I don't WANT to complain, but, you know, I will

Well, gracious. There are so many things that have happened here in the past few months and weeks that I want to write about but we are so busy and I'm so tired that things are falling by the wayside at an alarming rate.

Currently, one of my worst symptoms by far is pregnancy induced carpal tunnel syndrome. Four of my fingers are always numb and sometimes the other four pop right in there and numb up as well. It's extremely irritating all of the time and downright painful other times. It's also becoming a serious problem at work and at home. Typing is uncomfortable and I make a lot of mistakes because I can't feel anything but the space key since that's the only one that my thumbs hit. I'm also now incapable of opening jars or bottles, lifting anything more than a couple of pounds or touching anything that may be an inappropriate temperature since I burned the crap out of my fingers earlier because I couldn't tell that what I was touching was hot until it started to burn my non-numb thumb.

Anyway, I don't want to complain because I'm so thrilled for Baby to get here but these last few weeks sure are hard and this is one of my worst symptoms yet since it really limits my activities severely. I don't want to do too much typing because it's so uncomfortable but I wanted to tell you about our Saturday night/Sunday morning adventure. I got the flu on Friday towards the end of my work day and felt pretty lousy but still made it to the vet's with Paul on Saturday morning to pick Smeagol up after her surgery. Her spaying went really well and she seems to be making an amazing recovery at this point. One of the things that bugs me is, as I recall, the same problem Waffles had after his neutering which is that she seems to be confused about where to go to the bathroom. When we got home I had Paul drop her on the bed with me, my intention was that the two of us would be sick in bed all day together. Within an hour though she decided that the best place to pee was ON THE BED! Fortunately we saw it happen so Paul was able to strip the sheet and mattress cover before the pee soaked through to the mattress. Unfortunately, that meant that I had to lie on the bare pill-y mattress for the next few hours ( we have only the one set of bedding, sadly ).

By the evening I was starting to get really ill. My fever was climbing steadily and I couldn't stop shaking all over. Paul was starting to look at me kind of nervously and he said that he had never seen me so sick so when I started to get intestinal type cramps too we decided that I should call my OB's nurse line. They told me to come in right away so we did and the whole thing was very surreal as they instructed as to go to OB triage which is exactly where we'll be going in a few more weeks. They did some tests and things and hooked me up to the fetal heart monitor and contraction monitor. After a while they came in and mentioned my contractions - I disputed that I was having any but they showed them to me on the little sheet of paper the machine spits out. Apparently I was having contractions that lasted for 40 seconds and were coming every four minutes. I seriously could not feel them, though. They asked me if I could be dehydrated which could cause contractions but I was sure that I was not since I had been drinking tons of water - but they tested me and since I hadn't eaten anything and my temperature was over 101 apparently I dehydrated the crap out of myself. I had to get two IV bags of electrolytes pumped into me and even then I think they wanted to do more but I was shaking with cold and fever and so utterly sick and uncomfortable that I pretty much begged them to let me go home and they did with instructions to rest and drink and rest and drink and repeat.

When we got home I sort of just stood there confused while Paul took care of everything and then I almost had a nervous breakdown when we got into the bedroom and remembered that the sheet and mattress cover were still in a heap on the chair and needed to be put on the bed. But, Paul did that too and we both fell into bed in a nearly catatonic state. 5 hours in the most uncomfortable bed/chair ever, scared, sick, worried about a dog just out of surgery and home alone will do that to you.

Man, I want to tell you about Mother's Day too but my left wrist won't even bend anymore since I've typed WAY too much here so that will have to wait for another day. I'm feeling lousy still but more like a really bad cold now and nothing worse. Can't type another letter...

Yes, pugs CAN look even more pathetic

Just to let you all know:
A) I am desperately flu-ridden and miserable
But much more important:
B) We just got Smeagol back from the vet after her spaying yesterday and although she was in a state of utter panic and trembling when we picked her up she seems to be doing really well. She ate a treat that I offered her just a minute ago and now she went to drink from her bowl (which Waffles wouldn't do after his surgery, he would only lick water from my fingers) so I'm very pleased.

She actually PLAYED...with a TOY...she hasn't done that in years...

