are looking up.

**Warning, things get depressing after this so if you want to quit reading, I'll understand.

I may have hinted to the fact that there has been some mama drama in my life recently also, but for the most part I've tried to avoid discussing it with too many people and it's just felt too personal to share here. Now I feel I just need to write it down. The last 1.5 years I've watched my mom's life spiral out of control. She started dating a guy who is an alcoholic, then she started drinking too and well it just does down hill from there. I just can't understand how someone barely drinks for the first 55 years of their life (well except for the occasional have a few drinks and live it up) can so quickly go down the other path. More and more she was drunk and her behavior erratic. She was lying to me about everything. I found myself putting more and more distance between us. It just became to difficult to watch and I could feel myself getting pulled into the situation.

I know that the root of mom's problems stems from the fact that she's suffered with severe depression her entire life. It's been a constant cycle; she hits bottom, goes on medication, evens out so stops taking the medication, then cycles back down. This year has been extra rough on her. First my brother and his family moved away in April, June she lost her job and now in August dad had a stroke. She came to Ohio with my younger brother to see him, but he refused to let her in his hospital room (for reasons only he knows). When she got out of the van in Ohio it was the first time I had seen her in months...she was barely recognizable.

Since then she had called me several times always slurring and crying. Friday I received one of these calls on my way home from work. She was asking me to help her, telling me she just wants to die and how she's considering taking pills and ending it all. I told her I would help her by taking her to a hospital. I drove to the apartment she's been sharing with a friend to find her in a terrible state; unable to stand, wailing uncontrollably, and begging to die. I called 911 and after spending the night in a local hospital she was transferred to a mental health unit. That's where she is tonight and for a few days at least, I don't have to worry.

All this time I've been accusing her of drinking, but when we arrived at the ER, I found a pill bottle in her purse with no label and pills I didn't recognize. When the doctor identified them, we found they contained Valium. Her "good friend", the nurse with a narcotic problem who always quits her job when things start coming up missing, gave them to her to help with anxiety. Valium + depression + alcohol = one very big mess!

A is a saint for putting up with all this shit. I can feel her eyes on me observing every move and mood; watching me for a sign, waiting for me to have a tearful breakdown. Honestly for some reason I have not; not through all of dad's situation and not through mom's drama either. I'm still in problem-solving deal with things mode. I can't let myself be too emotionally involved because then things don't get done. I don't have the luxury of sitting around feeling sorry for myself. I talk to A and discuss how I feel. I rant and bitch about bad decisions but for the most part what I feel right now is just anger and annoyance. I feel myself wanting to close off and I have to constantly remind myself to not block out A and the other important people in my life. Hmm, how long before I have to check myself in for a mental health vacation too?

Update and More Straight People Weirdness

Around here things have greatly improved...along with my state of mind. Thank you all for your kind words, thoughts and prayers. It means more to me than I can express.

I'm happy to report that dad has greatly improved. Just a little over a week after having a stroke and given 2-3 days to live, he has now been transferred into the rehabilitation center and is improving daily. I talked to him on the phone this weekend and although his speech is still slurred, we can still carry on a decent conversation. He's bitching about the hospital food and staff so he's definitely on the mend. My brother and I moved his stuff out of his apartment Saturday in record time. My brother brought his son, step-son and a friend. Man those young guys sure can move! I didn't lift one heavy box or piece of furniture and we were finished in 3 hours.

A missed me like crazy while I was away (and the feeling was mutual) so she's been extra sweet and following me around with "google" eyes. This weekend I finally asked her why she was looking at me so goofy. She asked if I would rather have her leering at me. Well not really but then she laughed and said when she looks at me with those goofy eyes, she's looking at the woman she loves. When she looks at me with that leering look (which only happened one time when I was wearing a naughty Ms. Santa outfit) she looking at me like the naughty girl she wants me to be. UGH!!! She knows saying something like that could make me jump from a moving car and loves to get me embarrassed.

