I have to take a momentarily break from my China blogging to tell you about my latest adventure. I came home from China on Monday. Tuesday I had tickets to a play downtown, Wednesday we had new carpet installed in all four bedrooms. Thursday was spent recovering from the new carpet installation. Friday was spent doing housework. Early Saturday morning, still fighting jet lag, I started the (normally) ten hour drive to my parents house. It is the stopping point on the way to my son's college.
I have not been thinking about taking my son back to college. I like him home. He worked 40+ hours each week during the summer. He spent a great deal of time fishing and another enormous chunk of time in his room away from his family, but still, he was home and at least ate dinner with us. I like him home. This week really snuck up on me and perhaps thinking about his return to college is what made my jet lag hang on and made me feel horrible. Perhaps I had separation anxiety stress, not jet lag. I like my son home.
Anyway, we loaded up his new van (a hand me down from my grandma) that has had a BUNCH of work on it. (My grandma only drove about 500 miles in the last year. We drove it 5 hours the day we brought it home.) Now we expected (and hoped and prayed) it would make the journey ahead of us. I also loaded up my car with his sisters and brother and we headed out.
We encountered car trouble four hours into the trip. MY CAR! A piece on the bottom of the car (parallel to the hood, with the engine in between) broke loose and was dragging on the highway. The noise was horrible. I pulled to the shoulder and my son followed me. He was incredible. He climbed under the car and investigated. We decided to try and patch up the problem with zip ties and duct tape (in my son's car) until lunch. We stopped earlier than planned for lunch as the patch job didn't hold. My son stopped at the dollar store and bought some bungee cords and crawled onto the ground in Wendy's parking lot, temporarily fixing the car. It held until we arrived to my parents house. It took just short of 12 hours.
We spent the next day relaxing at my parents house, and my dad inspected my car and fixed it better than the bungee cord patch as he had tools and ramps.
Monday morning we all woke early again to make the what I thought was a four hour journey to my son's college. My GPS kept freaking out, losing the satellite. My son, who is new to using a GPS had to be the leader of our caravan. His route took us a very different way than we have previously driven. It took five hours.
We had a quick lunch and then dropped my son off at his dorm. He did not want us to help him unload his car. So, we headed back to my parents. My daughter looked up driving directions on her phone. Thank goodness for technology.
About an hour into the drive, there was a dead cat on the road. I tried to have my tires straddle the dead cat, but nope, I hit it square on. YIKES! My five year old asked what happened and I carefully explained that I had run over a dead cat. He said "I hope it was an ugly cat." Apparently, ugly cats are OK to run over. My five year old also informed us that Shell gas stations sell clams. (Per the signage).
I had purchased a DVD player for the car ride to keep my little guy entertained. Unfortunately, along with the GPS losing satellites, the plug stopped working, so I was really without a GPS and now without entertainment for the little guy. It was a LONG ride back to my parents.
My dad checked out the plug when we arrived back to his house. I just blew the fuse. So, for the record, my car, two breakdowns (and it's the dependable car) and son's car (the iffy ride) no troubles.
Tuesday morning, we woke early again and started towards home. We planned to stop to eat at Noodles (a rare treat as we don't have one near us) and at an outlet store along the way as my husband is out of town and the dog was at the kennel. We thought it would be about a 12 hour journey.
The GPS was still acting up. My daughter rocked at reading an old fashioned map. Two thumbs up for her public school education! When the GPS did work, I liked to play this game with it...I see what the estimated time of arrival is, and I try to take minutes off it. It's a game of great fun. I was totally rocking at the game. I had taken off a whopping 11 minutes of the original ETA, even after a stop at a rest area, when we hit construction. We hit construction two times before we were at the halfway point of the trip, before we stopped at Noodles. ugh.
We finally made it to Noodles. We ordered and then waited, and waited for our food. When I saw three other orders served, we asked if they had forgotten us. Yep, they had. Not a fun time.
We got back in the car and headed to the outlet store. Unfortunately, there was a fatal accident on the highway. The highway closed. It took 45 minutes to drive 3 miles. By the time we reached the store, we were all a bit snippy and not really in the mood. We hit up the McDonald's drive thru and ate dinner in the car.
I stopped for gas two hours from home...had driven 491.9 miles on one tank! My girls were getting bored in the car and started making life lessons for each other. It was hilarious and informative. My fourteen year old didn't think so. She thought we were pointing out all her shortcomings. Instead, we were just trying to give some helpful life lessons.
The road trip was more than I bargained for, but so are most days. That's what keeps life interesting. I did prove to be a champion KEMPS player (card game daughter taught me) and a winner at the slug bug calling game. My kids were delighted to have 78 truckers honk at the them (note to self, pack ear plugs for the cheering that erupts after the horn blasts). I laughed at the road sign that read "No Trucks on Shoulder." I wonder how many Chinese tourists take photos of that sign. It would translate much differently than the way we read it. But, the bottom line is that my son made it safely to school and we made it safely home. The craziness that happened in between is the stuff that makes good stories. The trip home took 14 hours.
Younger daughter's life lessons for older daughter:
-Try being nicer.
-Smile
-Delete my friends from your facebook
-Be nice to me in high school.
Older daughter's life lessons for younger daughter:
-Boys are dumb
-Don't be in a rush to grow up
-You should wear the makeup, don't let the makeup wear you
-Don't show the good China (A.K.A. if you wouldn't show your grandpa, keep it covered)
-Real men like smart girls
-Talk to your momma
What would I add? Life is a journey, expect the unexpected and enjoy.