Thanks to the people who emailed me to tell me they have been enjoying the dog posts and that they are praying and/or thinking of my SmeagolGirl. Quick update here from work...

Smeagol had her second lime-sulfur dip yesterday and it seemed to help a bit. After I picked her up I went to pet her and clumps of hair sloughed off in my hand so I got her brush and started brushing her and there was just no end. I could have brushed for half an hour and I don't think I would have diminished the amount of hair flying off of her. Literal fistfuls of hair covered the sidewalk all three times that I did it yesterday and I'm sure I could do the same thing today. She stood totally still while I did it though - I imagine it must have felt so good to get all that dead hair and smell and fungus off her all in one day.

Last night and today she has been a different dog, so energetic and playful and just happy. Unfortunately, tomorrow she goes to get spayed so I guess the energetic will be down the tubes for a while. I'm nervous about the operation but much more optimistic about her prospects after yesterday's successful procedure. Also, I discussed with the vet that the cost of some of these things was getting out of hand and he made some compromises with me to reduce costs so that shouldn't be as bad as I thought either.

I'll let you know how it goes tomorrow and wish her luck!

Well, THAT didn't work!

Well, crap. You know that whole very carefully orchestrated timeline that I just told you all about? The one that is going to keep our money pit of a dog alive and healthy and happy? Yeah, that did not work. We started Smeagol on her anti-fungal medicine on Thursday night, hiding her pills in favorite foods as we usually do, and it started off really well; her scratching was almost immediately diminished by at least 75%. By Saturday morning we were having a rough time getting her to take her pills and her tail uncurled (in pugs, or at least in our pug, that tail doesn't uncurl unless she is getting scratched in a really good spot or she is desperately depressed or sick) and we were getting a bit nervous. She refused to go outside, and she didn't seem to have the energy to jump on and off the bed anymore. Every part of her screamed 'SICK'. Still, we hesitated to stop the medicine because we assumed that, although the medicine was clearly hard on her, part of her misery was the fungus in the first place and the pills were necessary.

By Sunday night she wouldn't take her pill at all and it took fifteen minutes of Paul trying to shove the pill down her throat and then hold her mouth and nose closed until she managed to get it down. He was eventually successful but we were both sweating and near tears, Smeagol was freaking out and Waffles was trembling from head to toe. So, on Monday morning we did not give her her pill and we called the vet. The vet said, and I quote - 'STOP!' It turns out that her suffering was not at all normal and that these pills were really bad for her.

It's Wednesday morning now and she is feeling much, much better but much to our chagrin that means that the only other way to get rid of the fungus is to continue giving her those godawful sulfur-lime dips once a week for another 4-6 weeks. Not only does she stink for a full week or more after the dip (and the smell makes me feel kind of sick, honestly) but the dips also cost quite a bit more than the pills. Also, Girldog has to stay at the vet for about 5 hours for the procedure so that means that we have to get up a bit early so Paul can drop her off and then I have to leave work for half an hour in the afternoon to pick her up and bring her home to her UTTERLY MISERABLE brother dog who is so depressed by this whole business that he's barely functional whenever Smeagol is gone.

Whee!

(Happy babies chewing side by side)

I should also note, by way of provoking a little sympathy for myself (THAT'S a positive personality trait, huh?) that my renewal immigration paperwork is due next week, that I'm going to be unable to do anything this weekend because Smeagol is also getting spayed on Friday, that I'm still on weekly trips to the OB and that I'm 33 weeks today. I still haven't bought nearly everything we need for Baby Boy, the nursery is not ready, I haven't picked a pediatrician...and I'll stop with that before I wind up scanning my To-Do list so you all can see my stress level in bullet point form.

On the plus side, I have new buddies! They're Canada Geese! I've tried four times to get a good picture of them but have not been successful yet, but I will eventually and then I will be sure to post it. I'm the last person to leave work every day so when I leave I always drive around the complex to check for any problems that may need to be addressed before I leave. We have a gorgeous little creek that curves around the buildings and so lately I've taken to stopping the car for a few minutes and enjoying the view before I head home to the next level of stress for the day. A few weeks ago I noticed a few Canada geese swimming on the creek and I had a lovely moment watching them float by. Since then the rest of the geese have moved on but there are two left. Each day they are in a new spot when I drive around; sometimes way up by the road, sometimes hiding behind the shed at the very back of the property, sometimes just getting ready to head back into the water and they're getting used to me now. At first when I would pull up near them they would waddle as quickly as they could back to their creek, but now they just turn their backs to me and continue on with their foraging.

