Tag:

letting go

back to school, first day of school, parenting, girls, letting go

Back to school was not Xanax inducing here. Not this year anyways. Today was the first day of school for my girls. It feels much too early in the summer. It’s the first summer that I wasn’t either ecstatic or sobbing to be left alone. This morning was a peaceful, easy morning.

The girls are at the age where they can do things on their own. They were up and ready before me. They were excited. I was thrilled. Morning drop off went off without a hitch. Completely different from last year’s back to school mental breakdowns.

I walked them in, dropped off supplies and introduced myself to their teachers and left with a kiss goodbye and a hug of appreciation instead of desperation. It was bitter sweet.On one hand, my oldest “baby” is in 6th grade. That’s middle school? How did this happen? I swear I just dropped her off in the kindergarten hallway of death.

I returned home with hot coffee in hand and sat in peaceful quietness in a clean house. Then it happened. I missed my children. As much as we’ve been inseparable this summer, I didn’t think it was even possible.

Back to school is getting easier for them and harder for me.

I missed my tween sleepily walking into the room midmorning only to collapse by my side and snuggle into me as she did all summer. I missed my little one sauntering in with her bedhead and sidling up on the other side of me, kissing me good morning and laying with her feet under my hip as she read a book or watched a show on her iPod. I missed it all. I even missed the tiny voices constantly asking to go to the pool. I just need a few more days; a few more years. 18 years can’t hold all of this love.

Mostly, I missed the fact that those moments are gone for another summer and every summer is one summer closer to no more summers under the same roof. That rips my heart out. I don’t know how to not hate that. I want to consume and digest every moment in tiny bits so that it doesn’t overwhelm me but motherhood is all consuming and, for me, completely overwhelming in the best possible ways.

back to school, first day of school, parenting, girls, letting go

At pick up the car was filled with excited voices telling me how excited they were about the upcoming school year. They were thrilled to connect with old friends and excitedly told me of new ones. Both proclaiming that this is going to be the best school year ever. Both thrilled with their assigned teachers. These moments make my heart happy but I feel the pull away like the slow separation of a Band-Aid from a forgotten wound. It aches beneath the surface like a fresh bruise to my heart.

Our schedule is hectic and crazy and heads into full force next Monday so I plan to wring every single ounce of freedom and togetherness out of our last weekend before the obligatory chaos takes over. I have to believe every second counts and every day is a chance for a new beginning. That has to get me through the letting go.

As we head into this new year of school, I am full of pride. My babies are becoming such phenomenal young ladies. This only makes me want to cleave to them tighter but I loosen my grip because they are not mine at all. They are their own. I am just the blessed woman who got to bring them into the world and gets to spend a little time showing them the way to live in this crazy world. I just hope that I’m doing it right.

How do you deal with the quiet moments of letting go that come with back to school?

0 comment
0 FacebookTwitterPinterestLinkedinStumbleuponEmail
first communion, kids growing up, communion, letting go,lasts

My 7-year-old just celebrated her First Holy Communion. She chose to wear her sister’s communion dress and sweater. She looked beautiful almost angelic. There was something special about seeing her in her sister’s dress. Dressing her was a little foreshadowing of what her wedding day might be like and, of course, that coupled with the momentous occasion had me feeling a little emotional.

You know when they were newborns and I baptized them, I bought them each separate baptismal gowns. It felt like it had to be done, in case they had little girls someday that they wanted to pass their dresses on. I wanted them to have that but when we went to the bridal store and my 7-year-old picked out the exact same dress that I had bought for her sister 2 years ago it made no sense to buy the same dress twice. They both loved the idea.

communion, firsts, parenting, growing up, milestones

You see they are best friends. The older one thrives on mothering her little sister and the little one loves to feel connected to and emulate her sister in every way. Sometimes I worry that this relationship is too close, too co-dependent but then I realize that when we are gone, they will only have one another and I want them to be more than sisters, I want them to be friends and more than that, I want them to realize that the love that they share is unconditional and the bond unbreakable.

first communion, kids growing up, communion, letting go,lasts

Every time the girls have a milestone, I become a little nostalgic and a lot verklempt. You see, I only have two children. So every milestone is a first and the last, the alpha and omega of my parenting, if you will. This month just about breaks me every year because it is milestone on top of milestone constantly, not unlike my labors with those two girls. Parenting has become a whirlwind and I just want to hit the pause button, study their tiny faces, commit those tiny voices to memory and hug them for longer periods of time before they break free to find the next adventure with their friends.