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
Thursday, August 11, 2011
Get Your China On
"Get your China on" became my motto during my trip to Beijing. Mainly it referred to being in crowds, which essentially confirms I was in China. "Getting your China on" means to disregard all things you have previously been taught about personal space, courteousness, patience, waiting your turn, littering and following posted signs or rules/instructions.
As I wrote the rough draft for this blog, I was on the airplane from Beijing to Chicago. I was seated next to a young man and woman (who were Chinese). I did not battle over the arm rest. It is clear the arm rest belongs to him. Rather, I am battling for my own shoulder and upper arm. He is overflowing his space, into mine. He is not large, just being Chinese. Before this trip, I would have simply retreated from the space someone else was trying to occupy. Today though, I am pushing back, or simply allowing the contact.
Touching is a fact of getting around in China. We made up some dance moves for riding the subway with moves called "The Nemo"(touching the butt)and "The Moonlanding" (from the t.v. show "Modern Family"). It also includes, elbows out,stand your ground and "you didn't call 'place back'".
Getting on or off the subway involves much pushing. Certainly you do not ever wait your turn. Your turn is when you feel like moving, not when there is a space. There is never a space. At the subway station, there are arrows on the floor for how to get on and off. An arrow in the center pointing out of the subway car and two arrows on each side, pointing diagonally to get into the subway car. This motion happens all at once. To me it is like squeezing a zit, pressure from the sides and the stuff comes out the middle. Sometimes you ride the wave of motion into or out of the subway car. Sometimes you are like a salmon struggling upstream. And always remember this, the subway car is not full until the doors close. (As a contrast, at O'Hare airport, the same arrows are on the floor of the tram that moves you from one terminal to the next. However, there is also a sign saying "Let passengers out of tram before loading." And get this...people actually observe and follow the instruction.)
This I know for sure, the American Indian ads that ran when we were kids about littering, the one with the man who had tears streaming down his face, he probably rolls over in his grave at the sight of all the litter in China. People throw their trash anywhere, into animal exhibits, into streams, ponds, restaurant floors, temple grounds, anywhere. Everywhere.
We went to the Beijing Zoo. A few games we played there was "contact zoo" and "spot the bottlefish" (discarded bottles in the water). I wish I had worn my football shoulder pads to go to the zoo. You have to fight your way through the people to see anything. I proved a quick study at this game and won the round near the panda exhibit scoring some decent photos. Actually, my sister in law held off some people so I could get the photo. Then she said "I have held them off as long as possible." The next thing I know, I am riding the wave of people headed a different direction.
I was home for less than 24 hours, and went downtown to see a play with my daughter. It was VERY hard to restrain myself from pushing through the crowds and be American and polite. I can't imagine the adjustment my brother and sister in law will have. They are spending 18 months in China.
It's interesting, in China, you really don't need to use a thermometer. To gauge the weather, simply observe the men around you. The men lift or roll their shirts, exposing their bellies when it's hot. As best I could tell, it's around 80 degrees when belly buttons are showing. Ribs show for temps of 80-85. Nipples are exposed for temps ranging from 85-90. Over 90, shirts are off and over the shoulder. I found this system of checking the temperature rather accurate, although I couldn't figure out the sliding scale used when humidity was factored in. The question I really have is this , why wasn't Taylor Lautner visiting Beijing when I was?
My flight to Beijing from Chicago was mainly Chinese people. I was surprised to see how few obeyed the seatbelt on sign. From the moment the plane doors closed, several people messed with luggage in the overhead bins, wandered the aisles and visited the restroom. The flight attendants were near hoarse by the time we reached cruising altitude from constantly telling people to sit down.
It became quickly obvious when touring Beijing that posted signs are more of a suggestion rather than a rule to be followed. "No Climbing" meant more "Climb at your own risk". (Even I tested the boundaries of a 'No Climbing' sign...I mean, "when in Rome..." right?) Guard rails at the zoo were disregarded, kids and adults both pounded on the glass of animal exhibits. It was very surprising.
My favorite round of "Get Your China On" was crossing the street. There are no buttons to push for walk signals. There ARE signals, but they are highly ignored. Pedestrians in China do NOT have the right of way. If you do choose to cross the street when the "Walk" signal is illuminated, it means that most traffic has momentarily paused but that you should beware of the cars, bikes, mopeds and other vehicles heading straight for you. The imaginary bubble I usually keep around myself to distance me from vehicles is significantly smaller after visiting China. I have learned to play a mean game of chicken, and managed to keep my pants dry while doing so. My sister in law stopped a car once with an invisible force field shot out from her hand. It was amazing. I actually applauded her. A car came so close to my brother that his watch scratched the guys car.
Basically crossing the street in China was like playing Frogger. As soon as the back bumper passes you, take a step or two forward. Watch carefully. Hop forward, backward, left or right, then step quickly to the sidewalk. Always be ready to stop or adjust your direction. Always avoid going "splat".
In China I found that you either laugh at things, or you'll crack. "Contact Zoo" and subway games of Nemo are not for everyone, and definitely not for those without a sense of humor. Please don't try these games in the U.S.. You will be arrested for assault, or ticketed for endangerment.
As I wrote the rough draft for this blog, I was on the airplane from Beijing to Chicago. I was seated next to a young man and woman (who were Chinese). I did not battle over the arm rest. It is clear the arm rest belongs to him. Rather, I am battling for my own shoulder and upper arm. He is overflowing his space, into mine. He is not large, just being Chinese. Before this trip, I would have simply retreated from the space someone else was trying to occupy. Today though, I am pushing back, or simply allowing the contact.