I wanted share another experience had while visiting my dad. I have been in some contact mostly via text with the old school friend who contacted me this spring. For the most part, the conversation is all about her (nothing new about that) but she knew I was in town and insisted we meet for dinner and drinks before I left to return home. Monday night I finally agreed. We had not seen each other in over 12 years but the night went okay and mostly I just sat there sipping my drink and listening to her babble on about her new boyfriend, not yet ex-husband and kids. I loved the fact her mom came to see me too since I practically lived at their home when I was a kid and she was like my second mom.

After her mom left, she started telling me how her new boyfriend wants to bring another man or woman into their bed. She's interested but nervous and he wants her to be the one to go out and find another woman to bring in. Earlier she had sent him a picture of the two of us and then he sends a message back asking if I wanted to "join them". Seriously, is there something tattooed on my forehead that says "hey, ask me and I'll do anything"! I politely declined and told them that I'm in a committed, monogamous relationship and have no desire to change that. I was too tired to say much more but when I returned home and shared the story with  A and other friends, I can't help but find myself more and more annoyed. Is this really what people think? Do they really believe we are all bed-hoppers, up for anyone, anyway, anyhow?

Silence Broken

I can't believe it's been a month since I posted. Time has been flying and I'm running to keep up. Every time I've attempted to write, I just can't find the words. There has been so much drama lately and I have not known where to start. So this will likely be just a long post about what I'm dealing with right now---You are warned.

I know I've written about my father being diagnosed with rectal cancer last September. He went through a lot of testing and finally started 5 weeks of chemotherapy and radiation around Thanksgiving. He did very well through his treatments and then had surgery at the beginning of March. For the most part, he came through that pretty well too. Then in May he started another 4 months of chemotherapy. He was feeling great and even went back to work part-time while he was finishing his treatments. Two weeks ago he returned to Ohio to visit his brother and sister like he does every year around this time. After a couple days, he started having trouble breathing and was admitted to the hospital and diagnosed with congestive heart failure. His heart was only working at 15% and they had to remove fluid from inside and outside his lungs as well as around his heart. The doctors believe the chemo has damaged his heart and it's very weak. I have to agree since he had multiple tests on his heart prior to starting his first chemotherapy and again before he had surgery in March and all tests came back okay.

Last Thursday he was released from the hospital and my older brother was planning to fly down over the weekend and drive him home. I went to bed at 11:30pm Thursday night and at 12:30am my older brother called to tell me dad had a stroke and was airlifted to Ohio State University hospital. I immediately got up and started packing to leave but by 2am I had been up nearly 24 hours and A insisted I try to get some sleep before making the drive.

Friday while I was on the road, I got a call from the doctor telling me that there was nothing they could do to treat dad. His heart was only working at 10% and he was forming blood clots and had one near his heart. They couldn't give him blood thinners for the clots because of the hemorrhage in his brain. In the doctor's opinion, dad only had 2-3 days to live. My older brother was flying out in the morning and my younger brother was on the road from South Dakota. I got into Columbus early Saturday morning and the outlook was not very good.

It was a long weekend but somehow by Monday morning dad had improved and was actually joking around with the doctor when he came in during rounds. The doctor told us he was amazed to see dad still alive and apologized for his call on Friday. Monday they started treating him with blood thinners for the clots. On Tuesday they moved dad out of ICU and today they moved him to the rehab part of the hospital. He is not really in the clear though. His heart is still very weak and there's a real possibility of another clot causing a stroke or heart attack or his heart just failing completely. At this point it's still one day at a time. Tuesday I had to make the decision about when I had to leave and come home. Tuesday night I was back on the road to Minnesota. My brother left Tuesday too. Even though the reality is that I need to return to work and I can't just sit there indefinitely, I can't help but feel guilty like I'm dumping the situation on my aunt and uncle. Dad refuses to return to MN; he wants to stay in OH for rehab and make it a permanent move.  Now I'm so far away and have to handle things. This weekend  my brother and I are moving everything out of his apartment and putting it in storage. There's just a lot to figure out and I'm trying to avoid some other people's drama (mainly my mother's). Mom drama is the topic of a whole other post. It's too exhausting to think about...or write about.

So that's what's happening in my life right now. It didn't help me to be away from A for so long. We were in constant contact but I just felt lost without her. She was at home with the dogs and feeling guilty for not being with me. When she came home from work Wednesday, we just curled up and I slept the best sleep I had in days. You can't pay for therapy that works any better than that.