Gabi’s communion fell on May 2nd, the day immediately after May 1st (my one day of the year of feeling sorry for myself). I was supposed to spend Friday alone feeling all the feels but instead I was running all over town preparing for a party. It felt surreal but it also didn’t feel right to spend the day mourning the dead when I had such a big celebration for the living to plan. It felt unfair but I pushed it down and carried on.

first communion, kids growing up, communion, letting go,lasts

I know I lingered a little longer holding her in my arms that Saturday, wanting to cherish every moment of this last first communion and being painfully aware that it was the last. She was full of giggles and smiles and I met each and every one with my own. I was so proud of her. We took all the photos to commemorate the day and we headed home to celebrate her first communion and the Big Guy’s 40th birthday.

first communion, kids growing up, communion, letting go,lasts

Yep, God’s great plan included me celebrating all weekend long. Maybe he was trying to get me out of my funk. My husband stayed home Friday too under the guise of helping me run errands for the party but really, I think part of him wanted to make sure that I didn’t sink too far down the rabbit hole of sadness. He handled me with such sensitivity and love, it was hard to feel sorry for myself when I am blessed with him I my life. I’m glad he did because my entire weekend was full of love, family and celebration like a rainbow after a storm. I needed that.

first communion, kids growing up, communion, letting go,lasts

At the end of the night, I hung that communion dress up and put it away for the last time. It will not be worn again by one of my children but maybe someday it will be worn by one of my granddaughters and that makes my heart happier than I thought was possible. Hope is what all of those tiny white dresses represent for me now; the baptismal gowns that I christened my daughters in, the beautiful communion gown they shared and my wedding dress pressed, cleaned and tidy in their boxes just waiting to make more memories.

What did you feel on your child’s first communion or other big “growing up” milestone?

1 comment
0 FacebookTwitterPinterestLinkedinStumbleuponEmail
Back-to-school, first day of school, kids growing up, letting go

Back-to-school school is upon us.

Yesterday morning, I took my girls back-to-school. I know that I should be rejoicing. I thought I might be. This summer has been very busy and trying but instead, I was sad. Sad that another summer is gone and there are so few left before they go off to college. When they are babies and toddlers, each day feels like 72 hours but these years now pass more quickly than I prefer.

The girls are growing up so fast. They are no longer the two little mop top toddlers who I chased with a brush while putting pigtails into their hair. They no longer mismatch their clothes or put shoes on wrong feet. No they are up before me every morning, dressed and waiting for me to curl or straighten their hair while they change earrings and strategically place rainbow loom bracelets up their arms. Suddenly, there are lockers and acceptable and unacceptable types of belts and socks.

They both got back-to-school haircuts and all I can think is where did my children go? I am so proud of the young ladies they are becoming but pump the brakes. I’m still the mom of single digit children, for one more year anyways. I can’t believe I’ve been a mom for almost a decade already. I really am trying to be “cool” and give them space to spread their budding wings but they are still my baby birds and when I see panic, pain or fear it’s my instinct to swoop in and make it all better.

The girls are now 9 and 7, so we don’t have to worry about the dreaded first day of preschool and kindergarten. Those days nearly broke my mommy heart in half. Again this morning, moms were dropping like flies in the kindergarten corridor; collapsing into pools of snot and tears just outside of the doorways. I kept a stiff upper lip and pushed their limp bodies aside as I took my girls to the more “dignified” end of the hallway to second grade. Not really, by second grade we’ve just learned to wear huge sunglasses and wait until we are safely back in the car before we have our breakdown.