Touching is a fact of getting around in China. We made up some dance moves for riding the subway with moves called "The Nemo"(touching the butt)and "The Moonlanding" (from the t.v. show "Modern Family"). It also includes, elbows out,stand your ground and "you didn't call 'place back'".
Getting on or off the subway involves much pushing. Certainly you do not ever wait your turn. Your turn is when you feel like moving, not when there is a space. There is never a space. At the subway station, there are arrows on the floor for how to get on and off. An arrow in the center pointing out of the subway car and two arrows on each side, pointing diagonally to get into the subway car. This motion happens all at once. To me it is like squeezing a zit, pressure from the sides and the stuff comes out the middle. Sometimes you ride the wave of motion into or out of the subway car. Sometimes you are like a salmon struggling upstream. And always remember this, the subway car is not full until the doors close. (As a contrast, at O'Hare airport, the same arrows are on the floor of the tram that moves you from one terminal to the next. However, there is also a sign saying "Let passengers out of tram before loading." And get this...people actually observe and follow the instruction.)
This I know for sure, the American Indian ads that ran when we were kids about littering, the one with the man who had tears streaming down his face, he probably rolls over in his grave at the sight of all the litter in China. People throw their trash anywhere, into animal exhibits, into streams, ponds, restaurant floors, temple grounds, anywhere. Everywhere.
We went to the Beijing Zoo. A few games we played there was "contact zoo" and "spot the bottlefish" (discarded bottles in the water). I wish I had worn my football shoulder pads to go to the zoo. You have to fight your way through the people to see anything. I proved a quick study at this game and won the round near the panda exhibit scoring some decent photos. Actually, my sister in law held off some people so I could get the photo. Then she said "I have held them off as long as possible." The next thing I know, I am riding the wave of people headed a different direction.
I was home for less than 24 hours, and went downtown to see a play with my daughter. It was VERY hard to restrain myself from pushing through the crowds and be American and polite. I can't imagine the adjustment my brother and sister in law will have. They are spending 18 months in China.
It's interesting, in China, you really don't need to use a thermometer. To gauge the weather, simply observe the men around you. The men lift or roll their shirts, exposing their bellies when it's hot. As best I could tell, it's around 80 degrees when belly buttons are showing. Ribs show for temps of 80-85. Nipples are exposed for temps ranging from 85-90. Over 90, shirts are off and over the shoulder. I found this system of checking the temperature rather accurate, although I couldn't figure out the sliding scale used when humidity was factored in. The question I really have is this , why wasn't Taylor Lautner visiting Beijing when I was?
My flight to Beijing from Chicago was mainly Chinese people. I was surprised to see how few obeyed the seatbelt on sign. From the moment the plane doors closed, several people messed with luggage in the overhead bins, wandered the aisles and visited the restroom. The flight attendants were near hoarse by the time we reached cruising altitude from constantly telling people to sit down.
It became quickly obvious when touring Beijing that posted signs are more of a suggestion rather than a rule to be followed. "No Climbing" meant more "Climb at your own risk". (Even I tested the boundaries of a 'No Climbing' sign...I mean, "when in Rome..." right?) Guard rails at the zoo were disregarded, kids and adults both pounded on the glass of animal exhibits. It was very surprising.
My favorite round of "Get Your China On" was crossing the street. There are no buttons to push for walk signals. There ARE signals, but they are highly ignored. Pedestrians in China do NOT have the right of way. If you do choose to cross the street when the "Walk" signal is illuminated, it means that most traffic has momentarily paused but that you should beware of the cars, bikes, mopeds and other vehicles heading straight for you. The imaginary bubble I usually keep around myself to distance me from vehicles is significantly smaller after visiting China. I have learned to play a mean game of chicken, and managed to keep my pants dry while doing so. My sister in law stopped a car once with an invisible force field shot out from her hand. It was amazing. I actually applauded her. A car came so close to my brother that his watch scratched the guys car.
Basically crossing the street in China was like playing Frogger. As soon as the back bumper passes you, take a step or two forward. Watch carefully. Hop forward, backward, left or right, then step quickly to the sidewalk. Always be ready to stop or adjust your direction. Always avoid going "splat".
In China I found that you either laugh at things, or you'll crack. "Contact Zoo" and subway games of Nemo are not for everyone, and definitely not for those without a sense of humor. Please don't try these games in the U.S.. You will be arrested for assault, or ticketed for endangerment.
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
I Went to China and Got 5 Inches
First of all, Mom, I know you are reading this and so I apologize for the implied adult content.
My older younger brother (M) and his wife (T) invited me to visit them for a week in Beijing China. They are in China for my brother's work and go to Beijing every six weeks or so for a retreat from their normal very Chinese life. Although clearly Beijing is still in China, we did see a fair number of non Chinese people and ate a fair amount of American food. Although, because Beijing is still clearly in China, I saw many things that are very Chinese. It was a trip of a lifetime, a huge adventure and I loved every second of it.
While looking for souvenirs for my kids, I came across a "I (heart) Beijing" shirt similar to the popular "I heart NY" shirts. I considered buying one for my college age son, but the level of appropriateness concerned me. My son had asked me to get him a Cuban cigar at duty free as a souvenir, and after seeing the "I love BJ" (Beijing) shirt, I considered it...as long as I could find a "My name is Bill Clinton" name tag too.
There is some concern over me getting my photos developed. The concern is a potential headline "Pittsburgh mother of four arrested for child pornography." I just couldn't help myself. The kids in China don't wear diapers. They wear pants with no crotch seam. They look like chaps. I saw some babies in outfits that look like long bibs. They go around their neck and a band around each thigh, but the back is completely open. I learned two things about this diaperless thing. One, boys in China are not circumcised and two, baby butts are cute no matter what country you are in.