A little of this and that...

I'm glad my readers enjoyed my guest's post. A really enjoyed doing it and now I feel like I'm constantly being watched...she's just itching to dish some goofy thing I do. :)

First I have to share that A and I did buy ourselves a cute, retro RV. We picked it up 2 weeks ago and then had to give it a full and complete cleaning. My OCD ass was NOT sleeping in there until it was cleaned and disinfected! It is a 1987 model so it has the most awesome seafoam green upholstery. At first we considered covering everything but I think we really have to embrace the retro feel. The one thing that had to go is the carpet. Not only is it filthy (who in the hell has carpet when camping) but if I'm travelling with 5 dogs I need easy clean up. Today I ripped out that old nasty carpet (another major germ-phobic attack, especially the bathroom-YUCK!!) and started laying the new vinyl flooring. Once that is done, the Winnebago will be ready for her first trip. We are not planning any major trips this summer-just some weekends at state parks. We will see what the future holds.

Last weekend we moved my brother and family to South Dakota. For two weeks prior everytime I saw my brother and sister-in-law they talked about how they were getting the packing done. Friday night I went over to help load stuff and discovered they were not nearly packed. I went to bed at 1am and got back up at 8am on Saturday to go help more. We finally finished and left town early afternoon and drove 5.5 hours to their new house, unpacked and then drove 5.5 hours home. I got home at 5:30am Sunday after being stopped by the cops twice for speeding and I was lucky to get away with a warning both times. Whew!! As if things weren't stressful enough my mother thought our packing/moving days would be a good time to bring along a bottle of brandy and act like an asshole. That's a whole other issue that I'm not ready to get into in this post.

I went to bed at 6am Sunday, got back up at 9am and took my foster puppy to meet a potiental adopter. That was another 1.5 hour drive each way. They had offered to come meet me, but I wanted to be able to spend some time checking them out too and making sure Jayna was comfortable. I'm happy to report that Jayna stayed at her new home that day.

Of course I cried but managed to (mostly) hold it together until I made it out of their home and into my car. I was crying so much I actually missed my exit and had to drive around a bit to get home. This was the first time I've ever done this by myself; usually A is always there with me and so then I crumble easier since I know I have her there to be the strong one. Instead I went to Starbucks and ordered the largest Java Chip frappachino I could get, the barista looked at me like I was nuts, and buried myself in 800 calories.

Then last Wedensday I came home from work, turned on my computer and after a few minutes got the dreaded blue screen. It's been doing it more and more recently and I've been telling A the computer was on its last leg. I would just pull the power, re-start and it would come back to life. I've been staying on top of my back-ups and waiting for the end. This time when I tried to restart there was nothing. It was done. But now we have no computer and of course we do EVERYTHING online these days. I have been planning my switch to a Mac but I'm just not prepared yet. Off we go to the electronics store to purchase a computer fast. We bought another PC just to get us through for awhile but I've had it with the PC bullshit!!

Finally, just when I thought we could slow down a bit I got a call Friday night from the woman who runs our rescue. One of our foster homes got "busted" for being over the city limit for dogs and now we have to move dogs to other homes fast. It's a desperate moment so A and I agreed to take two more fosters. Today I'm meeting the foster mom and it will be a surprise who I'm bringing home. Looks like I'll be travelling with seven this summer. Holy shit!!

Finding My Center

Last Thursday I left work late after another extremely trying and stressful day to walk into a hornets nest. My phone had several angry messages waiting and people were calling to bitch some more. Basically, my dad was up to his games again. He had called late Wedensday night to ask my younger brother to help him with something the next day. My younger brother said he already had committments in the morning but would come over in the afternoon. He then called me to let me know he would be helping dad so I didn't have to worry about it. Well dad being the impatient, world-revolves-around-me person that he is decided that wasn't good enough.  Around noon on Thursday he called my older brother at work and told him that my younger brother was supposed to show up that morning and had not. Dad said he called him and my bro said he would be there in a 1/2 hour then didn't show up so dad called again and my bro said he was on his way out the door and 2 hours later had not showed up. So my older brother gets mad and calls my younger brother and starts yelling at him on the phone and they get into an arguement. Then my younger brother calls my mom and before I know it I have all these people calling me.