I love these geese with all of my heart and soul. I loved them first because they seemed so peaceful in the middle of my tense life. And of course I love them because they are a reminder of Canada - oh the deliriously wonderful sound sometime in the spring in Manitoba when you hear that telltale honking and you look up and see that 'V' of a flock of geese coming back home and you know that finally, finally the snow is going to melt and life can start again. The other day Paul got to see my geese for the first time and he pointed out the part that I love the very best and hadn't even thought of - there are only two and they are always together. Geese mate for life and I'm sure that these two are partners. I don't know why they chose to stay when all of the others are gone but I'm considering it my little gift. A moment of peace at then end of every day.

HeeHeeHeeHooooooooooo

Paul has been bugging me to update more often and, indeed, there are so terribly many things that I want to and should write about but the third trimester is KICKING MY ASS.



Every muscle in my body aches, I'm totally congested, my joints crack, my stomach and boobs itch, I have Restless Leg Syndrome like I didn't even know you could get it and last, but not least, my acid reflux is so bad (despite daily Prilosec and Tums) that I frequently wake up in the middle of the night thinking I'm going to die because I can't breathe because I've thrown up while I slept. Fun, no?! Moments ago, here at my desk at work, I went to staple six pages together and had to try twice because I didn't have enough strength or energy to use the stapler.



But, I'm 31 1/2 weeks and Baby Boy is doing very well according to today's checkup. My blood pressure has had some too-high moments so I'm going in every week from now on just to make sure that baby and I are okay but so far everything seems to be going as it should. Boy is healthy and very active and I don't even mind when he kicks the crap out of me since it means he's thriving in his little liquidy home.



We finished our childbirth classes last week and I am really glad that we went, despite how hard it was to spend our Saturdays getting up at 7:30 and then breathing and squatting and getting quizzed for 7 hours each time. I learned some, although I had quite a bit of theoretical knowledge already, but more important that what I learned new was the reassurance of seeing other women in the class in the same head space as me and seeing videos of regular women who managed to get through this. If they can all do it, well then, so can I. We even got a tour of the L&D floor in the hospital which was good too as it helped us to prepare what we need to bring and be aware of.



One of the most interesting parts of the class to me was learning about Lamaze and other breathing techniques. I always assumed that those things were sort of BS 'cause how could breathing lessen the worst pain of your life, right? But the woman who taught the class (an RN/doula/mother of 5) explained that what we are trying to do is stop the Fear/Tension/Pain cycle. In other words, when you don't know what to expect you get scared, when you are scared you get tense and when you get tense, things hurt worse. That made a tremendous amount of sense to me and made the whole class worth it. Knowing more of what to expect at home as I labor and then in the delivery room and even where to park at the hospital and where to go to fill out registration forms in advance all reduces tension for a compulsive planner and list maker like me and that's going to help through all aspects of this.



So, too tired to write about non-baby related things (for example I'm in the midst of immigration paperwork again - good timing! and Smeagol is sick again and going in for these stinky treatments on a regular basis and then getting spayed in two weeks...and oh, so much more) but at least I got a little post in here.

Decision Making Time

So, when Paul bought Smeagol more than six years ago he did not choose to have her spayed. He was, and when I joined the family, we both were, very vigilant about making sure that she didn't get pregnant but that was about all that we did about it. When Waffles joined the family, we got him neutered very early, as is recommended so that we wouldn't have a problem with the two of them (despite how stupid cute a pugrier would obviously be). Over the past two months or so though it has become clear that poor, old Smeagol pug is going to have to be spayed as well.


About two months ago I realized that her next heat cycle, although it is a bit sporadic, is due right around the time that the baby will be born. That would be...bad. She gets moody and needy and I have to keep a close eye on her and a diaper on her so that she won't bleed all over. Of course she pulls the diaper off so I have to do constant laundry as well...all of these things would NOT be ideal with a brand new baby in the house.


