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Posts Tagged ‘Luna Mae’

This week was suppose to be my last serene week of both kids in school. A time to enjoy the peace and quiet of an empty house, the delights of which I won’t experience again until September. I had lots of nostalgic posts crafted in my brain about the year, its struggles, its successes and while I still hope to write those when I get 4 seconds or so to myself, for now I’m just going to throw a bunch of pictures of last weekend at you and run the other way. But know I really wanted to bore you with words much, much more and that I love you, Internet.

Last week Keaton and his good buddy Rex found a teeny tiny baby turtle at the park. Who knew reptiles could be so stinkin' cute?

We so wanted to bring it home to show Rowan and then release it into our pond which is home to lots of painted turtles, but some random lady came up to us and although she didn't have a badge, she fancied herself the turtle police and told us the turtle didn't need a mom {...?} and it was against the rules of the park to take him. The park is on Preserve land so we did let him go but seriously? I have the best memories of catching frogs, toads, minnows and turtles as a kid. We'd keep them well fed in a bucket for a few days then release them in a safe habitat. It was an awesome way to learn about and to respect animals. Things are so different now and while most of the time that's a good thing, sometimes it makes me sad.

Our next stop was the River Walk at William O'Brien state park. I think this is a wild violet- there are a ton of different purple wild flowers in bloom right now.

This is the best kid-friendly hike in our area because it's flat, with woods on one side and the river on the other- lots to see for little ones! Plus at the end there is a little area for the kids to take their shoes off and wade in the water only this year it was all flooded over which confused Keaton to no end. Still though, they had an awesome time. One of my favorite things is to see the backs of my kids as they run down the trail exploring.

Family toenail painting {except Bill who for some reason adamantly refused our invitation to join in several times}. Every time I ask Rowan if I can paint her nails she declines and Keaton comes running so I thought I'd better at least get some boy colors, right? I even got Rowan to try some!

On saturday the weather forecast was finally where it needed to be so the butterflies could be released. They had been MORE than ready for a week and the kids were excited to give them their freedom. {And PS I don't know what is up with Keaton's smile lately. He looks so cute until I ask him to look at the camera and then he screws his face up all funny. Honestly I think he does it just to mess with me.}

On the edge and then…
Free! There is a butterfly garden in the cemetery and the info the butterflies came with said that they stick pretty close to where they are released so we’re hoping we can catch a glimpse of 1 or 2 when we visit Grandpa in the next couple of weeks.
After the butterflies we went to another state park, and you can thank my dead camera battery for the lack of pictures of that. {No seriously, thank it- this post is already ridiculous with pictures.} After that hike we went to Bill’s parents’ for dinner and a bonfire where many many marshmallows were consumed.
The kids loved running around and helping Grandpa Rick with the fire.
This will be good training for when Bill and I make them responsible for all the landscaping and lawn maintenance when we finally get a yard.
Smoke monster, schmoke monster- Keaton’s not scared.
And look! Gratuitous photo of Bill to prove he’s still alive and handsome as ever.
And a full day of hiking and rolling in stinky nature stuff made for one happy Luna Mae, who is 78.2 percent ears and the rest tongue.
And finally we rounded out our memorial day activities, celebrating the birth of a teenager. I was sososo awkward at 13 but this girl seems to have skipped that stage. JERK. I was 17 when Jorie was born and WOW I feel really old right now…
Not as old as this guy though. Good luck with that teenager, Deps! {And for those of you unaware- this is how your teenager will look at you anytime you open your mouth from this moment on, for the next 7 years, with or without the option of varying degrees of eyeroll. Related? I have 7 years to save for junior high boarding school in Switzerland.}

Whew! I’m done photographically assaulting you for now. We bought a car yesterday and I am henceforth banished to our garage for the next 785 hours in an attempt to clean it out so both of our vehicles fit snugly inside. If you don’t hear from me within a week, it is safe to assume that I was probably murdered in a collective effort by the Dave Matthews posters, papazon chair and 17 cantankerous volumes of Norton’s literary anthologies as I try to make room for our purchase and rid the garage from the relics of my old collegiate self. Wish me luck?

