Dog Days Of Summer

This maniac goes by the name of Oliver. It's been twelve years since we had a puppy around and the experience is eerily similar to having a baby. You forget how hard the first year is and decide to do it again. Sometimes more than once. Our old pup Colt headed to dog heaven two weeks ago after a long battle with stomach cancer and arthritis in his hips. It was one of the most difficult decisions we have made, but watching him struggle to get up the stairs and lose control of his bowels was heart wrenching and we knew it was time. My husband was with him as the vet placed the needle in his leg and he went to sleep for the last time. We all cried and reminisced about the dog who had seen both our kids come home from the hospital, licked their faces as they learned to crawl and taught us all about companionship. He will forever be in our hearts.

After a couple of weeks of coming home to a quiet house with no one meeting us at the door or licking up the extras from our meals, we knew we wanted another dog. We spent a few days researching breeds, checking the Humane Society website and looking at ads on KSL. My husband was drawn to pups who looked eerily similar to Colt and I wanted a small breed that wouldn't shed as much and may have a longer life span. Twelve years may sound like a lot, but when it's over and your furry friend isn't there, you wonder why pups don't live to the ripe old age of eighty.

We decided to check out two pups last Saturday and bring one of them home. The first stop was to see some tiny little guys who were a crazy mix of twelve different breeds and could fit in the palm of your hand. In the picture, I was sure this was the pup for us, they were black and white and the owner had done a great job at painting a rosy picture of the puppies situation. However, when we got there, the vibe wasn't right and even after holding them, we didn't think we would be back for the little guys. They were clearly being sold too early and at six weeks, they needed their momma more than they needed to be shoved off to new owners. The next stop was just a few miles down the road to see a hound dog who had been adopted, but couldn't stay with the family due to pet restrictions in their city. When this little fur ball came bounding up to us, I couldn't imagine leaving without him. He took to us right away and the owner was thrilled to have found a family who could love and care for the pup that she was unable to care for.

As you can see, he has the sweetest eyes and a set of Dumbo ears that are great at hiding what a little shit burglar he really is. He chews on everything, pees at random and prefers to shit on the deck because his tender little paws don't like wet grass. His stance is deceiving and he constantly looks like he needs to take a dump. I spend my days following him around watching his butthole for just the right pucker, so I can scoop him up before anything lands on the carpet. It's worse than potty training a kid. He can't be left alone without being roped in one particular room and the makeshift baby gates I am using look more like a tornado came through and upturned coffee tables and couch cushions. There is a litter box he wants to eat out of, couches to chew and shoes that he pulls under the dining room table to gnaw on while avoiding our watchful eyes. We are all exhausted and thoroughly in love. He sleeps in between my husband and I, sometimes with his entire body covering my head. He has that new puppy smell that is more delicious than any new car smell that I have ever encountered. The best part is that he's teaching us all a lesson about life....when one love leaves there is always more love around the corner.

Loving Dirty Underwear

Our wedding day, August 23, 2000.

I did my fair share of dating. By fair share, I mean what I feel was fair and enough that I didn't need to share myself with anyone else. High school wasn't the highlight of my life, social or otherwise, so very little dating went on and when I got out of high school I was convinced that there was no one romantically interested in a weirdo like me. I had gay friends who fulfilled the part of me that wanted to hear "You look hot" or "Let me pick you up for dinner, sweetie". I knew how to masturbate, so looking to get laid wasn't making my to-do list at the time.

My longest relationship, before meeting my husband, lasted a couple of months and ended when this particular guy visited me in Vegas and informed me that he wanted to give up his whole life and move in with me. The desperately needy thing was a turn off and I dumped him before he headed back home. I had one relationship (if you can call it that) which ended after I drove 40 minutes to bring Mr. Faker homemade chicken noodle soup and found him in bed with a girl whom he introduced to me as his girlfriend. There was the guy with a mullet who took me on a ride down State Street on his bullet bike and forced me to question the type of men I attracted. If they weren't in a band (equals jobless) than they lived with their mom (equals will love her more than you). My batting average wasn't very good. One of the band guys took me to his sister's house, where he lived on the couch, and proceeded to treat me in a manner that I imagine most prostitutes would find disturbing. A couple of weeks later, he introduced me to his girlfriend after I surprised him by showing up to one of his shows. Yeah, I've been that girl a few times.

