Finn

So, I said that I was coming back. I was going to find the time to write. I was going to update everyone on the trip we took to Josh's parents and the beautiful river that they live and work on. I was going to post the cute picture of Lexy sitting on a horse at our friends farm, the pictures of her chasing the cats, looking at the chickens, running through the fields to find the cows. I was going to write about how I'm getting more and more exhausted because work is getting more and more oppressive (in terms of work load seeing as we have zero staff at the moment) and Lexy doesn't stop talking or asking questions for every second of her waking hours. And sometimes while she's sleeping. I put up one post... and then I got smacked in the head. Okay, not really smacked in the head. 22 staples in the stomach. Not my stomach. Finn's stomach.

Friday morning Finn peed on the floor at 2 am. I know, sorry, it's a tad gross. I had to get up and clean the floor at 2 am. It was gross for me, too. And then, when I woke up at 7, there was vomit and bowel movement on the floor. Now, I have a 2 year old. Accidents and sickness happen. But when you're having breakfast company and 2 year old awake and calling "Mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy" over and over and you still have to shower and make the said company breakfast, finding surprises on the floor is not the greatest way to start your day. And then there were ants in the kitchen.

At this point, following breakfast, I was completely selfish. I had realized something was really really really wrong with the dog when I couldn't get him to eat, he didn't want to see my girlfriend whom he loves, and he didn't want to move from the floor. In fact, he didn't want to lift his head. And then the stomach breathing started. That really deep, sucking, rolling breathing that you know is not a good thing. I called my mother. I believe my exact words were "I need my mommy and I'm not afraid to admit it." Oh, yeah, I was whining. Lexy was crazy from company, the dog was sick, there were ants in the kitchen. I wanted to sit on the floor and cry.

Long story short? Emergency vet appointment led to emergency vet hospital appointment followed by ultrasound followed by exploratory surgery followed by spleen removal and testing for cancer. It was almost like being back in the hospital after Lexy was born and seeing her in the NICU for the first time. The fear and icy feeling in the stomach and your heart beats a little irregular.



Our fur baby. Our first baby. Our permanent 2 year old. My company on quiet nights when Josh is out playing volleyball. My burglar alarm (or fox alarm). My buddy. Lexy's playmate. Lexy's "Finny Finn".



He got to come home Saturday night. He'd lost a lot of weight, couldn't walk very well, was really out of it with medication, had no appetite and had no interest in anything other than the new doggy pillow bed that we bought him to rest his sore belly on.




Our "franken-dog". 22 staples. An incision the entire length of his belly. And no way to explain to him what happened and why. He looks at me with these big eyes that tell me he wants to go for his long walk or to try and go down the stairs and he just doesn't get why it hurts so much for him to do it.

Every day he's getting better. He's eating again. We went for a short walk. He's walking up stairs but not down. He's wagging his tail when he sees new people. He's no where near being himself. But he'll get better from the surgery.

We're just waiting on spleen and liver biopsies to make any decisions about our 5 year old fur baby. The first child of our marriage and the first love of our lives as a family.



That's where I went this weekend. Maybe later this week I can update you on the river and the farm. Sometime after work before the biopsy results and during the "Mommy what's this?", "Mommy read this book", "Mommy I want want to watch Elmo"'s.

I hope your weekends were amazing. There must be some joy out there somewhere. Maybe it will be passed down this way when we get those test results Friday.



Love to you all.

Carin

Marrying the Mob

Dear Friends,

Spring is here. With it comes Easter, warm weather, baby bunnies, the birds return and wedding season is almost upon us. Josh and I got married in April. Hard to believe it's been almost 7 years. But what I didn't know when we got married was that I was marrying into the mafia. No, not really. But, sometimes it seems that way.

I grew up with a VERY small family. I have 1 brother, and scattered cousins in the "tristate" area. Okay, for those of you who know me I am blatantly avoiding any discussion of where exactly I live because I know there are some wackos who will come and steal my husband, child and one of the 12 cars that he owns. Well, right now it's only 3 but he's out looking at another one so by the time I'm done writing this is could be 4. I've seen my only living grandparents, and only aunt and uncle a handful of times as they live really really really far away and for some reason they don't want to head down south almost as much as we never headed up north.

I never felt like I was missing anything, even without the large family gatherings all my friends had. It wasn't anything I thought about or noticed, even though I know my mother cared. And then I met Josh. And his MASSIVE family. And I thought, wow, it must be such fun to have such a big family. And then I realized (while planning the wedding that I wanted to be extremely small but extremely fancy), there are TONS of problems associated with a big family, as in how to fit 150 guests on just one side into a 150 guest wedding when all I really wanted there was 50 or so. Stories of wedding planning aside (although some of the stories might make for good posts so come anniversary time there may be a few) events with Josh's family are just nerve racking for me. I've come to realize not only do I not like large crowds I do NOT like to be forced into community events just because "everyone else in the family is going to be there". I keep having flashbacks to my mother telling me "don't do what everyone else is doing just to fit in" and "if all your friends jumped off the Brooklyn bridge would you do it too?" and various other after school special quotes.