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You guys. Poor Luna Mae is sick.

Exhibit A in Pathetic Puppiness.

And by sick I mean she has a bum back paw, but here at Hey This Will Amuse The Kids While Bill's Working Late Manor, we take every precaution to ensure the health of our precious bark factory.

YOU WANT TO PUT THAT WHERE? No way, Lady. I do a lot of things for left-over salami but I ain't that desperate. With very little effort I can just pluck it out of the hands of that small crazy one who shouts all the time.

Oh fine. But when you're done could you fluff my pillow and adjust my blanket?*

Bill noticed her limping yesterday afternoon but didn’t inform me of this until after I dragged her out on a 3 mile long walk and between Rowan shouting Tree! Leaf! Bug! Other bug! OMFG LOOK AT ALL THE BUGS! and Keaton’s temper tantrum over what a cruel and unusual punishment holding hands while crossing the street is, I barely had time to slow down so Luna could pee let alone pay attention to her gait.

This morning when I got up to go for my joggerwalky (am back in the saddle! bet you can’t wait until I report my next injury!) Luna hobbled off her pillow, doing a three-legged walk/hop gimp combo, putting no weight whatsoever on her back right paw. We looked it over and though she doesn’t have a visible injury, one of the pads looks mighty swollen so no joggerwalkying for her for a while. I feel so bad for her but on the plus side I was able to complete my run in record time without the 800 pounds of dog crap weighing me down. Still though. It was lonely out there without her.

And in case you were wondering…

She is NOT receiving visitors at the moment. Fawksey found this out the hard way. Instead maybe just send gin and limes. I'll make sure she gets them.

* Wow. I just totally spent time wrapping salami around a toy thermometer so I could take a picture of my dog. I’m going to do some heavy meditation over this but I think I’ll come up with the same conclusion I’ve already drawn: A life? I NEED ONE.

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Short answer as given by my doctor: “Uhhh…….”

Long answer as given by me: “And by “Uhhh” you mean…”

Fact: I am NOT a fan of family practice doctors. I understand their purpose in the grand scheme of the medical personnel system (the defensive line to keep the easily deterred off the appointment books of specialists) but to me they have proven nothing other than when you learn a little bit about a gigantic amount of things, that knowledge is essentially useless. Just give them a list of antibiotics they are allowed to prescribe and superfluous lab test they can order and VOILA! A family practice physician is born. I will admit to having very bad luck ever being properly diagnosed with anything by a family practice physician so I am one jaded mother effer when it comes to going to the doctor, but I really thought this injury would be a clear-cut thing.

Twas NOT, unfortunately. The x-ray revealed bones that were not only intact but caused the doctor, who hadn’t even looked at my foot yet, to say, “Wow, those are some great looking bones.” (Was he hitting on my metatarsals? I will admit they are pretty sexy. You know, for bones in a foot.) I could tell he thought whatever was wrong couldn’t be that bad based on the pictures, but then he looked at the giant knob of swelling, formerly known as my ankle bone, and was all “Errr…” This really instilled heaps of confidence in him for me.

He didn’t say much about tendons or ligaments but just said the damage was clearly somewhere in the soft tissue but also was concerned because there wasn’t a specific incident that brought the injury on, i.e.: rolling it, or tripping, or landing on it wrong. The swelling appears to be brought on by overuse and that means he wanted blood tests to rule out things like lyme disease, gout and rheumatoid arthritis. Here is why these three are possible in my case:

Lyme disease: We live in an area that has a ridiculous overabundance of deer ticks and this medical practice knows it. You go in for anything from the common cold to a bum knee to split ends and they test you for freaking lyme disease. I think I’ve been tested 4 times in the last 10 years.

Gout: Genetic. My dad had a couple of really terrible gout flare ups in his feet when he was in his 30s and 40s. It would be extremely rare and odd for someone of my age to get it, plus I’ve heard it’s so painful that if someone even looks at your foot the wrong way you double over in pain so I really don’t think that’s it. Of course if it is, I’m going to demand Bill install a rickety porch swing for me to sit on, get a cane with a bear or eagle head carved on top and then I’m going to yell at passing children and cars because GOOD GOD if you’re going to give me an old man’s disease you better believe I’m going to play the part.