I wasn't made to withstand the "bliss" of having a random guy buy me a drink in a bar, ask for my number and then fuck my best friend the next weekend. I've never enjoyed having strangers buy me drinks, I'm clear that there is an expectation. My parents taught me that nothing in life is free, so that shit never worked on me. I don't like wondering if you want to hold my hand or kiss me at the end of our date. I find no joy in hearing you call your mom a horrendous bitch or informing me that you have two kids you never see because their mom is cunt. It tells me a lot about a man who speak about women in derogatory terms and I don't like it.

Then one day it all changed. I met someone who worked, went to school, and respected me. He wasn't in a band (which makes sense if you have ever heard him sing) and after 13 years, I have never walked in to find him fucking anyone else. Or introducing me to his girlfriend. We had new love that eventually grew into saggy boobed, spare tire love. While some may tout the heart palpitating joy of new love, I will take old love every day of the week. The longer I wake up next to the same farting rear end, the more I realize that I wasn't cut out for single.

I like consistent. I like waking up to the same bad breath, the same inability to take a quiet shower, the same pair of holey underwear and the same drink cups left in every corner of the house. I love washing aforementioned holey underwear and turning the one leg of your jeans inside out before I throw them in the washer. It is a little piece of heaven when you gently caress my back and ask me if I am up for one more show. I am totally up for one more show. I was built for long, smelly, old, fat, nasty love. That new stuff is highly overrated and I get the same butterflies I did the first time you kissed me, except now I don't ever wonder if it will be the last time. We will kiss again tomorrow and the next day and then we will fight about money or who is getting up with the kids. I will apologize and so will you and I'll curse your dirty underwear after you leave for work. But I wouldn't have it any other way.

  Our first 5k together, May 2013.

Don't forget to head over to mythirtyspot.com where I have a new article about raising boys and why I was scared shitless to do it. 

What I Love And Love To Hate

I am a voyeur. I love to know creepy details about other people and I absolutely adore watching how other people function on a day to day basis. It explains my obsession with people watching at Starbucks and watching reality shows back when they were actually real, ie: Intervention, Dateline and Cops. Huge fan. Maybe you don't care about knowing the details of other people's lives and if that is the case, this post is not for you. Today, I will delve in to the nitty gritty of what I love and the crap that makes me want to slam my head into a brick wall. For those of you who stay interested, it may surprise you to know a few of these things and some of them may have you questioning your affection for me.

Things I Love

-Hiking
This is surprising to me because I hate camping. Find out why in my semi-amusing post about this childhood activity. http://busybeinghappy.blogspot.com/2013/03/why-camping-is-like-work-without.html
I realized two years ago, that being in the mountains without having to sleep there was actually quite therapeutic and an amazing workout. I enjoy pushing my body past what I thought it was capable of, I like sweating a ton, seeing an amazing view and then stuffing more calories in my body than humanly possible. I can justify an Old Fashioned burger from Dairy Delight (the size of my head, no joke) after burning 1,000 calories hauling my ass up a mountain. I look at the top of that mountain and I see food, it's why I don't give up when I really want to sit down and cry.

-Brussel Sprouts
I think they taste yummy, so fuck you.

-Neil Diamond
Huge fan. I grew up listening to to this man and wondering why he didn't marry my mom when he had the opportunity, they would have made an adorable couple. I listen to Neil Diamond radio on Pandora at least once a day and saw the man, the myth, the legend in concert last year. (You will see in the hate list below why I would rather enjoy him on Pandora.) He may not make your list, but I love this son of a bitch.

-Rage Against The Machine When I Am Angry
The proof is in the pudding on this one. It makes me feel better. I crank it up on my shitty car speakers, they crackle and I feel so much better screaming "Fuck you, I won't do what you tell me."

-Bottled water
It tastes better. It's more convenient. I don't care that I have to pay for it. You think I'm a dick and that's just fine with me.

-Smoking
Yes, I have read the Surgeon General's warning. I know about the health effects. I know it makes people angry to see someone they love choosing to smoke. I know people view me as a bad parent for doing it in front of my kids. I know there are consequences. All that being said, I like to smoke and I don't plan to quit anytime soon. I don't need warnings from strangers or eye rolls from people I love and here is why....you get to decide what to put in your body and so do I. Whether you have a taste for prescription drugs, McDonald's burgers or Diet Shit Cola, it's your choice. I get to have one, too.

Things I Love To Hate

-The Goo Goo Dolls, Pink Floyd and The B-52's
Shitty music that makes my ears bleed.

-Concerts
I hate the parking, the crowds, and spending a car payment on one ticket. The real fun begins when I get to my nosebleed seat next to some ass bag who sings louder than the person I paid to see. I need binoculars to see the stage and I want to punch a baby. (I don't punch babies, so relax.) My concert going experience gets worse the older I get, so my one wish is that I never have to go to another one again. Ever.