Recently, Smeagol developed another infection in her facial wrinkles and we took her to her best buddy, the vet. She gets this infection every few months and we have tried everything including daily wrinkle cleaning with a special prescription gel, a complete removal of red meat and red meat products from the diets of both dogs, no prepackaged dog treats etc. We have been told that her problem is possibly an allergy, possibly an immune system issue, possibly just that she is a pug etc. But as the vet was scraping her skin this time he told us that he had been reading up on the possibility that recurrent skin infections in unspayed female dogs are as a result of the fact that they are not spayed. He pointed out that hormones can wreak havoc on skin (at which point I informed him that he was preaching to the choir) and that perhaps spaying would help her a lot. Even if it doesn't help the constant, costly for us/painful for her infections, it would still dramatically help reduce her chance of some cancers and completely take away her risk for some other cancers.

So we were already pretty well committed to the idea that we would need to suck it up and get her spayed for her sake and for ours and then this damn false pregnancy started. We can't get her spayed for at least another month or so since at her last visit she had a steroid shot and she can't undergo anesthetic for eight weeks after that shot so we have some time to kill but this false pregnancy is a serious pain in the arse. I get the impression that she feels quite terrible and her lactation has not stopped. She looks significantly more pathetic than usual and I feel really terrible for her.




Basically all things are pointing to her needing to be spayed and as soon as possible but I'm really scared about it. She's middle aged for a dog, she's not very healthy and this is major surgery - like a total hysterectomy in women. I read earlier today that the more skin and fat the vet has to cut through the longer and more dangerous the surgery will be...she has lots of skin and fat!


Wish us luck making the right decision and coming up with the money if we do it etc. She's our little girl and we both just adore her. She has been with us both through so many bad times and she has been with Paul since she could fit in the palm of his hand and slept under his chin at night. But...the right decision is to spay her, right?

25 Weeks and a Lactating Pug

Yurgh, that last post and its subsequent comments sort of took the wind out of my blog posting sails. I've chosen not to comment back though except for to say one thing: I'm aware that lots of things piss me off and I have always been up front about that. Since I'm now pregnant and all full of hormones its even worse and I'll probably wind up writing about it more so if that bugs you you should probably not bother reading this blog.

ANYWAY, life is truckin' along over here. Paul and I are both working as much as we can in order to get bills paid and buy stuff for our impending kid so we tend to be pretty busy and somewhat grumpy. We're used to getting lots of time together and not getting as much is a bit taxing; but of course worthwhile. We get very little time to relax these days so I'm thinking for our anniversary at the end of the month we might both take a 'mental health day' and go have a nice little date or something like that.

The baby's room is coming along in leaps and bounds all of a sudden. I was so overwhelmed by the massive quantity of stuff that this child is going to need that I wasn't even sure where to start so I started with a list...and then wondered how I could ever possibly afford to get all of the stuff. But, two weeks ago Paul's parents came for a visit and they brought us some fantastic hand-me-downs; a swing type thing, a bouncy seat, a bassinet and a huge box of clothes. Then they told us that they wanted to buy us the crib and last week we found a coupon for 15% of cribs at Babies R Us so we went and got a gorgeous 'lifetime crib' for a decent price this weekend (Paul even set it up this weekend, it is GORGEOUS). When I mentioned to my Mom about these great coupons that we found she said that they had wanted to buy us the car seat as our 'baby warming' gift so we used another 15% coupon and got the car seat. It is one of those cool ones that is a combination stroller/car seat so you can take the car seat out and plop it into the stroller and then when the child is bigger it is just a normal stroller for them to sit in - two birds with one stone! We also used some other coupons to buy a bunch of miscellaneous stuff and since a few people had asked us about it we registered at Babies R Us too (which was rather fun let me tell you and they have a neat combo online/in store system that made it really easy).