Arthritis, specifically but not limited to the rheumatoid variety: Apparently my mom and her maternal grandmother had completely random, terrible flare-ups of this the year they turned 30. (Weird, huh?) My mom’s started with a bruise on her ankle she didn’t know how she got and ended with three months of completely incapacitating swelling and pain in her ankle and knee joints. After months of testing they finally gave her steroids but by then she had permanent damage from the months of non-treatment.

Thankfully the doc I saw is at least making up for his lack of diagnosis by prescribing me a 5 day regimen of an impressive amount of steroids and anti-inflamatory pain meds to see if that will take care of the problem along with orders to stay-off, elevate and ice the ankle. Also, I’m extremely lucky to have a husband with a flexible enough team at work that allows him to work from home so I can follow these orders. That, along with help from my mother-in-law  tomorrow, and I should be guaranteed at least 2 days off the ankle to stare at the wall and drool because these pills totally put me smack dab in the middle of la-la land. It’s nice here! The leprechauns are super friendly!

Also? I’m being tended to in shifts…

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Short answer as given by my doctor: “Uhhh…….”

Long answer as given by me: “And by “Uhhh” you mean…”

Fact: I am NOT a fan of family practice doctors. I understand their purpose in the grand scheme of the medical personnel system (the defensive line to keep the easily deterred off the appointment books of specialists) but to me they have proven nothing other than when you learn a little bit about a gigantic amount of things, that knowledge is essentially useless. Just give them a list of antibiotics they are allowed to prescribe and superfluous lab test they can order and VOILA! A family practice physician is born. I will admit to having very bad luck ever being properly diagnosed with anything by a family practice physician so I am one jaded mother effer when it comes to going to the doctor, but I really thought this injury would be a clear-cut thing.

Twas NOT, unfortunately. The x-ray revealed bones that were not only intact but caused the doctor, who hadn’t even looked at my foot yet, to say, “Wow, those are some great looking bones.” (Was he hitting on my metatarsals? I will admit they are pretty sexy. You know, for bones in a foot.) I could tell he thought whatever was wrong couldn’t be that bad based on the pictures, but then he looked at the giant knob of swelling, formerly known as my ankle bone, and was all “Errr…” This really instilled heaps of confidence in him for me.

He didn’t say much about tendons or ligaments but just said the damage was clearly somewhere in the soft tissue but also was concerned because there wasn’t a specific incident that brought the injury on, i.e.: rolling it, or tripping, or landing on it wrong. The swelling appears to be brought on by overuse and that means he wanted blood tests to rule out things like lyme disease, gout and rheumatoid arthritis. Here is why these three are possible in my case:

Lyme disease: We live in an area that has a ridiculous overabundance of deer ticks and this medical practice knows it. You go in for anything from the common cold to a bum knee to split ends and they test you for freaking lyme disease. I think I’ve been tested 4 times in the last 10 years.

Gout: Genetic. My dad had a couple of really terrible gout flare ups in his feet when he was in his 30s and 40s. It would be extremely rare and odd for someone of my age to get it, plus I’ve heard it’s so painful that if someone even looks at your foot the wrong way you double over in pain so I really don’t think that’s it. Of course if it is, I’m going to demand Bill install a rickety porch swing for me to sit on, get a cane with a bear or eagle head carved on top and then I’m going to yell at passing children and cars because GOOD GOD if you’re going to give me an old man’s disease you better believe I’m going to play the part.

Arthritis, specifically but not limited to the rheumatoid variety: Apparently my mom and her maternal grandmother had completely random, terrible flare-ups of this the year they turned 30. (Weird, huh?) My mom’s started with a bruise on her ankle she didn’t know how she got and ended with three months of completely incapacitating swelling and pain in her ankle and knee joints. After months of testing they finally gave her steroids but by then she had permanent damage from the months of non-treatment.