Oh yeah, my brother asked me to never thank him for the 5 inches he arranged for me. (But I was taught to thank people for nice gifts) So, thanks M for the five inches you arranged. Five inches has never before been quite as satisfying and appreciated. I wouldn't hesitate to upgrade to Economy Plus the next time I fly.
My older younger brother (M) and his wife (T) invited me to visit them for a week in Beijing China. They are in China for my brother's work and go to Beijing every six weeks or so for a retreat from their normal very Chinese life. Although clearly Beijing is still in China, we did see a fair number of non Chinese people and ate a fair amount of American food. Although, because Beijing is still clearly in China, I saw many things that are very Chinese. It was a trip of a lifetime, a huge adventure and I loved every second of it.
While looking for souvenirs for my kids, I came across a "I (heart) Beijing" shirt similar to the popular "I heart NY" shirts. I considered buying one for my college age son, but the level of appropriateness concerned me. My son had asked me to get him a Cuban cigar at duty free as a souvenir, and after seeing the "I love BJ" (Beijing) shirt, I considered it...as long as I could find a "My name is Bill Clinton" name tag too.
There is some concern over me getting my photos developed. The concern is a potential headline "Pittsburgh mother of four arrested for child pornography." I just couldn't help myself. The kids in China don't wear diapers. They wear pants with no crotch seam. They look like chaps. I saw some babies in outfits that look like long bibs. They go around their neck and a band around each thigh, but the back is completely open. I learned two things about this diaperless thing. One, boys in China are not circumcised and two, baby butts are cute no matter what country you are in.
Oh yeah, my brother asked me to never thank him for the 5 inches he arranged for me. (But I was taught to thank people for nice gifts) So, thanks M for the five inches you arranged. Five inches has never before been quite as satisfying and appreciated. I wouldn't hesitate to upgrade to Economy Plus the next time I fly.
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Triggers
The things that trigger memories are so interesting. Some are obvious, so not so much. Sometimes, once one memory is triggered, an avalanche of memories comes tumbling through your brain.
I was packing up my basement for an eventual move. I came across an orange box with Miss Piggy stickers all over it. The box is from a trip I took with Girl Scouts between 8th grade and Freshman year of high school. We were gone for two weeks. We were only allowed to pack one beer crate sized box. I found a beer crate box, and painted it orange and adorned it with Miss Piggy stickers. Here it is MANY years later (I currently have a daughter the same age I was when I took the trip)and I have saved the box. I cannot imagine packing for two weeks into a box this size. I wonder how many tantrums I threw trying to prepare for the trip.
Finding the box started an avalanche of memories. Riding in one of the leader's Jeep's from Michigan to Wyoming. One of my fellow scout's parents were chaperones, they had rented a camper that we took turns riding in. We stopped at the other leader's cousins farms and saw a bull named Patrick. We went to a rodeo and had to wear our vests IN PUBLIC. We went to Laura Ingalls Wilders home or something, saw Devil's Tower, Wall Drug, Mount Rushmore. The silly orange Miss Piggy box just created this flood of memories. It was such a wonderful trip. Days after coming across it, I had another memory flash this morning. I was putting lotion on and remembered another fellow scout shaving her legs in the dust and dryness of Wyoming with lotion and a razor. It was so gross because there was dust everywhere. But, we were only allowed a few three minute showers the week were we in Wyoming. It really was the only option available if you wanted hairless legs.
The magic of technology has put me in touch with my two Girl Scout leaders who in their youth took a bunch of teenage girls on a two week journey that spanned several states. One of my leaders uses a photo from that trip as her facebook profile photo. The other leader has photos from that trip in her facebook photo albums. I have reconnected with several other fellow scouts on facebook. I wonder if they think about that trip as frequently as I do. I wonder what triggers their memories of it.
My beloved mini van turned 100,000 miles this week. The memories of buying the van rush into my mind. Hitting 100,000 miles coincided with the van's 9th birthday. We bought the van because our old van didn't have enough chutzpah to make the journey from our at the time home in Colorado to my brother's wedding in New York. The van was my first new car purchase. I picked it out, test drove it and fell in love. I still love that car, although my driving allegiances are starting to sway to another car in our garage. When the can hit 100,000 miles, I gave the dashboard a rubdown and thanked the van for safely getting us where we need to be, so many times. We celebrated the 100,000 mile mark by going back to New York, to see Niagara Falls (again) and celebrate my brother's anniversary and my nieces 7th birthday.
Seeing Niagara Falls triggered a bunch of memories too. I have been there before with my kids. I have been there with Girl Scouts. I have been there with my parents. But the memory that was at the front of my mind was a quick stop there with marching band in high school. I can't even remember WHY we stopped there, but I have this snapshot of a memory in my head of being there with the band.
The troubling thing about memories is they seem slightly out of control. You don't seem to be able to adjust what goes into your memory, what stays, or the length of time something might choose to stay in your memory. You also don't seem to be able to recall memories at will, or control what will trigger an avalanche of memories pouring into your current day. I guess all we DO have control of is the material available to create memories for yourself, and for those around you. Of course, that is a bit scary! I know my kids have less than pleasant memories of me and some of my behaviors. But hopefully they are well balanced with good memories of all the wisdom I present them with and all the fun, cool things we have done together. What? I can dream that my kids memories will only possess GOOD memories of me, can't I? Well, maybe I will just be careful not to trigger the bad memories of me. :)
I was packing up my basement for an eventual move. I came across an orange box with Miss Piggy stickers all over it. The box is from a trip I took with Girl Scouts between 8th grade and Freshman year of high school. We were gone for two weeks. We were only allowed to pack one beer crate sized box. I found a beer crate box, and painted it orange and adorned it with Miss Piggy stickers. Here it is MANY years later (I currently have a daughter the same age I was when I took the trip)and I have saved the box. I cannot imagine packing for two weeks into a box this size. I wonder how many tantrums I threw trying to prepare for the trip.