-Diet Drinks
They taste worse than ass. Don't ask me how I know that. I don't care how overweight I get, I will never volunteer my taste buds for that kind of torture. Drinks were meant to taste yummy....beer, wine, milkshakes, Red Bull, iced tea. You see what I'm saying?

-Waking Up Early
I love people who endlessly vomit the benefits of seeing a sunrise and getting in a 20 mile run before heading to work at 8 am. And by love, I mean hate. There is nothing I need to see more at 6 am than my fucking eyelids. If I have to work early, fine. If I have an event, fine. You will never see me wake up early for the joy of waking up early. Because that is not joy.

-Newborns
I love my kids. I have loved them from the moment that they were a pinto bean in my belly, but I never loved the newborn stage of human beings. It's a lot of crying, pooping, nipple chomping, screaming and restless nights that I just never enjoyed. I suffered through the first three months because people told me it got better and they were right. I love having kids who talk to me, grab a drink out of the fridge and sleep for longer than 2 hours a night. Bless the babies, but I am not a person who wishes my kids were infants again.

-Horror Movies
At the tender age of 10, I was invited to a birthday party for a girl in my class whom I didn't know very well. When I arrived we did normal kid stuff like eating cake and playing games. Then the party took a turn for the worse. She put in Nightmare on Elm Street and while everyone else watched in amazement, I secretly puckered my asshole for fear I would shit myself. We were then led outside where we would be sleeping in a tent and waiting for Freddy Kruger to come tie us up over a bed where we would plummet into the depths of hell. No thanks. I called my mom, went home early and have hated horror movies ever since. Please argue this point with me...how fun it is to be scared. Wrong. I get scared when my seven year old jumps out from behind a door and I nearly fainted when the guy with the fake chain saw chased me out of the haunted house. Pass.

-Sex Anywhere But In A Bed
Yes I am a Scorpio and yes I have a sex drive. I don't like being uncomfortable. I don't like giving others the opportunity to see me in a vulnerable position. Don't feel bad for my husband, the thirteen years we have been together tells me he has accepted this quality in me. I have sex in the comfort of sheets and memory foam mattresses. No elevators, no tents (SOOO GROSS), no stairwells or back seats. I have tried it, and similar to Pink Floyd The Wall, I fucking hate it.

I will be honest, I could go on and on, but I think we have made good progress today. Please, please, please comment below and let me know what you hate, what you love and why.Your favorite food or a band that you wish would get lost in the Bermuda Triangle. I'd like to know that I'm not the only one who wonders how the Goo Goo Dolls ever obtained a record deal. It's like my own reality show.

If you haven't had a chance, please read my most recent article on making a bucket list, it's over at mythirtyspot.
http://www.mythirtyspot.com/2013/08/finding-bucket-list-in-our-30s.html

My Giving Challenge: Ugh, Blah and Love

Day 14: What is a gift?

It was destined to happen, right? The day where I was so busy, so overwhelmed, and could't see how or where I would fit in giving a gift. That was today. I needed to do payroll, get some writing assignments sent off and get back home in time to clean up and make dinner. As I retrace my day, I can see many times where I gave a gift, but not with full intention and then I got all fucked up in my head and say "Well, that doesn't count." Picking up a drink for my hubby, taking a check to the bank so he didn't have to, making food, cleaning and laughing with my kids. This is a running theme in my life. I have a tendency to undervalue what I do and see the greatness in others when they do the same thing. Even after working for a few hours, coming home to play with my kids, making spaghetti dinner for my family and cleaning up the kitchen, I told myself I hadn't given a gift. I had failed. I would have to start over and begin with Day 1, as they recommend in the book. I was overwhelmed with the thought of starting over after being almost halfway through my challenge.

Then I remembered one of the gifts I had read about in the book, the author had made her husband dinner one evening. It was big for her because she struggled with MS and had been unable to cook, clean or even leave her house alone. Here is what I told myself....I make dinner every night and I don't have MS and I need to do something bigger and now I have failed. I almost allowed it to get me so bummed out that I contemplated quitting the challenge all together.

After a couple of days to get over myself, I realize that I did give my family a gift by making dinner and that regardless of how big or small it may seem, it is a gift. I learn a lot about myself through this blog and this challenge especially, today I learned that what I expect from myself is sometimes ridiculously unreachable.

