Socks

I gave the dog a bath today. Yes, I'm blogging about bathing the dog. (This is my life, people. I heart it.)

I love my dogs. What I do not love is dirty, stinky, flea bags. Which is why my dogs had been banished to spend the days OUTSIDE.

Socks is getting old. So I figured the warm water would feel good on his joints. He does seem to be in great health and doesn't complain about his joints but whatever. I attribute that to his dang expensive dog food. I don't want to send him to the groomer because he his old and sometimes a little cranky. And quite frankly, I'm cheap. (Having our other dog, the standard poodle, Nera, groomed nearly sends me over the edge. Cha Ching. But we have tried taking that task on ourselves to no avail. Just tell me how much it costs. And DON'T put bows in her hair.)

Back to Socks. Bath. He enjoys it, but not for as long as it takes as I am obsessive about washing and rinsing, washing and rinsing, washing and rinsing. Poor little trooper. But he is squeaky clean now! And I surely did threaten him when he went outside. "Don't be rolling around in the dirt, or else you are back outside, mister. And don't be bragging either because I am not in the mood to bathe Ding Dong." (That's Nera's nickname. We refuse to feel guilty over it.)




The dog loves cheese. So he gets his favorite treat after his bath.














Begging for more.












The dog is still scratching...and sneezing. Ugh.

Of squishy guts and having guts...

Yesterday was an emotional roller coaster.

My day started with a crunch. I stepped on a bug. Not just any bug, but one of those big ol' water bugs. Thank you, Jesus, that I had on my slippers. I could still feel the nasty thing crunch under my foot though. And there were guts. That I had to clean up. Ack! Now, usually when there's a big bug issue, I use a shoe (never mine) and SMACK!...leaving the shoe and smashed, but possibly still alive nuclear sized bug exactly right there for the hubby to take care of when he gets home. But I couldn't leave this oozy mess so I handled it, like a big girl. Ack again. Definitely not good.





Next came garage sales. Score!
Definitely good.














Later in the day, as I'm numbing my brain on Facebook, I come across some posted comments which are not 'TO' me, but they are definitely meant for me. You know the kind...Passive-Aggressive at it's cowardly best. Seriously, the things people have the guts to say, but never in person. I spiraled. Quickly. I was pissed, there's no lying about it. Now, before you get on your high horse about not letting someone else's comments get to me, blah blah blah, I already beat you to it. Because as quickly as I was pissed about the comments, I was even more pissed at myself that I allowed this person to get to me. So then I'm bombarded with all kinds of emotions, some spanning the last 20 years with this very same person, and some as fresh as yesterday when I began doubting my abilities as a mother. It was like the flood gates opened and when the wave hit, it hit hard. Then I cried. I cry when I'm angry and that makes me mad.

In what seemed like an instant, my mind rushed with all of the reasons I'm a failure as a mother. Not a single positive thought could fight it's way through the muck. For three hours I tortured myself mentally. Playing over and over in my mind all of my shortcomings, questioning my motives. It is absolutely astonishing what my mind is capable of. Three hours. The air was sucked right out of me.
Definitely not good.

Finally...my husband came home from work. I waited until our son was in bed. "Now I know you will probably think this is so stupid, but it got me all worked up." I showed him what I had found. I griped. Cried. Griped. Cried some more. Arms flailed.
God bless my husband. He was so understanding. And for EVERY reason I had that I suck as a mom, he had reasons and proof that I did not. Over and over: (me) "But...", (him) "No,..." He also reminded me of this person's motives and history. I recalled 20 years worth of reasons I should never give any weight to what this person says. Hubby and I reflected on 17 years worth of reasons why I don't suck as a mom. And our kids are proof that we are capable, loving parents that must be doing something right. See, we pride ourselves on parenting 'differently'. Being different isn't always easy, but that's another blog for another day.



So what I learned from this experience: Trust myself. Trust myself. Trust myself. I am a good mom. Consider the source before I get all worked up over something. Don't let this experience go to waste...Use it for something good. And...One of my husband's super powers is his ability to single-handedly pull me out of a deep, dark pit.


Definitely good.

Peace. Priceless.

I don't have a college degree from a fancy school. I don't receive a large paycheck each week. My 'corner' office is in a corner alright. I don't have letters, signifying what I studied in school, following my name. I don't have employees or a boss, so to speak. I have done countless hours of research, none of which will ever be published in a well-known paper for others to oogle over. I don't have some swinging social life. I don't have a big fancy house. I don't have an expensive car. I don't have a personal chef. I don't have a maid. I don't have a large retirement account. And I don't have society's idea of a perfect body.


But let me tell you what I DO have:
Wisdom and knowledge that only being a mother and wife can bring. Hugs and kisses each night before bedtime from the most amazing kids EVER and the most perfect husband. My office is a cherished old wooden vanity once owned by my grandparents, overlooking MY backyard. The letters M-O-M and W-I-F-E are all I need to make me feel special. (The 'no employees or boss'...my kids and hubby may disagree with me on that one.) But I do have well-balanced children that I am extremely proud of and a handsome husband that I adore. I have a healthy family, thanks to my research on ways to keep our bodies healthy. I have a comfortable and stable family who spends quality time together...at the supper table, vacationing, going to church, etc. I have a home filled with love and memories and treasures that have no monetary value, but are priceless to me. I drive a big ol' Suburban that will hold 2 adults, 2 kids, 2 dogs and all the crap you need to go on vacation. I AM the personal chef. It is my pleasure to prepare nutritious food (and sometimes the not-so-nutritious-but-just-because-we-love-it-food)to my grateful family. I have a well lived-in home (this is code for "it isn't always clutter-free"). I have the promise that the things I treasure most, my husband and children, will forever be mine. You can bank on that. And my body...well, it's perfect for my husband (wink).

I don't need anything else.