So, we're probably about halfway there, stuff-wise which is pretty good. All of my baby books and websites say that you should ideally try to have the nursery ready 6-8 weeks before the expected due date since you never know when the baby will actually arrive and also because you may be too tired and off-balance to work on it towards the 40th week. But, since my previous sub-chorionic hemorrhage makes me a good (bad?) candidate for premature labor I'm hoping to get the room pretty much done by 30 weeks - which is scarily only 5 weeks and 2 days away.

Everything else is going well with the pregnancy too. We had the one hour glucose test today which involved drinking something nasty and then trying not to throw it up for an hour. Hopefully I will pass the test because if I don't I have to go do the whole thing again for four hours. I feel mostly okay, very tired and frankly somewhat bitchy since I get very, very little sleep because of SUCH sore hips but other than that and the heartburn that regularly makes me throw up I'm pretty much okay. Baby's heartbeat and my measurements and blood pressure were all good today and my doctor said that everything was going really well. I've only gained two pounds so far which means that even if I gain a pound per week for the rest of the pregnancy I'll still be on target which makes me very pleased.

Oh, and we may have figured out all of Smeagol's FREAKISH behavior over the past few weeks - I think she has a false pregnancy. The poor girl is even lactating! I think my hormones have caused her to believe that she is pregnant which is just so weird I can't express it. And hey, if you want to feel sorry for someone feel sorry for Paul who is, in essence, living with two pregnant bitches. God bless him.

Here's A Post!

Whoosh, I am tuckered out! Job hunting is hard work, and kind of demoralizing when nobody calls :p

The interview with the woman from Paulie's work went really well and I was pretty convinced that I had the job. Everybody at Paul's office told me I was a shoe-in. Stupidly, I kind of stopped looking for like a week and a half I was so sure. And then, I didn't get the job. The lovely woman who interviewed me felt SO BADLY! But, unfortunately, the company really doesn't like to hire from outside. They hire from outside generally only on the lowest level and then promote from within - this is why it was so difficult for Paul to get a job there. The interviewer was sure that she could convince her boss to let her hire me as I was qualified and she was desperate but in the end the company pretty much put a complete moratorium on hiring from outside the company. I was disappointed.

But, I've applied for many other things and eventually something has to work out, right? RIGHT?! I'm getting a bit panicky about it...no one is even calling! Today I applied for one job but spent much of the rest of the day revamping my resume. I try to do that every couple of weeks or so, just changing little things here and there since you never know what will catch a potential employer's eye.

We've been c-r-a-z-y busy lately for some reason. Looking for work for me and doctor's appointments and medicating Smeagol's latest health problem and spring cleaning...it seems I never sit down. Which is fine, I'm not complaining! Lord knows must people have a lot more to do than I do. I had my treadmill test last week and it went quite well. It wasn't too hard and didn't take too long and the RN who was with me was really nice. The doctor will send the results to my doctor ( I go in a week from today for that ) but in the meantime he said he saw no scary heart issues. My blood pressure was stupid high though so I'll probably have to get that checked out even though it was near perfect at my last doctor's appointment.

Did I mention that I got the results of my my blood tests? I was sure that I did, but I can't find it on here now so maybe I didn't. *PROUD* My total cholesterol, HDL, LDL, triglycerides, kidney function, thyroid level etc. was all good. I wonder how it would have been a year ago before I started, well, changing my health entirely. I wish I knew. I'm really shocked that after 3 and a half decades of eating crap and 1 and a half decades of being fat all of these levels are okay. Amazing, I think. The only problem that the initial blood tests turned up is an abnormal liver profile. I go back next week to discuss this and the results of the treadmill test and continue trying to figure out what the hell is wrong with me. I'm a bit scared of what the abnormal liver numbers could mean but I guess we will see.

It is officially summer here in East Tennessee. There was no spring. We have three wasp nests on our back porch (tomorrow we go at them), tick heaven in the front lawn (the owner of the property apparently does not believe in mowing!) and dogwoods blooming everywhere. Its all quite lovely, and my allergies aren't even too too bad yet. Some sinus headaches and LOTS OF ITCHING, but it could be way worse. Its really pretty out here, when are you all going to come and visit?

Sleepy Conversations with Paul

It is 5:50 AM and I am still not sleeping. I did sleep briefly, but then Paul woke me up to tell me that I was "The Littlest Whimperer" while I slept. He ACTED like he was concerned about me and my sleep whimpering but I believe that he was actually saying "STOP WHIMPERING DAMMIT".

