Saturday, July 31, 2010

What's in a name?

I've been thinking about my recently passed dog, Ripley.  I've done little else since she was hit by a car last Tuesday.  For whatever reason, I started thinking about all her nicknames.  She was a GREAT dog, and she came to just about anything we called her.  Here's my list:

Rips
Rippy
Ripples
Ripper
Ripper-Roo
Pup
Pups
Pupperoni
Puppermill
Poop
Poops
Stink
Stinker
Stinky
Luv
Lovey

My Mom's nicknames for her....

Dummy
Stupid
The Dog
(Obviously she is not a pet person)

If my grandma was still alive, she'd call her...

Pooch

A memorial page will be coming soon......

Saturday, July 3, 2010

Dysfunctional Coping Methods

My heart is shattered into a thousand pieces.  11 years bites the dust.  Yes, this destination seems to have been on the map for the last 3 years.  I was really hoping, praying, longing, for a last minute fork the in the road.  I was okay, or at least prepared, for that.  We could always turn back, right?

I wasn't expecting the gaping pot-hole (Grand Canyon?) that makes turning back NOT an option.

In case you were wondering, I'm not talking about the Griswold family vacation.

In my blubbering mess, I've succumbed to Dysfunctional Coping Methods.

1.  Hyperventilating until I puked.  3 times.
2.  Had to go home from the job I've only been at for 2 months because I couldn't keep my shit together for longer than 5 minutes.
3.  Bought my first pack of cigarettes since.......  2003?  When my step-father passed away. Holy SHIT- these suckers are expensive.  I'll have to find a substitute.
4.  Ate 3 sourdough english muffins with more butter and jelly than actual muffin.
5.  Then I ate a bowl of Cocoa Puffs.  By bowl, I mean filling to the top so that the cereal actually spills out the top, eating those pieces that fell out, and then drowning it all in milk until I could barely carry the damn bowl to the couch.
6.  Which leads me to forfeiting any foods that I cannot eat while laying under a blankie on the couch.
7.  Then I wanted to puke again.  Cocoa Puffs are really gross in mass quantities.
8.  Deleting the entire DVR menu.
9.  Vacillating between rage and grief about 12,459,1033 times each day.
10.  Blogging about it when I should just keep it to myself.

In addition to these dysfunctional methods, I have engaged in some proper ones.  So I guess I'm not a total loss yet.
I've had an outpouring of support from family, coworkers, and friends who have been checking on me, keeping me busy, and offering lots of help and love.
They remind me to keep eating, keep sleeping, and keep breathing.  They remind me to take it hour by hour, day by day.

Plus, each time I look into the cherub faces of my boys, I am reminded that these two will never, EVER, let me down.

Thursday, July 1, 2010

Playtime

Two times year, my brother T comes home from Los Angeles.  Summerfest and Christmas.  It always feels like forever in between.  But as little as we see him, the boys always remember their Uncle T.  Today C got a few hours of Uncle T all to himself while M was in therapy.  They constructed a helluva gear tower and  domino stairs.  Warms my heart to see them doing 'boy' things.  I'm sure it's as special to Uncle T as it is to my boys.  It's a side of T I rarely see.  An eternal bachelor, artist, writer, and audio engineer,  I hardly imagine my bro being the 'Dad' type.  But he always suprises me- by now I should know.  T, you have no idea how special you are, to me, and to your nephews!

The handle rotates the gears into an animated structure.  Coolest. Toy. Ever.  Especially for M (not pictured) whose Autism compels him to spin things.