Finding the box started an avalanche of memories. Riding in one of the leader's Jeep's from Michigan to Wyoming. One of my fellow scout's parents were chaperones, they had rented a camper that we took turns riding in. We stopped at the other leader's cousins farms and saw a bull named Patrick. We went to a rodeo and had to wear our vests IN PUBLIC. We went to Laura Ingalls Wilders home or something, saw Devil's Tower, Wall Drug, Mount Rushmore. The silly orange Miss Piggy box just created this flood of memories. It was such a wonderful trip. Days after coming across it, I had another memory flash this morning. I was putting lotion on and remembered another fellow scout shaving her legs in the dust and dryness of Wyoming with lotion and a razor. It was so gross because there was dust everywhere. But, we were only allowed a few three minute showers the week were we in Wyoming. It really was the only option available if you wanted hairless legs.
The magic of technology has put me in touch with my two Girl Scout leaders who in their youth took a bunch of teenage girls on a two week journey that spanned several states. One of my leaders uses a photo from that trip as her facebook profile photo. The other leader has photos from that trip in her facebook photo albums. I have reconnected with several other fellow scouts on facebook. I wonder if they think about that trip as frequently as I do. I wonder what triggers their memories of it.
My beloved mini van turned 100,000 miles this week. The memories of buying the van rush into my mind. Hitting 100,000 miles coincided with the van's 9th birthday. We bought the van because our old van didn't have enough chutzpah to make the journey from our at the time home in Colorado to my brother's wedding in New York. The van was my first new car purchase. I picked it out, test drove it and fell in love. I still love that car, although my driving allegiances are starting to sway to another car in our garage. When the can hit 100,000 miles, I gave the dashboard a rubdown and thanked the van for safely getting us where we need to be, so many times. We celebrated the 100,000 mile mark by going back to New York, to see Niagara Falls (again) and celebrate my brother's anniversary and my nieces 7th birthday.
Seeing Niagara Falls triggered a bunch of memories too. I have been there before with my kids. I have been there with Girl Scouts. I have been there with my parents. But the memory that was at the front of my mind was a quick stop there with marching band in high school. I can't even remember WHY we stopped there, but I have this snapshot of a memory in my head of being there with the band.
The troubling thing about memories is they seem slightly out of control. You don't seem to be able to adjust what goes into your memory, what stays, or the length of time something might choose to stay in your memory. You also don't seem to be able to recall memories at will, or control what will trigger an avalanche of memories pouring into your current day. I guess all we DO have control of is the material available to create memories for yourself, and for those around you. Of course, that is a bit scary! I know my kids have less than pleasant memories of me and some of my behaviors. But hopefully they are well balanced with good memories of all the wisdom I present them with and all the fun, cool things we have done together. What? I can dream that my kids memories will only possess GOOD memories of me, can't I? Well, maybe I will just be careful not to trigger the bad memories of me. :)
Thursday, May 19, 2011
Going Dogless...part 2
Some things aren't meant to last forever. We have been dogless for 90 days. In that amount of time I have cried. I have been down. I have called the dogs to go out for their "last call" of the evening only to wind up laughing at myself because there aren't dogs in the house. My husband has patted his chair, his way of calling the dog up into his chair. Of course, his lap remains empty.
We have read craiglist, ebay classified, our local paper. We have been to pet stores. We comment on every dog we see. We walk around the neighborhood saying "They have a dog." in a completely dejected voice. We have thought of the next dog. We have considered breed, gender, size, names and when to adopt. Since our house is on the market in preparation to move 1,500 miles, we have decided it best to wait to adopt a new dog until we move.
But, it's been 90 lonely days. Oh, and child #1 came home from college. That re-energized the feeling of missing having a dog.
On Sunday, my husband flipped the t.v. to some channel that was hosted by the local humane society. They were showing all the pets up for adoption. My 5 year had tears streaming down his adorable little cheeks. I'm pretty sure my 19 year old was drooling. Next thing I know, we are in the car (after a phone call) to drive an hour and a half to pick up some mix breed, female dog that will grow to be bigger than the plan. Let's not even mention that WE HAVE NOT MOVED YET!
To recap; the plan was to wait until we moved. My plan also included getting a dog that as an adult would weigh under 30 pounds. It would be a male dog named "Barney".
What did we get? A female dog that was listed as a Saint Bernard/Shepherd mix. I am a pushover. A sucker. (You know, one is born every minute.)
Before I panicked too much over how HUGE and HAIRY this dog was going to be, we saw both parents. I am not sure how they came up with Saint Bernard and Shepherd. What I saw in front of me was two medium sized, mixed breed dogs. I also saw three delighted children. (child #3 is NOT into animals, she was just along for the ride).
Our new puppy is some random mixed breed. I wanted to name her "Heinz" (as in 57 varieties)as a reminder of her roots...both breed wise and that we live in Pittsburgh and Heinz is a Pittsburgh brand.