A few minutes ago he got up to take a sleepy middle of the night trip to the bathroom and when he came back he said "Smeagol is a laser turkey". "What?", I inquired. He gave me a withering look as if to say "DUH" and rolled over while saying "Smeagol is a TURKEY who has LASERS". I took this as a sign that it was time to give up on sleep and go downstairs and get a Moon Pie. You should try a Moon Pie. Moon Pies are so good that they force you to eat them at 5:30 in the morning when you should be sleeping and not be eating things that have corn, milk AND chocolate in them when you are allergic to those very things.

So, yeah, Smeagol was invited to a costume party for dogs next month. A week or two ago, we were doing some errands and Paul told me that he would be right back. He came back a few minutes later with a costume for Smeagol. I was so utterly touched that he had thought of us and done this to make me happy. So sweet :)

Unfortunately, although this wizard costume was a size 'small' and labelled as a good size for pugs, she is, erm, a large pug, and it didn't fit. We didn't realize this at first though. As we attempted to put it on her, we just thought that she was squirmy. But when she got away, we realized that she couldn't actually walk. This is her in full panic mode.

Now then, today we went and exchanged the costume for a size 'medium', suitable for a cocker spaniel. We liked the wizard costume, but simply couldn't resist the pig, insert rude comments here. (We also could barely resist the doggy backpacks, but managed) She seems to like this one somewhat better, as it fits and also doesn't have leg holes. She was not thrilled about the head on top of her head, though. These costumes, by the way, are very cheap and SO worth the pleasure we got out of them. I'm willing to forgo another pleasure in order to get the laughter we got from this :)

We tried to get one more picture, but the best we could do is catch her running away. Her little curly pug tail interferes with the little curly pig tail which appears to be in a fairly wrong spot there. But, come on! You know you love her!

Eep!

Sorry no posts! We have had a rather busy couple of days for no particular reason and it's always difficult to post on Paul's day off.

One of the reasons that we've been so busy is because of the freakin dog. We had to take her to the vet for an owie beside her eye and other things. She has an ulcer in her eye, an ear infection and a bacterial infection. I swear that I take so much time every day to clean her and still she gets owies and infections so often. Its very frustrating. Not to mention the fact that we had to pay $215 for her visit. There goes any chance I had for a birthday celebration of any kind. Paul said "Happy Birthday, your dog is well!". And he's right, that is the more important thing, but it still makes me a bit sad. I know that's dumb since I'm turning 34, for heavens sake, its not like birthdays should matter anymore...but they kinda do. Anyway, enough with the digressing, so now on top of the TEN drops I have to put in my eyes everyday, I have to put drops in her eyes twice a day and drops in her ears twice a day and two different pills twice a day. She got all sorts of things done at the vet including two shots, an ear flush and an eye stain so when we finally got home she was very confused and upset. She placed herself in between Paul's legs and didn't want to move. When she did move, it was to run under the bed ( where she only goes when she is very upset). I got her out but an hour or two later she was back under. This time I used a flashlight to see what the problem was and discovered that she had thrown up. Twice. A LOT. It was horrifying. I had to move the king size bed and the nightstand and a whole bunch of other crap, then lie down on the floor and try to scoop it all up, then move everything back. Of course, I stepped in it once. Bah! However, she will now start to get better and that is the most important thing.

All in all, though, we had a good couple of days and got some good news, which I will write about later today (Friday).

I am also pleased with my renaissance woman-ness: this week I baked a cake and a batch of cookies, began a scrapbook for my mother, made a new and improved family budget and caulked a tub and sink. Me = Talented.

Let me leave you with a transcript of the following exchange:

(while watching PeeWee's Playhouse)

Me - Why doesn't any of them point out that at their sleepover there is a giant cow in a tu-tu?!

Him - Well, probably because one of their rank is a giant bloodshot eyeball.

Me - Oh yeah, good point.