I am just NOT comfortable with that many people with so many activities and that many family obligations. Insert picture of the family reunion where I was forced to wear a mu-mu. Is that even how you spell mu-mu? Okay, no one looks skinny in a mu-mu. And, yes, they tried to get me to put one on Lexy. That got a definite "uh, no". No one looks attractive in a mu-mu, and if you show me a picture of Heidi Klum in one when she was pregnant I will hunt you down and make you wear one!

Yes, that's me on the right with Lexy, and just for clarifications sake, the wind was coming off the water from BEHIND us. I am so NOT 200 pounds.

Why all this talk about the size of family and marrying into the mafia style family? Josh's beautiful, talented, nicest person you would ever want to meet, homecoming queen, tall, willowy, amazing sense of style, blonde cousin is getting married to Mr. I Stepped Right Out of GQ Magazine in May. I love weddings. I am so excited to see her get married. She is one of Josh's family that I truly love seeing and look forward to talking to at any family event. I would do anything for this event if they asked because I adore her and I think her mother, Josh's aunt is one of God's angels. So, my reaction when I was asked to host the family shower was of course yes. Where I come from I was taught that it was poor manners to host a family shower, that showers were hosted by friends and if you had a shower hosted by family it meant you were desperate to receive gifts or in a very bad financial situation. Yes, I know I was raised by Miss Manner's cousin. And, again, I must reiterate, I love Tall Willowy Blonde and I am SO SO SO happy to do this for her because I think she is an AMAZING person. So, I have been looking at invitations, trying to nail down guest lists and menus (any menu advice? Please please please let me know) and think of shower games that won't embarrass the heck out of the honoree. Come May we'll see how I've done.

The point of this whole long and crazy story? As I said, I married into the mob. I was asked in the following manner:

"Carin, I think it would be really nice if you would host The Family shower for Tall Willowy Blonde. I think The Family would appreciate it."

Again, I didn't know I had married into the mob.

Love to you all,

C-

p.s. After writing this and thinking I had the numbers for a guest list finally in the completion stage, I got a second list... with an additional 5 names on it. I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop with the 4th list and another 5 or more.

7 Melancholy Dwarves

Dear Friends,

Yesterday was a bit discouraging. I posted an entry about my father and his birthday. I sent him a link, hoping that he would appreciate the gesture... backfire. I received an email saying "blah". And then I received one from my mother telling me that I had better not put her age or photo up for the blog, and a few other things. And that I needed to be careful about what I post, that Lexy might not appreciate it when she's 13.

Well, part of why I decided to write this blog was so that I could, if I decide I like what I write, I can print everything and make it into a book for Lexy. I'm terrible at scrapbooking, although I love buying all the stuff for it. I have her baby book, but have trouble sitting down and writing in it. I have tons of photos printed, but not put into photo albums. So, I'm feeling a bit of a failure in the "chronicling of my child's life" department. And then, after reading my friend's blog, followed by an almost immediate comment from another friend along the same topic, I felt like this was a great place for me to do something for me. And then, backfire. My mom said she didn't mean anything negative by the email, that because it was written and not spoken, it was misread. Which I believe and can understand. But it was still interpreted in a negative manner and it's hard to change your initial reaction to something. First impressions and all that.

I'm feeling discouraged instead of supported by my parents, although I can understand their misgivings. I'm trying not to post anything crazy or disgusting. Nothing that tells people where I live in case they are random visitors bent on kidnapping Josh or Lexy, or stealing our cars. I'm trying to put on entries about what it's like being a part-time working mom and how that works into being a full-time mom and a full-time wife (and full-time maid). Things for my friends to hear about how Lexy is growing and the things she's learning. I don't want to write anything that would make her cringe or be embarrassed by.

So, I guess I'm feeling blue, and mopey, and discouraged, and 4 other melancholy dwarves. The funny thing is that my lovely Shelley put a comment on one of my posts today saying that she "thought I was doing something special" with my blog. Incredibly timed. I'm not really sure how she knew that I was driving home from work and stewing over the exact topic that she commented on. To be honest, it's not like I have a lot of readers (I've decided that "readers" is a better term than "followers"), but I love the ability to be doing something for myself and express myself "out loud". Somedays I feel like I have no adult conversations, and some days that I do have adult conversations I feel like they're not "meaningful" conversations, and this has been a blessing for me. Not that this is actual conversation, but I've never been one for actual journaling, either, so if I feel like someone is reading what I write it gives incentive to continue the chronicling and writing. I guess I should let it settle and stew on it a little while longer. Let me know if you have any opinions on the matter.

Love to you all,

C

p.s. Can I also just tell you that Dancing with the Stars started last night, and thank you to Tivo I can watch Chuck and DWTS which makes Carin a very happy camper. So, I warn you now, if the blog continues beyond the week there maybe a few posts devoted to Evan Lysacek and the jive.