The Little Things

I've been taking the easy way out when it comes to this blog as of late. I post rarely and only to write a funny quirk about the kiddo, to share a photo or two. I lamely assert that there's nothing going on worth writing about. But the truth is that there's plenty to write about, and for whatever reason, I'm reluctant to put it down. As if by not writing about it, it will somehow go away. Because there's quite a bit of sadness going on. Maybe because I'm the oldest, maybe because I'm accustomed to putting on a brave face, a forced smile, I don't share the sad news. But so it remains. And I'm not doing myself any favors by keeping it bottled up inside, an ache in my belly, a lump in my throat.

Yes, a lot has happened. We were forced to find a home for one of our dogs because after 5 years the two female pugs had evidently had enough and resorted to mauling one another. I patched and bandaged. The vets stitched and medicated. We sought the help of an animal behavioralist. We set up strict routines. But when it came down to it, our original pug had settled into bitchy old ladydom and had had enough with the rescue pug. The rescue pug, an acute fighter, wasn't about to give up her alpha role, however. Thank God Boo never got between the two during a tussle. But I most assuredly did. Still have the scars to prove it, too.

Thankfully, we were blessed with a wonderful retired couple who took in Ginger to keep their elderly, blind male pug company. The two are fast friends, sleeping in the same bed. The situation couldn't have ended more happily. Yet Boo still asks about Ginger, and I am left with the guilt that accompanies crappy pet owners. I did what I never thought I'd ever do: I gave away a family member.

In the same vein, more disappointment reigns in our ongoing failed attempts to give Boo a sibling. We're currently seeing a specialist who has prescribed medication to force my body to regulate itself, which it apparently never did naturally after Boo's birth so many years ago. The treatment is expensive, not covered by insurance, and at the moment leaving me sick. Tomorrow we will revisit this doctor and see what the next plan of action entails. I'm feeling very much at the end of my rope.

BUT there's no time for pouting (this post aside, really). I'm drowning in freelance. While my friends lose their jobs at my respective former employers, I'm awash in work. There are TWO family weddings this upcoming year, God help me. And at the moment, I'm awaiting the arrival of some Chicago friends. So I'm plastering on that smile, pushing aside the disappointments, and making it look like that things here? Well, they're just hunky dory!