Trying to name a puppy is always a bit of a challenge. When you consider the fact that this was a spur of the moment (STUPID) decision, and that we had 6 people in the car trying to agree, the name choice took 36 hours. Finally I picked what name child #4 and I liked best. After all, we are the people who will ultimately spend the most time with her. We named her 'Flynn', one of the main characters in the Disney movie "Tangled". OK, Flynn is a boy in that movie and the dog is a girl. I googled Flynn though and found out that Flynn is in the top 100 names for girls in Britain. Plus, it's a dog and Flynn is better than being named "Booger" or "Reptar" which is what the boys wanted to name her.
We are only on day four of having a dog again. So far, I can't remember why I wanted another dog. I have slept on the kitchen floor next to the kennel to stop her from screaming. I have soaked up her accidents with paper towel. I have yelled at her to stop chasing the cats and to stop jumping on child #4 (who has been yelled at to stop running because that entices the dog to chase)and to stop chewing on my furniture. Must be the look in her eye and the wag of her tail that makes me think there will be a day 5 of having a dog again.
In the meantime, I am thinking of changing my name to "Sucker" officially.
We have read craiglist, ebay classified, our local paper. We have been to pet stores. We comment on every dog we see. We walk around the neighborhood saying "They have a dog." in a completely dejected voice. We have thought of the next dog. We have considered breed, gender, size, names and when to adopt. Since our house is on the market in preparation to move 1,500 miles, we have decided it best to wait to adopt a new dog until we move.
But, it's been 90 lonely days. Oh, and child #1 came home from college. That re-energized the feeling of missing having a dog.
On Sunday, my husband flipped the t.v. to some channel that was hosted by the local humane society. They were showing all the pets up for adoption. My 5 year had tears streaming down his adorable little cheeks. I'm pretty sure my 19 year old was drooling. Next thing I know, we are in the car (after a phone call) to drive an hour and a half to pick up some mix breed, female dog that will grow to be bigger than the plan. Let's not even mention that WE HAVE NOT MOVED YET!
To recap; the plan was to wait until we moved. My plan also included getting a dog that as an adult would weigh under 30 pounds. It would be a male dog named "Barney".
What did we get? A female dog that was listed as a Saint Bernard/Shepherd mix. I am a pushover. A sucker. (You know, one is born every minute.)
Before I panicked too much over how HUGE and HAIRY this dog was going to be, we saw both parents. I am not sure how they came up with Saint Bernard and Shepherd. What I saw in front of me was two medium sized, mixed breed dogs. I also saw three delighted children. (child #3 is NOT into animals, she was just along for the ride).
Our new puppy is some random mixed breed. I wanted to name her "Heinz" (as in 57 varieties)as a reminder of her roots...both breed wise and that we live in Pittsburgh and Heinz is a Pittsburgh brand.
Trying to name a puppy is always a bit of a challenge. When you consider the fact that this was a spur of the moment (STUPID) decision, and that we had 6 people in the car trying to agree, the name choice took 36 hours. Finally I picked what name child #4 and I liked best. After all, we are the people who will ultimately spend the most time with her. We named her 'Flynn', one of the main characters in the Disney movie "Tangled". OK, Flynn is a boy in that movie and the dog is a girl. I googled Flynn though and found out that Flynn is in the top 100 names for girls in Britain. Plus, it's a dog and Flynn is better than being named "Booger" or "Reptar" which is what the boys wanted to name her.
We are only on day four of having a dog again. So far, I can't remember why I wanted another dog. I have slept on the kitchen floor next to the kennel to stop her from screaming. I have soaked up her accidents with paper towel. I have yelled at her to stop chasing the cats and to stop jumping on child #4 (who has been yelled at to stop running because that entices the dog to chase)and to stop chewing on my furniture. Must be the look in her eye and the wag of her tail that makes me think there will be a day 5 of having a dog again.
In the meantime, I am thinking of changing my name to "Sucker" officially.
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Going Dogless
Six weeks ago we had to put down our dog, George, who was ten. He had lost control of his bladder. I would have dealt with it a bit longer, but our house is on the market. My husband is getting transferred back to Colorado. We have lived in Pennsylvania for five years. Actually, today is the fifth anniversary of closing on this house. Anyway, a dog peeing all over makes it a bit challenging to make the house looks appealing enough to buy. So, George had to leave a bit sooner than I would have planned.
To further complicate things, our other dog, three year old Cinder, started having accidents. I thought she had a urinary tract infection. I took her to the vet. They immediately said she needed to lose 30 pounds. 30 pounds! After the shock of that statement, I explained what was going on with her. They got some samples and sent us home. They called with results, 30 minutes after we had put George down. I need to back up a bit. My husband doesn't like Cinder. He didn't want to take her with us when we moved. We had a big fight, I fought hard to keep Cinder. Anyway, the vet called with the results...diabetes.
I cried hard. Money is tight in our home, so my first question was "What is it going to cost?" With the syringes, insulin, blood tests, testing strips, etc., it is about $100 a month. Cinder is only three, I can't even think about putting her down, she has to be treated. The vet continued about her needed care...eating twice a day, same time every day, balanced daily exercise, no stress...without these things, Cinder's glucose levels would mess up and she could get sicker. I knew this wasn't going to work which only made me cry harder. I don't feed my humans the same time every day, how could I ensure the dog would? Depending on the weather, exercise levels change, throw in kid activities and who knows if any real exercise will take place. And no stress?!?...our house is on the market, we are moving 24 hours away. Just the thought causes me GREAT amounts of stress...certainly it would cause a dog stress. Also, she won't be able to be left in a kennel if we vacation. She will have to go to a dog hospital, or have someone keep her that can monitor her and give her injections. We don't travel much, but even to get my son to and from college is a four day excursion. The tears kept on coming. For a week the vet and I talked trying to come up with some solutions.