Back-to-school, first day of school, kids growing up, letting go

My 4th grader, while she still wants me to walk her to class, under the guise of being her Clorox wipe and paper towel pack mule, gives me a hug and dismisses me in front of everyone. She has always been the stiff upper lip kid, since preschool. She’ll get watery eyes and a bit of a lip quiver and then she will give me that hug, you know the one that needs to last both of us the entire day, and then she will send me off. Even if she wants to run off after me crying for me to take her home, she will not make waves. She will make do. She gets that from me. It’s awesome, except for when I wish she’d just let go and not stiff upper lip it. I want her to know that she doesn’t always have to be the stoic one and that’s what I am here for; her safe place to land, to carry her when she is too weary to walk and to always, always hold her hand.

 

My 2nd grader however, well, she is a rage against the night, do not go gently, make waves, cry and freak out type. She knows how to make a mama feel needed but she is also my high maintenance, squeaky wheel. This morning, she tried a bit of stiff upper lip on for size. I don’t think it suited her because just before I walked her into her class, she said, “ Mama, my stomach hurts.” This is her go to ailment whenever she is afraid or nervous. While I was unloading her supplies (pack mule) I asked the teacher where to put the supplies. When he answered that the kids were supposed to read the board and follow the directions, I saw the panic and freak strike the heart of my youngest baby bird. She reads but she’s not a “great” reader yet and there were a lot of unrecognizable words on that board so I explained the instructions to her and helped her to put her little heart at ease. I could see that she wanted to cry but instead she unsurely said, “Okay, mommy.”

 

It was time to leave. I could feel her willing me to stay. I could feel my heart being tugged back in her direction. I hugged her and she reciprocated tightly. I assured her that she would be fine and that it was going to be an awesome first day; all while willing those damn watery eyes of my own to stay behind the sunglasses and not reveal themselves to my girl. She gave me a big kiss and whispered, “Mommy, I’m scared!” I looked her in the eye and told her that there was nothing to be afraid of and that I was only a phone call away and more importantly, that I loved her. That seemed to put her at ease and then I left, as she stared a hole into the back of my head; turning back to catch one last unsure smile.  Then I walked out of the room.

 

2 minutes later, I walked back to the doorway to see if she was okay. She was sharpening pencils when she caught a glimpse of me. She ran to me and gave me a kiss and told me she loved me. This time much more enthusiastically. I told her, “See, if you need me, I’m only a phone call away!” And she smiled and dismissed me.

 

I left my second grader in her new class and before I even left the school building, my heart was heavy with all the feelings; the missing, the growing up and the letting go. I freaking hate the letting go.

 

Apparently, back-to-school never gets easier but does the letting go?

5 comments
0 FacebookTwitterPinterestLinkedinStumbleuponEmail
paper lanterns, loss, miscarriage

loss, moving on, friends, life, letting goSitting there, immersed in the moment of a baseball game, the ordinary; the laughter of my girls, the deep, baritone voice of my father-in-law excitedly recounting the last play, my husband sitting quietly by my side and then I glanced upwards towards the sky. I don’t know why, I looked to the outfield and then it happened and everything changed.

 

There on the horizon, just beyond the energy of the ballpark, where people were cheering and happily enjoying a popular summer pastime, in the darkness beyond the cathedral; slowly and one by one, Chinese Paper lanterns lifted higher and higher into the July night sky. For a brief moment, my heart leapt into my throat. I was still and quiet. I did not move. Then I glanced at my husband and gestured in the direction of the soaring, fiery lanterns. He knew.

 

The sight of so many of those Chinese lanterns floating up to the heavens was glorious and magical, especially in such quantity. I am assuming they were being set free in celebration of some newly married couple’s wedding; their first act of creating their happily ever after. I couldn’t move or breathe. I was still.