I walked into my dad's place and he was ranting at me about everyone and I listened for about a minute and then I lost it and yelled at him to knock this shit off. I didn't appreciate leaving work and having to deal with this and then told him that unless this bullshit stopped, I was walking and he was on his own. He immediately stopped and dropped his head. I have to admit I even shocked myself a bit. The act of yelling at someone is highly unusual for me. I'm the peace-maker, the logical one, the one who tries to solve the problems. When I yell, I mean business. After dealing with dad it was time to deal with my brothers. I called the older one and discussed that fact that dad had twisted the truth just to get him angry and we couldn't let him play us against each other; we had to be a united front. Dad was playing the poor-poor-pity me game and attention seeking. Negative attention is better than none, right? Plus he always wants to be in control.

Now I wish I could say that dad's manipulative behavior was related to his illness but that would be delusional in my part. He has always been this way-controlling, manipulative, selfish, narcissistic. He's never at fault, always the victim, always right, short tempered (he communicates by yelling) and just talks at you constantly. My uncle described him the best by stating that "until just recently he never realized there was anyone in this world other than him".

My parents have been divorced since I was six years old and all my life dad has done everything possible to keep control over mom, stalking her and interfering and destroying every relationship she ever tried to have. When I was a kid it was common for him to stalk around our house at night and peek in the windows trying to catch mom doing something with someone. When we went for Sunday visits with dad he would question me (at age 8-10 years old) asking if my mom had any men around and and telling me things like "you know your mother is having sex with *insert name*". Sometimes he would even accuse her of being involved with her cousin or nephew. How sick is that?!!! On these same Sundays when he was supposed to be spending time with his children he would drive my younger brother and I around all day while he was stalking some married woman he was running around with. I witnessed more verbal fights than I can remember, numerous physical altercations and my mom receiving one severe beating. This behavior continued on-and-off into adulthood. My mom had several restraining orders against him over the years; he would settle down for awhile then start again. When I was around 19-20 we even had a physical altercation when he showed up at my apartment threatening and refusing to leave my home. He then went to his job and told people how he was going to shoot my mom, brother (he was still a minor at the time) and I and anyone else who was in the way.

By the time I turned 30 I had enough. After one more terrible situation I just said to myself "I'm 30 years old and I don't have to deal with this shit anymore". I walked away and until he was diagnosed with cancer last fall, we had not spoken 5 words to each other in nearly 3 years. He came to me asking for my help. He needed someone to be responsible. I agreed and accepted the responsibility because I felt it was my duty.

Isn't it funny how posts sometimes mutate into something completely different than what you planned? I know I have a lot of unresolved anger and every time I try to put it aside, rise above and be the bigger person he has to act this way and remind me why I walked away in the first place...actually it tempts me to walk away again and just say fuck it once and for all. The only thing that keeps me around is my sense of duty--that duty to care for your parents. Why I feel it so strongly, I really don't know. Maybe it was instilled with me during childhood since my mom took care of my grandpa. Maybe it's from the years of working in the nursing home and witnessing how some families take no interest in their elderly/sick family. Maybe it's just part of being a woman. Maybe it's just my weakness.

Thats why this weekend I decided it was going to be about me. I had to just spend time doing what I wanted to do with the people I wanted to spend time with. I actually felt much better after my "blow-up". I just wanted to curl up next to A and have her hold me. She is my center, my peace, my stability and my saving grace. I think I've said before that from time to time we just need to stop and re-connect with each other; shut out the outside world and just be together. Maybe that's the key to our happiness together. We went shopping Friday night, went out for dinner and drinks with friends Saturday night, caught up on our episodes of The Soup, finally watched  "500 Days of Summer" (it's been sitting at my house for 3 weeks), spent time with the pups, rode our bicycles all over town and just relaxed in general. I feel renewed.

This is my idea of a nap. The newest foster puppy, Jayna, is sleeping on my chest, the old man, Giz, on my stomach and Orv at my feet. A took this picture and said at one time there were actually four dogs sleeping with me but Tim had moved when she went to grab the camera.