Thankfully the doc I saw is at least making up for his lack of diagnosis by prescribing me a 5 day regimen of an impressive amount of steroids and anti-inflamatory pain meds to see if that will take care of the problem along with orders to stay-off, elevate and ice the ankle. Also, I’m extremely lucky to have a husband with a flexible enough team at work that allows him to work from home so I can follow these orders. That, along with help from my mother-in-law  tomorrow, and I should be guaranteed at least 2 days off the ankle to stare at the wall and drool because these pills totally put me smack dab in the middle of la-la land. It’s nice here! The leprechauns are super friendly!

Also? I’m being tended to in shifts…

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Today Bill and I spent nearly $300 getting our carpet cleaned for the first time in over four years, thanks to these lovely creatures:

Me? Spill? Keaton did it!

"You were supposed to catch that bowl of spaghetti in your mouth, Luna Mae."

We admit to nothing.

Well, except for that little trick where I scoot my butt across the floor. That's sort of my specialty.

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So here we are, a little over a month past Luna’s run in with a ’89 Kawasaki Ninja* and my promise that I would train the beast, er, dog. I can tell you that I have purchased training treats, dug out the little clickity clicker thing and even gone so far as to attempt a few sessions. So, see? That is what they call INITIATIVE and EFFORT.

That’s kinda where I lose it though. She does best in short 7-10 minute sessions where we run down our list of oldies but goodies like “sit” “lay down” “up” “off” and “dance” (I will admit to making her dance, laughing and then losing interest in the rest because COME ON, my dog knows how to dance what else does she really need to know.) I have even dusted off what little I remember from puppy training pre gate-gate incident and have been working on “Stay” with her.

The issue we’re having is that she does excellent in these sessions but it all goes out the window once the training treats are put away.  I use the same language and reward her in a firm but happy tone when she does well but then she looks at me like this:

lunakea3

Where is my treat, bitch. I want that you put it in my mouth now. Am unamused.

Now I know I could buy one of those super fashionable fanny pack or Home Depot nail holder satchel thingers so that I can have stinky dog treats on my person all day long but you KNOW Keaton will eat more of them than Luna if I attempt that and, well…I don’t wanna. So there.

I know I have to take responsibility for caring for our animals and training is a part of that but it gets really overwhelming when I am in the trenches of training a human being at the same time.Rowan needs love and direction but is trained in the art of humanly living for the most part. She knows how to be polite, how to use utensils, does her business in the potty, is capable of cleaning up after herself, and can entertain herself for substantial amounts of time. Keaton however can do none of these things and though it would be simplifying things greatly (and be a little disturbing) if I compared raising a toddler to training a dog, I’m totally going to do it anyway. They are both uncouth, slobbery little creations that like to sniff/play with feces, eat by diving face first (though I will say Luna is a WAY neater eater (Haha, anybody want a peanut) than Mr. K), get so overly excited they trip and fall down, whine if I leave the room and pee on the floor (note to Keaton and Luna: QUIT PEEING ON THE FLOOR).

We do no such thing. Except for we do. Come on! It's funny!

We do no such thing. Except for we do. Come on! It's funny!

It might be in everybody’s best interest if I just try and get Keaton through the next year or so of his life so I can focus better on Luna Mae later. OR perhaps I should get one of the nail/treat holder things and put Luna’s treats in one side and granola bites for Keaton in the other and they can learn at the same time. Hmm, am I a terrible parent for thinking that or just really really smart? I think smart. TERRIBLY SMART.

Anyways, that is where we are at, I will let you know how we are progressing (or more likely not) in a month or so.

Pee peas's in a pod.

Two pee peas in a pod.

*Once upon a time on a beautifully warm spring evening a young family of four went for a walk with their rowdy little dog. Afterwards they stopped in the center common area of their development to throw the ball to said rowdy pup and bask in the perfectness of life tra-la-la. The birds were chirping, the light breeze was warm on their faces, the children were full of spring and giggles and then the stupid fucking dog spotted another stupid fucking dog, booked ass across the road to sniff stupid fucking dog #2’s butt but instead was met with the front wheel of a stupid fucking motorcycle. Stupid fucking dog ran off unharmed, motorcycle went BOOM CRASH and kerching, kerching. THE END.

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