 

Those airy, delicate Chinese Paper lanterns will always remind me of something bittersweet. That is why I found myself sitting there at the ballpark, surrounded by strangers and the smell of popcorn, unsuspectingly overcome with emotion.

 

Last year, when I miscarried our third child, it emotionally crippled me for most of the following twelve months. I mourned almost constantly. But one day last fall, after my heart had been completely shattered, I received a message on my phone from a friend I’d gotten to know online who had virtually held my hand and helped me through on of the hardest things I have this far had the misfortune of experiencing. I looked at my message and there was a photo of one single beautiful Chinese paper lantern, floating gracefully up into the sky as the sun set at that moment when day meets night. That one single Chinese paper lantern ascending into heaven meant the world to me. I get choked up just thinking about it.

 

You see, my friend, Jessica Watson, is an angel in my eyes. She made a gesture on my behalf and she helped me to heal. Though, I am not sure I could ever repay that act of kindness. I will always remember the evening, a mom who understood the weight of loss, did the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. She heard the unspoken words that I could not voice, she felt the pain that comes with losing someone before you truly get to know them, she saw the hole in my existence that this blow had left and without asking, she gave me the gift of gracefully letting go. She may never know what she did for me that evening but I will never forget her or her beautiful and kind heart.

 

And so as I sat there in the ballpark on Friday night, stunned and transported back to that overwhelming loss, I was reminded that our sweet baby is in heaven and that there are angels here among us. As I watched the paper lanterns ascend, my heart followed into the moonlit sky and then I smiled and heard the excited laughter of my daughters’ beside me, of life going on.

22 comments
0 FacebookTwitterPinterestLinkedinStumbleuponEmail
birthday, 6th birthday, Gabi

birthdayIt’s been a weeks since my baby girl turned 6. It’s been a crazy, crazy week that is the end to the craziest month in our household. We are all exhausted and run down and have the stomach bug to prove it.

Over the weekend, we had Gabi’s birthday party. She had about 15 friends come to her party and about 25 family members. She was surrounded by love. Finally, our new house felt like home.

birthday1

The Big Guy set up the bouncy house and the girls shared their new clubhouse with all of their little friends. My brothers and sisters sat around catching up as all of our children played together in my backyard. These moments are so few and far between these days. I cherish each one.

birthday , 6th birthday, gabi's birthday

Then I see Gabi; tall, thin and waif like looking more and more like a big kid than a little one striding across the backyard. Blushing because the little boy she has a “crush” on is at her party and her Godfather, my brother, asking him 20 questions. She still has all of her baby teeth and that giant baby teeth smile lets me know how very content she is.

gabi's birthday, birthday, 6th birthday

Long gone are the dark black curly ringlets she was born with, in their place is long straight blonde hair pulled back with flowers. Her big blue eyes taking it all in, just like they did on the day she was born. She was so alert. Each freckle on her face that kisses her nose and cheeks appear to me more beautiful than the last. She is graceful and quirky and funny and possesses the kind of innocence that you wish they’d never lose but you know all too soon, reality will find its way in.

I glance across my yard and hear the laughter that fills the air and I am happy. It reminds me of my own 34th birthday when I announced to my brothers and sisters that I was pregnant with Gabi. There was a lot of celebrating that night. My Gabi has brought joy to our hearts since the minute we knew she existed and that has never changed.

birthday3

The day was filled with family, friends, cake and gifts; everything a 6-year-old could wish for. For me, it was filled with love; the big, crazy kind that overwhelms you and leaves you breathless. The kind of love that makes your heart beat fast and wishing you could freeze the moment in time.

birthday4

To celebrate my Gabi’s birthday I want to give your child a beautiful and endearing, personalized bedtime story, Owl Always Love You *insert your child’s name here**.

birthday, Owl ALways Love you

Award-winning flattenme just hatched their latest personalized book – OWL Always Love You. There’s no better way to lull your little one to sleep than with a soothing story and a reminder of mom and dad’s love. Owl Always Love You is the perfect signoff for dreamland.