Tick Tick Tick

Well, Pauly should be home within 8 hours, thank God. It wasn't as bad as anticipated, being alone that is, but the biggest problem was not being able to sleep. Since I have been down in Georgia my insomnia has gotten dramatically better. I still don't sleep like a normal person, but probably 50% better than I used to. Without Paul though, I've been all tense and just can't sleep.

For some reason when I'm alone, here or anywhere, I prefer to sleep on the couch in front of the tv, rather than in the bedroom. So I tucked myself up there, but I was a bit scared and nervous so sleep wouldn't come. Smeagol, however, didn't have that problem. She's been confused all weekend, waiting for her dad, so she decided that the best place to sleep would be on my pillow. 3 inches from your face is a bad place to have a snoring pug when you are trying to sleep. I would start to drift off and then 'HOOOOONNNKKK" would wake me right up. When I finally kicked her away she still wouldn't leave the couch so then settled between my thighs, which severely limits my ability to move any part of my body on the small couch.

That was night one, night two has not yet happened because I have the MOST RESTLESS LEGS EVER! RLS runs in my family like crazy and last night was a prime time for me to get it cause it was stormy and Smeagol was inhibiting my movement. The restlessness extended all the way up into my hips so I would flip myself over like a flapjack every 2 minutes. It sucks. I'm so sleepy. Plus, I have this stupid low grade nervousness all the time when Paul isn't here. So general suckitude in the sleep department, but tonight I should be able to zonk right out.

I can hardly wait to talk to a person again in a few hours!

Smeagol's New Friend

Stevo and Bones


Bones sleeps, exhausted from Smeagol's playing ability.


Bones gnaws a Beggin' Strip.

Our friends Amy and Stevo dropped by yesterday. Due to all sorts of nonsense, we hadn't seen them in a while, but they dropped by to show us the new addition to their family. They bought a puglet!!! He is 7 weeks old and his name is Bones. They always loved Smeagol so much that they decided they wanted one of their own. He and Smeagol were scared of each other at first, they whined and did not have a good time. But eventually they became best buds. Smeagol would stand over him to protect him and they would run around and chase each other and have a grand old time. We only had to separate them a few times because Bones is only so recently weaned that he began to try to nurse from Smeagol :p She seemed to enjoy it, but we figured that it wasn't a good precedent to set. If all goes well, we may even breed to two of them together when Bones is old enough. We could earn a lot of money that way and wouldn't have to lay out a stud fee. Anyway! Here are some pictures! Dammit...I can't make the pictures go down here, instead they want to live on top...so deal with it :) (If anyone wants to teach me how to move these pictures around and make them line up properly and stuff that would be great, I can't figure it out)

Veteranarian's Day

Yesterday was vet day for Smeagol. Money has been so tight for so long that she was like 4 months overdue on all her shots and stuff. She was also scratching her ears a ton and scooting along the floor (nothing makes me laugh harder than to watch her scoot, but I know that it means she's very uncomfortable). And she also seemed very sad. Normally she only hides under the bed when we are fighting (I know) but lately she runs under the bed at any provocation.

So, we decided that Paul's income tax refund couldn't be put to better use than to make sure The Baby was okay. Paul's usual vet is far away so we decided to see someone new who is just a few blocks away. He was a very nice old German man. First, they put Smudge on the table and weighed her. She was 18.5 pounds, which the doctor said was very appropriate for her build. (YAY ME!!! I put her on a diet about 2 months ago and she lost about 2 pounds and seems ( before these problems) much happier. I even had to tighten her collar a notch. I can't put myself on a diet, but I can diet a pug like a ninja!)

He said her lungs and heart sounded good. No problems with her knees, which is common for pugs. The problem was that her ears and muzzle were 'chronically, badly infected'. I could barely stop myself from crying, I felt SO guilty. Everything else was okay though, except that she needed her yearly booster shots. The vet said that she couldn't get antibiotics for her infections and shots on the same day, so we chose to take care of her ears. They told us to leave for a bit and when we came back they had flushed out her ears and trimmed some of her hair outside her ears so they could clean up all the infection. She smells so good now! Then they gave her an antibiotic shot and gave us pills and medicine to give her for a while. They also tested her for heartworm and she was negative :)

Poor girl was scared the rest of the day. She sat in my lap with her paws on my chest looking into my eyes with great upsettedness all evening. But before bed we gave her her heartworm preventative chewie, which she loved; and then her ear drops which she seemed to enjoy; and then I tried to feed her her pill. I couldn't do it and Paul couldn't either, so Paul dipped the capsule in sour cream and that did it!