The vet called one morning and said they had just received a call from a former patient. She had put her lab down three years ago and was now looking for a special needs lab. Cinder was the answer to her prayers. This wonderful woman was the answer to mine. I met her, she is wonderful. In the weeks since she has adopted Cinder, she emails me updates and even sent Cinder's name/phone tag to us. I miss Cinder with every cell in my body, but I know I have made the right decision for Cinder. The day I surrendered her, I was crying hysterically. Cinder kept jumping up with her paws on my chest. She had NEVER done that before. She knew how distressed I was. In all my life, through all the dogs in my life, I have never had a dog respond that way to my emotions.
It's been six weeks with no dog. I think that's a record. I came home from the hospital as a newborn to two St. Bernard's. Santa brought me a puppy when I was about four. I don't remember these dogs, but I have seen pictures. I remember a lab mix named Shady. She had puppies, most of them black, but one was yellow. My brother and I named them all, the yellow one was "King". When people came to adopt the puppies, we would hide King. We wanted to keep him. As it turned out, we couldn't even keep Shady. After her puppies were gone, she started carrying my baby brother around.
Then we got Kemo. He was born on my Dad's birthday. He was a cockapoo. He was a good dog, a smart dog. Once we went camping and went on a hike. There was nobody around, so we took him off his leash. After a bit, he caught scent of a deer (we suspect) and took off. We called him and looked for him but ended up going back to our campsite very sad. In the middle of the night, the people camping next to us knocked on our camper door. Seems Kemo made it all the way back to the campground...was only off by one campsite. It was pretty amazing. Kemo died when I was about 20. I don't know how old he was, I guess around 14. I was working for an insurance company and for whatever reason came home for lunch that day. (that was VERY rare for me to come home for lunch) My mom was sitting there crying. Sad day.
When my brother was a sophomore in college, maybe a junior, he got a dog, Grover. My brother later went into the Navy. My parents inherited Grover. By this time I was married. Near our first anniversary, we bought a house and found Molson, a black lab/great dane mix. Molson was HUGE. He was a great dog, very protective of our kids. He weighed 125 lbs. He got cancer at age ten. When he started growling at us, we knew he was ready to leave and we put him down. Child #1 was in 2nd grade. Child #2 cried so much and wouldn't tell Molson goodbye. She has never again bonded to another pet. She is now 17. We had three other dogs in our home between Molson and George, we just couldn't find the right personality. For awhile I think I was teaching the kids that pets are just visitors, not members of the family. But, finally George fit just right. Then seven years later, Cinder fit too.
In the six dogless weeks, we have mentioned George and Cinder countless times. We have thought about our next dog. Child #2 (who really doesn't like pets) has fallen in love with her friends long haired dachshund, Child #4 really wants a chihuahua like one of our family friends. Child #2 just wants a dog. I like yellow labs. I kept George's kennel, he was a terrier mix, about 20 lbs. I have said the next dog has to be able to fit into George's old kennel, s no yellow lab. We went to a pet store (BIG MISTAKE!)and found a schnoodle (schnauzer and poodle mix) and my heart melted. I even went back a second time to see him. The kids want to name him "Bieber". I have goggled schnoodles. I am smitten.
Six dogless weeks and I am searching for a replacement. I like having a dog. The are always happy to see me. They eat whatever I make them. They don't talk back. They seem generally sorry when you tell them "NO". I like having a dog. I am trying to hold off on getting a puppy until we make the big move. We will see. Going dogless is tough! Unless you are a vacuum cleaner.
To further complicate things, our other dog, three year old Cinder, started having accidents. I thought she had a urinary tract infection. I took her to the vet. They immediately said she needed to lose 30 pounds. 30 pounds! After the shock of that statement, I explained what was going on with her. They got some samples and sent us home. They called with results, 30 minutes after we had put George down. I need to back up a bit. My husband doesn't like Cinder. He didn't want to take her with us when we moved. We had a big fight, I fought hard to keep Cinder. Anyway, the vet called with the results...diabetes.
I cried hard. Money is tight in our home, so my first question was "What is it going to cost?" With the syringes, insulin, blood tests, testing strips, etc., it is about $100 a month. Cinder is only three, I can't even think about putting her down, she has to be treated. The vet continued about her needed care...eating twice a day, same time every day, balanced daily exercise, no stress...without these things, Cinder's glucose levels would mess up and she could get sicker. I knew this wasn't going to work which only made me cry harder. I don't feed my humans the same time every day, how could I ensure the dog would? Depending on the weather, exercise levels change, throw in kid activities and who knows if any real exercise will take place. And no stress?!?...our house is on the market, we are moving 24 hours away. Just the thought causes me GREAT amounts of stress...certainly it would cause a dog stress. Also, she won't be able to be left in a kennel if we vacation. She will have to go to a dog hospital, or have someone keep her that can monitor her and give her injections. We don't travel much, but even to get my son to and from college is a four day excursion. The tears kept on coming. For a week the vet and I talked trying to come up with some solutions.
The vet called one morning and said they had just received a call from a former patient. She had put her lab down three years ago and was now looking for a special needs lab. Cinder was the answer to her prayers. This wonderful woman was the answer to mine. I met her, she is wonderful. In the weeks since she has adopted Cinder, she emails me updates and even sent Cinder's name/phone tag to us. I miss Cinder with every cell in my body, but I know I have made the right decision for Cinder. The day I surrendered her, I was crying hysterically. Cinder kept jumping up with her paws on my chest. She had NEVER done that before. She knew how distressed I was. In all my life, through all the dogs in my life, I have never had a dog respond that way to my emotions.
