Nov 2005


An online mommy friend just had to put their dog down, and it made me very sad… especially when thinking of the day when our dog will join the Flying Spaghetti Monster in the sky. We have had our beloved Rio (yes, as in, “she dances on the sand”) for nearly 10 years, and she was 2 when we adopted her, and Chows usually live to around 12 years old. She is starting to have trouble getting up steps, getting into the truck, and just generally getting around.

Rio is one of the sweetest, most gentle dogs on the planet. She turned me around actually – because I never was a “dog person” before meeting her. Some people recoil when they see that we have a Chow, but don’t get me started on my “there are no bad Chows, just owners who don’t know how to raise them to be sociable” speech. (Insert Bryan rolling his eyes.) And Rio is pretty much the best example of Chow out there… In fact, our homeowners insurance agent went to bat for her and got an exception to their (stupid) policy that will not cover Chows.

What is not to love?

Nov 2005

Dripping sinus ooze

While visiting the allergist last week, he recommended that I so a different style of nasal irrigation. I have rhinitis from growing up in a house of smokers and subsequently moving to an urban area that has a brown cloud descend upon it every winter. Essentially my nose is just damn pissed off all the time. So, I rinse with saline often… to clear the gunkies and moisturize.

So, Doc says to try this rinse contraption. I do. It is awesome. (Side note… why is “original” in quotes?)

Except, when I bend over to do anything… dry my hair, pick something up, whatever… I now have a stream of saline coming out of my nose for a good hour after I rinse. No joke… A puddle about 3 inches wide suddenly appears on the floor, with shit that was up my nose only moments before. That part is n-a-s-t-y.

We’ll see how long this contraption stays in the house. I am imagining a little scale weighing the beautiful, clear, non-infamed nose on one side… versus perpetual nasal squirts on the other. What’s a girl to do?

Nov 2005


Tonight we babysat for friends who had a baby 6 weeks ago. Little Baby was so incredibly good – I don’t think he cried once. After watching Declan dance like a trained monkey for about an hour, he proceeded to fall asleep on Bryan for a good 2 hours. We also discovered that this was the first time Little Baby had been babysat, ever, so we felt pretty damn special.

Even as good as he was, neither Bryan or I felt absolutely any urge to have another baby (good thing, since that decision was made last summer with some snipping sheers at a urologist’s office).

Nov 2005

Recurring Nightmare

Even with the Lunesta, I still have vivid dreams. I am so thankful that I do not have regular night terrors anymore – my night terrors were on the level of: screaming my head off, punching Bryan, and being petrified of someone being in the room with me… I used to have night terrors several times a week and now they come more like once a month. I seriously need to write a letter of thanks to the Lunesta people. I will take a vivid, unsettling dream over a night terror any day.

Last night I had a dream that I have over and over again – that I am losing my house. That we cannot afford it and we have to sell/move/leave quickly. It gives me a mild panic attack to even think about it.

I have talked to my therapist about this dream, and we believe it comes from the night that we left my dad in the middle of the night. It had been a bad bad night, where my drunken father had ripped the phone off the wall, hit my mom so hard that it ripped her earrings out of her ear (I actually remember the earrings too… blue and gold ones she got in Germany… this is strange for me because I have a disassociate memory problem where I have blocked much of my childhood from my memory.) Anyway, after things settled down, my mom asked me what I wanted to do. I said leave. I meant for the night. She meant for forever.

We enticed my sister out of the living room where my dad was half passed out on the couch watching TV, snuck out the back door, pushed the car down the driveway, and went to my grandmothers. It was when we walked in the door and my mom told Oma, “that was the last time,” that I realized I had just ripped my family apart.

As an adult I do realize that it was not my decision really, and certainly it was not my fault… but I carried that guilt with me for a long long time. I think I also get really scared when thinking of having to change like that so quickly – the feeling of being uprooted has stayed with me.

Here is the cool thing about starting to get a handle on all these feelings I have from childhood. Even though the dream was vivid and unsettling… I have started to be able to turn my head around while in the middle of the dream. Last night I was able to remind myself it was all a dream, we weren’t going to lose our house, etc and calm myself down.