Unlike traditional bedtime tales, the Owl Always Love You personalized storybook makes your child the star of the story by repeating his name in the narrative. Your little one will be drawn in by the beautiful illustrations of fuzzy (and sometimes silly) owls settling down for a good night’s sleep, and he’ll love the ethereal images of soaring kites and starlit skies. Cuddly owls, fluffy lambs, and friendly cows dazzle the pages in this very special book. Complementing the visual delight is a sonorous and soothing rhyming verse, chalk full of reminders of mom and dad’s love.

Believe me, your child will love hearing her own name repeated throughout the book. We got a book for both girls and they both giggle and snuggle in deeper, every single time their name is read aloud in the story.

To enter to win a copy of Owl Always Love You, for your own child, all you have to do is leave a comment below telling me what your favorite bedtime story to read to your child is (include your email address that you use to subscribe so I can contact you if you win) and mandatory entry ***subscribe to The TRUTH about Motherhood! *** It is that simple. Contest open residents of the U.S. and Canada. Contest ends Monday, June 3, 2013 at 11:59 p.m. EST.

Disclaimer: I was provided copies of Owl Always Love You by flattenme for free to review but all opinions are my own and we adore this sweet little bedtime story and so will your child.

3 comments
0 FacebookTwitterPinterestLinkedinStumbleuponEmail
Change is Inevitable

change, first communion, dress, growing upAs you may have noticed, change is inevitable in life in general for all of us and, more specifically, on my site in the last few days. If this is your first time here, you probably only noticed that holy smokes this woman likes her pink, like her men, hot! But really what you don’t know is that yes, while I do like the Big Guy hot, like my pink, my site has gotten a complete overhaul this past weekend. Thanks to my tech guru/ web design genius, the Big Guy. Hey, you know what they say, it’s cheaper to keep him. No way could I afford what he would charge for the pain in the ass kind of person I am to design for, especially since he undertook this task on my shark week. He is so brave. This was by far my favorite Valentine’s Day gift thus far.

6 comments
0 FacebookTwitterPinterestLinkedinStumbleuponEmail
miscarriage, loss, goodbye,grief

miscarriage, loss, goodbye,griefYesterday was the day.

I thought for sure, it would be too much to bear. I just waited for the emotional time bomb to end all time bombs to come and take me out.

I waited for it to come. I expected it. Thanksgiving, I hosted dinner & I was indeed an open wound. A simple statement of “don’t you miss a baby in the house” sent me into silent hysterics.

11 comments
0 FacebookTwitterPinterestLinkedinStumbleuponEmail
unexpected, family, life, change

letting go, growing up, who am I

Letting go, who am I without them?

Letting go. Who am I now? Have you ever asked yourself this question? I think I have asked it of myself a thousand times since I’ve gone to college but today, I asked myself the question and I have no idea. How do I define myself?

I’ve spent the last 8 years of my life, either pregnant or holding a little one in my arms or my lap. For the last 8 years, I have been a mommy to the point that I have, quite literally, forgotten my life before them. It all seems like some story that I read about someone else. Above all else, I define myself as a mommy. It’s not just what I do. It is who I am. I am Bella and Gabi’s mommy. And I am blessed. I sometimes take that for granted.

I catch glimpses of the person I used to be in my daughters from time to time; in their fiery spirit and outrageous sense of humor and style. I see all the potential that I used to have and all the freedom of the future. I took that for granted too.

This morning, as I sat here alone with my thoughts, for the first time since school has started. Alone in our new home where we have started our new life surrounded by unfamiliarity, I felt profoundly alone. I miss my children.

They are only gone for 7 hours a day but with so much changing in our lives, I long for the comfortable familiarity in their little kitty cat voices, the shuffle of their feet beneath my own as we walk through the house, their laughter at the silliest of notions that carries through the air like the sweet smell of bread baking.

