Her name is Rue. She is 8 weeks old and a beagle mix. Not sure what the 'mix' is. Isn't she adorable?
Her first day home she slept through the night except for a teensy bit of fussiness that she worked out on her own before she fell back to sleep.
She's an active little thing and cute as a button. Yes, as a button! Maybe next time I will remember to take a family portrait but right now it's all about the baby!
And no, um ... she has not met the cats. I suspect Rue will like them more than they will like her!
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Monday, September 27, 2010
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Monday, September 20, 2010
Saturday, September 18, 2010
Grocery shopping. I. Hate. It. Never go until the cupboards are bare and the fridge is empty. Hate it hate it hate it. But when I was a kid I used to beg my mom to let me go. I could never understand why it was such a big deal to let me go but every once in a while she would relent and let me tag along. And of course I did what every kid does "oh Mom can we have this? Can we buy that?" until I drove her crazy.
Frequently one of the first things my mom would do after getting into the grocery store was go straight to the candy aisle and pick up a box of Brachs candy. It comes in bags now but then it was a movie sized box. She would buy bridge mix usually, or sometimes chocolate stars. And buy the time she got to the check-out, she would be paying for the empty box.
Never thought much about it as a kid but as an adult I realized it was a little weird. Most people don't do that. Doing my own shopping now, I would never think of doing that although I can understand why people do it when they have their kids along! But my mom did it because she was a chocoholic. She didn't share much of it with me. For the record, I didn't like chocolate covered nuts as a kid. Probably why that was usually her choice.
Tonight was the first time I ever considered doing that. Shopping on an empty stomach and realizing my sugar had dropped, I was sweating, getting light headed and I needed something. I normally have something in my purse but of course this time, I didn't. But I could not bring myself to grab a box of bridge mix so I grabbed a bottle of pop from one of those coolers near the check-out. I only drink diet pop these days so sugared pop would be a quick sugar fix.
But now I'm wondering if a lot of people do this - because when I handed the bottle to the checker saying "careful, it's open" she didn't blink, scanned it - stuck a sticker on it and handed it back to me.
Is this a common thing? Because all these years I thought it was my mom's particular chocolate quirk. I had to pay for a half empty bottle tonight if I didn't want to take a header in the canned goods aisle, but it won't become a habit. And I suspect I will always think of it as being a bit weird.
Do you have a shopping quirk?
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Monday, September 13, 2010
Sunday, September 12, 2010
Cuz yeah I'm positive God created those things. They are too wondrous to have been created by man. What am I doing? Fixing my vacuum cleaner, what else? It wasn't picking up very well so I flipped it over (unplugged), removed the bottom and started trying to figure it out.
Turns out it's missing a piece that meets the slider thing that makes the height go up and down. So it's been stuck on "bare floor" or whatever it says and the spinner thing just can't spin like that on carpet. Argh-h-h-h!
I rigged it with some duct tape and it's working better but I'm going to be in the market for a new one soon. I need one that's good with pet hair, any recommendations? And please do not torture me with things I cannot afford like Dysons and Rainbows. Really, be kind.
I've always used an upright and never quite 'got' the canister vacuums. Pros and cons?
Saturday, September 11, 2010
Thursday, September 9, 2010
It's no secret that my mom has an eye for the men. Young men, preferably. The first day at the nursing home a strapping young guy came into the room and announced he was there to take her for a shower. Me? I would have cringed. Her? Grabbed her nightgown off the bed, gave him a big smile and said "Okay! Let's go." And off they went.
Last night one of the young guys spotted a picture of her on the digital picture frame in her room. It was when she was young enough to still be a redhead but old enough to be a grandma. Actually she was in her early 50's.
The young guy stopped pushing her wheelchair halfway to the bathroom when the photo caught his eye.
"Is that you?!" Somewhat in awe ..
"Yeah, good lookin' gal I was, huh?" Big smile, beaming actually.
"Wow!!" He meant it too.