Day 15: The Job No One Wants

I have a few jobs around my house that I detest tackling, ie; scrubbing bathtubs, cleaning showers, making beds and dusting blinds. I would imagine that most people who work, whether at home or away, have a few things they avoid doing or begrudgingly tackle only when its absolutely necessary. At our small business, its pulling items. There are rows and rows of bins and numerous pages that need to be done, which can take anywhere from 45 minutes to 2 hours depending on sales. It's monotonous. Wandering the warehouse, pulling bags out of bins and realizing after an hour that you still have two more pages to go before you throw yourself off the roof. It is right up there with scrubbing tubs, for me.

Saturday's at our house are usually spent at home getting chores done or taking the kids on an outing. This weekend, my hubby had to work and I had a couple of hours to spare before a party, so we all went to the warehouse together. My daughter wanted to work, but no one wanted to pull the 7 pages of items that needed to be shipped. That would be my gift today. I took the pages and left my family in the cool office while I tackled spiders and heat in the warehouse. I actually enjoyed myself. I daydreamed about what my kids would be like when they grew up and where I would like to travel. It's amazing how shifting my attitude from "UGH" to "HOORAY", changed even the most lackluster job.

Today, I also received a much needed phone call from a friend who had just finished reading the last few weeks of blog posts on here. She called to let me know how amazing she thought my writing was and how she wanted to share it with everyone she knew. I was having a grouchy evening and it meant so much to me to hear that she was reading, enjoying and sharing my blog. When I feel like punching a wall, the Universe sends me the love I need. It's no accident.

Day 16: Saying I Love You

We hear it all the time, make sure to tell the ones you love how much you care about them before it's too late. A few years back, it almost was too late. My sister was in a terrible head on collision on the interstate while she was headed to work one morning. The roads were covered in snow and she was bumped by a semi-truck which sent her spinning into oncoming traffic. It happened that fast. One moment she was driving to work and the next moment she was trapped in her car with shattered glass filling her mouth and a broken femur. There is no way to explain how bad her car was damaged except to say that the insurance adjuster didn't believe my mother when she told him that my sister had survived the accident. Had I told her the day before that I loved her? Had I talked to her in the last week? I don't know. I don't remember. And that is not okay with me. I never want my family or friends to wonder if they were loved, to wonder how I felt about them or question how important they are in my life.

My gift today was a phone call and a text message to two people I love very much. I don't want to miss a single opportunity to share that with people in my life.

Today, I also received a phone call from someone I gifted last week, thanking me for the package he received in the mail. It was heartwarming to hear his voice and know that the small token I had given was appreciated. Giving is also about receiving....receiving thanks without saying "It's no problem" or "It wasn't that much". Instead I received the gift of thanks with "You are welcome." The end.

My Stand

When horrible things happen, it is easy to lose focus and forget the millions of beautiful moments that occur every minute of every day. There is very little news coverage of all the people in the world loving their children, caring for animals, feeding the hungry and putting their lives on the line to keep us safe. In my heart, I know these people outnumber the evil that seems to garner so much attention. I was so busy enjoying the scenery at Central Park and time with my husband, that I didn't hear of all the news coverage until much later. What I saw was heart wrenching and it wouldn't stop. The photos, the guessing, and the thought that evil reigns supreme.

I will share with you my truth and let you take from it what you will. Perhaps you agree, perhaps you do not. I have a lot of fun in this blog picking apart society and sharing with you things that make me laugh or drive me bonkers. For someone who does not know me on a personal level, it may seem that I am callous or so judgmental that I can't see past the end of my own arm. The truth is, I find humor in life because it helps me cope with the tragedy. Like most people, I have lived through many painful life experiences. From having an absent father, being bullied in school and sexually assaulted at work to losing loved ones to cancer and being alive during many tragic world events. I am not blind to pain and suffering. I don't choose to look the other way or pretend it isn't happening. What I choose to do is see the love. I don't watch the news because it takes time away being at the dinner table with my children. I don't dwell on wars because that takes time away from laughing with my husband. I don't read the newspaper because I wouldn't have time to write this blog or drink coffee on my front porch. I make choices that are in line with my beliefs and move me forward. I don't live in fear, I live in love.

My truth is that the majority of humans on this planet are good. I find love and compassion in my world every day. I choose to spend my time raising amazing children whom I hope one day will become loving and compassionate adults. I love my neighbors and volunteer at my kid's school.  I am a stand for peace, love and compassion in my life and in my community. I share that with you because I believe that is how we can all take a stand against the fear and hate we see in the world. Be a stand for peace in your life. Share that with others. My prayers are with all of those involved in the events that occurred in Boston.