I miss their too-tight, never-gonna-le-me-go hugs and their delightfully slobbery kisses. I even miss the sibling rivalry fueled by pure love and devotion that just recently drove me to near insanity.

I miss the sweet smell of tops of heads, as their tiny, waif-like bodies cuddle beneath my arm and draw themselves nearer to me than I even knew possible. I miss the not knowing where I ended and they began.

I thought the small instances of letting go would be easier.

I used to think that all the time was too much. That event he best mommy needs at least a few minutes to herself but when my arms are empty and the house is quiet, I’d give back every golden minute of silence for just a sliver of their crazy. I am lonely. I miss my children. I am a mother with no children to feel the empty space and time.

Who am I? I am still a mommy. I worry every morning that I send them out the door that I will miss something. But that is part of letting go and growing up. It sucks big balls and I hate it with a passion but I am sure this means that I am evolving. No one stays the same, ever.

I used to be a girl full of spirit and dreams and potential and then I became a Mommy and all my dreams and hopes, all of my passion was focused on raising my daughters. It still is but now I have 7 hours a day to remember who I am. This is the time for me to have it all.

I am blessed. I have the pleasure and honor of being mommy to these two amazing little girls. I am married to my best friend and I finally have the time to appreciate it all and realize my own dreams as well, without feeling like I am ignoring my family or shirking my mommy duties. I should be ecstatic for the time to breathe finally but I am too busy feeling the pains of letting go, while trying to hold on.

It’s time to figure out who I am again and show my daughters that they can be everything they want to be in life, maybe just not all at the same time but right now, I miss my daughters and I am counting the minutes until pick up so I can see their adorable little faces as they light up when they see me…as I know mine will be when I see them. Letting go is so bittersweet.

Letting go is the hardest part of growing up.

1 comment
0 FacebookTwitterPinterestLinkedinStumbleuponEmail
kindergarten, dropp off,letting go

kindergarten, dropp off,letting go

Kindergarten is Kinda Killing Me

Kindergarten hasn’t gotten any better for me; it’s gotten worse. This morning was the first day that I dropped my five-year-old off at school and didn’t walk her to her kindergarten classroom. I know. She’s been a kindergartner for 8 whole days, as of today. I should be over it. But it’s different letting them walk in by themselves. That’s really letting them go to kindergarten without you. That’s relinquishing control. It’s trusting that they are okay without you, that they will make it safely to class from the drop off point, that they won’t get overwhelmed and reach out for you only for you to not be there. It’s admitting to kindergarten that my baby is now a big kid.

2 comments
0 FacebookTwitterPinterestLinkedinStumbleuponEmail
dog, daughter, kindergarten, back-to-school, first day of school, letting go

The first day of kindergarten and a sick dog. This week is emotionally chaotic. Too much change at once. This week is supposed to be hard. It’s the first week of school for my girls. Gabs is starting kindergarten, so obviously I am all verklempt. I am trying to hold my shit together because there is nothing worse than a 5 year old seeing her Mommy act like she’s sending her baby off to war. Oh, but my mommy heart. It hurts.

dog, daughter, kindergarten, back-to-school, first day of school, letting go

Meet the Kindergarten Teacher Day

I’m trying to be proactive and make it easier. Yesterday, I took her to school to meet the teacher and showed her around the room and the school.  We investigated every nook and cranny of that Kindergarten class. She was a bit overwhelmed but I kept telling her how awesome it was going to be and her big sister was there to reassure her. I just kept swallowing the lump in my throat. Pushing it down, down, down; where it will stay until I am safely outside the building on the first day of school this Thursday. THEN, I will collapse in a heaving, hyperventilating  pool of snot and tears.Yes, my heart is going to break. I know this. I’ve been here before with my first but this is different, this is my last baby.