I'm sure that made her day. Because the one thing she always says is "The thing that's wrong with all these guys in the nursing home is ... ... they're all SO-O-O .. O-O-L-D!"
So a bit of admiration (even in past tense) from one of the young guys always brings the color back to her cheeks.
Can't blame her there!
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
ENOUGH ALREADY!!! It has finally happened. I have become one with my couch. And it's not a good look.
Yes, tough day, eat ice cream. Yes, visited Mom, brought home more laundry, eat pizza. WHAT.EVER!
Got on the treadmill today. I want to see my elbows again, I want to be able to walk up a flight of stairs without getting winded and I want to be around to see any grandchildren I may have, if either of my children choose to "spawn" one day. My daughter's word, not mine.
Suffice it to say I cannot sit.all.the.time and expect to be healthy. I am not making any promises, haven't had some great epiphany, just need to say it out loud.
Because really, exercise is the answer to everything. Depression, weight gain, heart health, type 2 diabetes, and more - not to mention self image and confidence.
I don't expect to look like I did 30 years ago, my goals are more realistic. But good God I never expected to be a slug! My inactivity has been worse since my mom got here but really, that's no excuse. There is plenty of time to hop (like I hop!) on the treadmill for 20 minutes (at least) most days, it's just making myself do it.
I'm going to try. That's where it starts.
**I WANT that treadmill.
Monday, September 6, 2010
Friday, September 3, 2010
Because I takes meds for various things, it's necessary to go back and see the doc every 3 to 6 months, depending what's going on. Diagnosed with type 2 diabetes in December I did really well at first, eating well and losing about 20 lbs.
Then my mom got here.
With less time for shopping and preparing healthy food, once I went off the wagon I went the opposite direction and totally started medicating with food. Long day? I deserve Taco Bell. Awful day at work? I deserve ice-cream. A day off? I deserve to indulge. At work - have to get on that conference call? Wait - lemme get a candy bar first. Have to drive to the nursing home? Get some Skittles for the road. So, going to the doctor today I wasn't looking forward to what he had to say about gaining weight again.
Surprise! When he asked what was going on I answered with some variation of "Stress. Stress at work, stress at home, stress stress stress." And then I started to cry. And I absolutely had no idea going in there that I was feeling on the edge of well .. anything.
Queue the box of Kleenex while I dried my eyes and my doc tried some lame distraction-aimed conversation. How embarrassing. But oh, was that ALL that was going to happen? OF COURSE NOT.
Hopped up on the table and sat while the doc listened to my heart, my back, took my blood pressure, etc. I remember thinking "geez .. enough deep breaths already ..." and "am I going to pass out? A hot flash? What?" Sat back down on the chair and realized .. "Hey doc - you have something to test my blood sugar?"
Off I went to the little lab area where the nurse fumbled all over the place to find the right strips for the right meter and my doc (apparently a chocoholic I found out) brought me a Kit Kat to eat once they determined it was low blood sugar. Sigh-h-h ...
So there I was in an area normally considered a biohazard area eating a Kit Kat and drinking some diet coke, sweating profusely, flushed, and feeling a bit woozy. God was THAT attractive!!
When I made my way up to the desk to make a new appointment and pay my mom's bill, the receptionist came around the corner and said "I'm sorry, I didn't recognize you - you look great!" She must have seen the shocked-don't-have-a-clue look on my face so she said "BetteJo, right?" My brain started sluggishly going through files .. someone I went to high school with ... someone I know from work ... nothing was registering. She continued "You used to have short hair right?" "Er .. yeah .." "Right! You really look great!" I thanked her, still having no idea what change I might have made other than to grow out my hair .. or who she must have thought I was. I still have no idea.
She went into the computer and pulled up my mom's file and told me the amount she owed, telling me what a good daughter I am - and how good I looked. It was surreal. Home now, feeling kind of hungover and headachy. And I've sent my son off to get me a grilled chicken sandwich on chiabatta bread and a cannoli with chocolate chips. After this day, I deserve it, don't I?