Today I was asked by the rescue to organize a "Meet-N-Greet" at one of the pet supply stores near my home. Basically we just set up an info table and talk to people about our rescue, educate about puppy-mills and the breed and show off some of the dogs waiting for homes. I've been to a few to bring my foster dogs for people to meet but have never actually done the organization of an event. It will be something new but it gives me a purpose and will do anything to raise awareness and hopefully get some dogs into new homes. Now I have plans for next weekend and once agin I will be focusing on doing the things I want to do.

I've been a bit absent here in blogger world. I've stopped by to read a little but have been too mentally exhausted to comment, so I've chosen to remain silent. Please don't feel I'm ignoring you.

Last Friday my dad had surgery to remove his colon and entire large intestine. He completed his chemotherapy and radiation shortly after the new year and since then has been just resting and preparing for this surgery. He spent over 5 hours in surgery and then another 3 hours in recovery before they settled him in a room. Then I had a nearly 2 hour drive home. Saturday morning I returned to the hospital to visit and after several hours I was so tired of his disgustingly rude behavior that I decided to come home for the rest of the afternoon. About 40 mins away from the hospital, I received a call that dad had coughed and his incision had re-opened. Back to the hospital I go, wait for the doctors to come exam and then they took him back into surgery to fix him up again. It turned into another late night.

As if the surgery isn't stressful enough, pile on my dad's bad attitude/terrible patient status and my mother's psycho behavior and you have a really big mess! I don't even want to waste the time and energy trying to even write about my mom's nuclear meltdown but I say I think she's got some kind of psychosis happening there. She was so out of control that I just stopped answering her phone calls.

Now for something positive. I can't bitch and complain and then leave things on a negative note.

My uncle (dad's younger brother) came here to stay during dad's surgery. I have not seen this man since I was 19 years old and have only spoken to him a couple times since then on the phone around the holidays (just the "hi, how are you?" holiday wishes kind of conversation). I was a little concerned about how he would be to deal with but to my surprise, he has been absolutely wonderfully helpful to me in dealing with dad. I can't even begin to express my gratitude and how much I appreciate all he did (and put up with). Friday I arrived at the hospital feeling absolutely stressed and exhausted to the point of tears and he just gave me a big hug and said, "baby girl, it will be alright". You know, sometimes that's all you need; just a little comfort and understanding. Saturday we had the entire day together and since we were just doing a lot of sitting and waiting, we had a lot of time to talk. We have so much in common and very similar personalities. We talked books and history and family things and a million other topics. We stopped at the bookstore, made frequent trips to starbucks and just got to know each other. It was a great experience to get reaquainted on an adult level. All these years I've been trying to figure out how I fit into this family because I couldn't look around and find anyone like me. Well I finally did and it is comforting.

Today dad came home from the hospital and tomorrow my uncle is leaving to return home. I'll be sad to see him leave but I am going to make a real effort to stay in contact. Now I'm feeling the weight of dad on my shoulders again, but for a few days at least, someone helped me carry the load.

It's the little things.

On Valentine's Day my dad called to wish me a happy day. He sounded really down and talked about how much he was missing his mother. They were always very close and he's had a difficult time since she died 3 years ago. I listened to him reminisce for awhile. He talked about her and how she was such a great cook/baker; the same stories I've heard a million times. Her applesause cake was always one of his favorites.

I pulled out the recipe box and found the envelope I stashed there several years ago. My aunt had sent grandma's original recipe card; so yellowed and smooth with age, I could barely read the faded handwriting. Luckily, my aunt had included a post-it to clarify a few instructions.

This past weekend I made that cake from scratch, following my gma's recipe and even made her homemade caramel frosting to top it. I've never made a cake from scratch and A didn't help me; well she did chop the walnuts.

I haven't tasted that cake in over 15 years but the first bite was like a flashback; back to the days of sitting in her kitchen eating as she fussed over us and cleaned up. I was shocked and amazed at how profound the memory was. I served it to dad and told him I did my best but I'm sure it wouldn't be as good as gma's. He said it was damn close and gma would have been proud. That was the best complement I could have received.

I can't remember the last time I saw my dad smile that much.