It's been six weeks with no dog. I think that's a record. I came home from the hospital as a newborn to two St. Bernard's. Santa brought me a puppy when I was about four. I don't remember these dogs, but I have seen pictures. I remember a lab mix named Shady. She had puppies, most of them black, but one was yellow. My brother and I named them all, the yellow one was "King". When people came to adopt the puppies, we would hide King. We wanted to keep him. As it turned out, we couldn't even keep Shady. After her puppies were gone, she started carrying my baby brother around.
Then we got Kemo. He was born on my Dad's birthday. He was a cockapoo. He was a good dog, a smart dog. Once we went camping and went on a hike. There was nobody around, so we took him off his leash. After a bit, he caught scent of a deer (we suspect) and took off. We called him and looked for him but ended up going back to our campsite very sad. In the middle of the night, the people camping next to us knocked on our camper door. Seems Kemo made it all the way back to the campground...was only off by one campsite. It was pretty amazing. Kemo died when I was about 20. I don't know how old he was, I guess around 14. I was working for an insurance company and for whatever reason came home for lunch that day. (that was VERY rare for me to come home for lunch) My mom was sitting there crying. Sad day.
When my brother was a sophomore in college, maybe a junior, he got a dog, Grover. My brother later went into the Navy. My parents inherited Grover. By this time I was married. Near our first anniversary, we bought a house and found Molson, a black lab/great dane mix. Molson was HUGE. He was a great dog, very protective of our kids. He weighed 125 lbs. He got cancer at age ten. When he started growling at us, we knew he was ready to leave and we put him down. Child #1 was in 2nd grade. Child #2 cried so much and wouldn't tell Molson goodbye. She has never again bonded to another pet. She is now 17. We had three other dogs in our home between Molson and George, we just couldn't find the right personality. For awhile I think I was teaching the kids that pets are just visitors, not members of the family. But, finally George fit just right. Then seven years later, Cinder fit too.
In the six dogless weeks, we have mentioned George and Cinder countless times. We have thought about our next dog. Child #2 (who really doesn't like pets) has fallen in love with her friends long haired dachshund, Child #4 really wants a chihuahua like one of our family friends. Child #2 just wants a dog. I like yellow labs. I kept George's kennel, he was a terrier mix, about 20 lbs. I have said the next dog has to be able to fit into George's old kennel, s no yellow lab. We went to a pet store (BIG MISTAKE!)and found a schnoodle (schnauzer and poodle mix) and my heart melted. I even went back a second time to see him. The kids want to name him "Bieber". I have goggled schnoodles. I am smitten.
Six dogless weeks and I am searching for a replacement. I like having a dog. The are always happy to see me. They eat whatever I make them. They don't talk back. They seem generally sorry when you tell them "NO". I like having a dog. I am trying to hold off on getting a puppy until we make the big move. We will see. Going dogless is tough! Unless you are a vacuum cleaner.
Friday, February 11, 2011
Dog Days
I had to have my dog of ten years put down today. His body was quitting on him. His quality of life was rapidly falling. Here is what I wanted to tell him, and what he hopefully already knew.
Dear George,
You were my baby before the last baby arrived. You have been all our companions. You have never met a person who didn't comment on your cuteness and you never met a lap you didn't try to sit on. You were always so concerned when the baby cried and you would pace near him until I helped him. You are a good dog.
Thank you for putting up with child #3 who tried to dress you and insisted for years that your name was George Bush Washington. Thank you for enduring child #2 who pretended to not like you, she too will notice your absence. Thank you for providing child #1 company when people were too much, or maybe not enough. Thank you for teaching child #4 so much about the role pets play in our lives. Thank you for your patience as he learned to not climb on dogs or pull their fur or ears. Thank you for keeping dad and my laps warm when we sat in our favorite chair, which turned out to be your favorite chair too. Thank you for being smart and for protecting me from all those scary trick or treaters. I wouldn't have gotten through the babies months of dropping food from the highchair without you.
Upon arriving in Doggie Heaven, be nice to Mauka and Makai, your dog cousins. Sniff a 'hello' to Kemo and Grover, your dog uncles. Play with Molson your dog brother. Share some space with Missy, your dog grandma. We miss all of them, and like you, were our loving companions. Enjoy all my friends dogs who will be there waiting with treats and comfy beds to share.
I am sorry your body wore out before your welcome. You will be missed.
Thanks George for everything.
Dear George,
You were my baby before the last baby arrived. You have been all our companions. You have never met a person who didn't comment on your cuteness and you never met a lap you didn't try to sit on. You were always so concerned when the baby cried and you would pace near him until I helped him. You are a good dog.
Thank you for putting up with child #3 who tried to dress you and insisted for years that your name was George Bush Washington. Thank you for enduring child #2 who pretended to not like you, she too will notice your absence. Thank you for providing child #1 company when people were too much, or maybe not enough. Thank you for teaching child #4 so much about the role pets play in our lives. Thank you for your patience as he learned to not climb on dogs or pull their fur or ears. Thank you for keeping dad and my laps warm when we sat in our favorite chair, which turned out to be your favorite chair too. Thank you for being smart and for protecting me from all those scary trick or treaters. I wouldn't have gotten through the babies months of dropping food from the highchair without you.
Upon arriving in Doggie Heaven, be nice to Mauka and Makai, your dog cousins. Sniff a 'hello' to Kemo and Grover, your dog uncles. Play with Molson your dog brother. Share some space with Missy, your dog grandma. We miss all of them, and like you, were our loving companions. Enjoy all my friends dogs who will be there waiting with treats and comfy beds to share.
I am sorry your body wore out before your welcome. You will be missed.
Thanks George for everything.
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