My sweet little shy girl who embarrasses easily and who wears her heart on her sleeve. But like her sister before her, she will suck it up and make that funny little smile that tells me that she is feeling unsure and a little bit scared inside but she won’t let anyone else know, just her and I, it’s our secret. I’ll want to make it all better but the only way to make it better is to let her experience it and know that it is okay. This is one thing the girls have definitely inherited from me, they need to feel their feelings and survive them to know they can. We are “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger girls” and we are firmly set in our beliefs that, “Failure is not an option” even when it may seem like the only choice there is. We keep on trying. Both my girls are like that; stoic to the bitter end, almost to a fault. I wish she could just cry and get it all out but she’s too much like me. We do cry but first we push stuff down, way down and we carry on no matter how much it eats at us on the inside and necrotizes that spot we push it down to.

But the crap just keeps piling on. The same week that my baby starts kindergarten and my Bella has moved up to 2nd grade, my oldest and furriest girl (our 13 year old boxer, Saffaron) is sick. She’s old and we know that every day is a gift with this girl. Saffaron was the first baby the Big Guy and I had together. We brought her home in September, 4 months after we were married and she has been by our side since. I love this dog like only a Mommy can. My girls adore her. I’ve been trying to explain that sometimes people and animals get REALLY old (I’m trying to convince them that me being 39 is NOT really old) or sick and they go to sleep and then they go to be with God and wait for us. This is what I told them about their baby and now I am telling them this about their dog.

kindergarten, dog, letting go, growing up, getting old

This is how the dog marked meet the kindergarten teacher day

Today, the dog was really not feeling well. She was lying around not moving (she was breathing, I checked) but she just seemed done. Yes, I’ve seen this look before and we had a conversation last year. She owes me 5 more years, because my heart is not ready to say good-bye again so soon. I just had to say good-bye in May and I think there should be at least a year in between good-byes to people and things you love. Last year, she almost died from an acute case of pancreatitis. My grandmother died from pancreatic cancer about a month before my dog was afflicted. No, I am not saying that my Grandma gave my dog pancreatitis but my year in between good-byes rule came to mind this morning.

I grabbed my girls; sleepy (because she’s trying to adjust to the school sleep schedule), nervous (because she has been sporting her nervous “Help me mom” smile since she realized that this was the week she started BIG school) and Grandma Moses (because my once spry puppy is now an elderly 91) and off to the veterinarian hospital we went. As I looked in the rearview, I saw both of my daughters sporting the “Oh Jesus, please don’t today be the day our dog dies!”  TO my right, the dog is giving me the,”Please don’t hit any bumps. Dear Jesus, take me quick!” Me, I am torn. On one selfish hand, I don’t ever want that beautiful bitch to die. I just love her too damn much and our family will be incomplete without her walking around looking at us all like we are all a bunch of assholes before giving us lots of love out of pity for our stupidity. She thinks we are big dumb animals; it’s obvious to us.  But on the other hand, I don’t want her living in pain. Her body is not what it used to be. Her arthritis is awful in the mornings, she’s got glaucoma, and benign tumors pop up all over her body at random times for no apparent reason. She’s tired and I’m pretty sure that soon she will be ready to go and we will have to let her go.

The letting go sucks. I just hope it’s not this week. This week, I have that beautiful and sweet bitch pumped full of antibiotics and pain pills. We are all giving her a little more love and attention than usual. I’m hoping she will grace us with her big heart and floppy ears for at least another year. This week I have to start the letting go of my 5 year old and I just don’t think that my Mommy heart can handle losing my furry daughter. I don’t think any of us can, least of all the 5 year old. Please don’t turn the first week of kindergarten at my house into a country song.

How did you mark the first day of kindergarten?

kindergarten, dog, letting go, back-to-school

Kindergarten has got nothing on this dog

10 comments
0 FacebookTwitterPinterestLinkedinStumbleuponEmail
Newer Posts

This website uses cookies to improve your experience. We'll assume you're ok with this, but you can opt-out if you wish. Accept Read More