This morning I ear-dropped her and pilled her and she took em both fine. Oh, and the vet also 'expressed her anal gland' which I had never watched before. Um, ew, would cover that section of the visit. So, the baby is okay, thank God. I have to learn how to clean her face and ears better, and she needs to take these pills and drops for 2 weeks and then go back and get checked and get like 4 booster shots. Its costing a fortune, but she is (pathetically) like our baby and really, no cost is too much to make sure that she is happy and comfortable.

On another topic, Paul should be eligible for health benefits on April 1, so I'm filling out his forms right now. That would help us a lot.

On yet another topic! A year or two ago, I was hanging out with Andra, Matt, Chris and Angie and I, for whatever reason, said something about 'doctor, lawyer, Indian chief'. They were horrified and accused me (basically jokingly) of being a rascist. I kept whining at them that it was just an expression, but they had never heard of it. BUT! Yesterday, I came across a reference to that. "Rich man, poor man, beggar man, thief, doctor, lawyer, Indian chief". So, I looked it up and it was originally a childs rhyme, often used for skipping. Since then, it has become an expression that people use to indicate that something is, sort of, good for anyone. As in 'who do you hire at your firm?' "Oh anyone, doctor, lawyer, Indian chief"

SO, in other words, not particularly politically correct, but a perfectly cromulent expression. Nerts to you!

Overheard At Target

"Excuse me, miss, do you have any gloves?"

"Uh, like, what kind of gloves?"

"H-hand gloves?

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Also, I forgot several of the names that we call Smeagol;

Smagellan

The Pupulon Series, including Pupulon 7, Pupulon 12, Pupulon 342 and Pupulon 7 of 9

The Baby (Always capitalized and always with the 'the', as in, "Come here, The Baby!" and "Stop barking, The Baby!"

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Also, check out this site http://songtapper.com/s/tappingmain.bin

You tap in the rythym of a song and as much as 20% of the time it tells you what song you just tapped in!

Softy McBarkBark Hates Harvey Fierstein

Paul and I have a tendency to call Smeagol anything that sort of just comes out of our mouths. This is how we began calling her Smooch Potato, Tiny Dancer, Hamhead, Mashed Potatoes, Idiot Girl etc. The other day after I gave her a bath, Paul was petting her and came up with Softy McBarkBark, which after 3 or 4 days hasn't ceased making me laugh yet. Yesterday I was re-re-re-re-rewatching Independence Day and found that Smeagol was growling at the TV every so often. Eventually I discovered that every time Harvey Fierstein spoke Smeagol became very agitated. And that is how I came to utter the title of this entry "Softy McBarkBark hates Harvey Fierstein".

Paul has been going crazy with the funny lines lately. Most of them I can't remember by the time I get to the computer, or they wouldn't translate in text, or they require a lot of back story. But, here are a few that I remember from the last few days.
**********Editors note - I guess maybe Paul is obsessed with poop, cause these are sort of poopcentric. I never, EVER thought I would fall in love with someone who likes to talk about poop and other bodily outputs. At first I cringed a lot, now I mostly ignore. I surely hope that I don't eventually participate in these discussions...**********

(after dropping his fork on the ground) "Aw nuts, my fork went to heck!" (That one caused me to actually fall to the ground laughing.

(I walk into the bathroom and see him waving at the toilet) "Bye poop!! It was nice having you in me!"

(In bed last night as I'm almost asleep, I hear a soft voice that I'm not sure if I'm understanding correctly)
"Good night food, good night poo that used to be food, goodni-"
"What are you doing?"
(sheepishly) "Saying goodnight to all the things that live in me."
"Okay. Do you say goodnight to like your kidneys and stuff too?"
"Oh sure, I wouldn't leave any organs out, they need to know that they are all special"

"She's Such a Sensitive Girl"

It's a good thing that I am not generally terribly shy, cause as the mama of a pug you get asked a lot of questions. When we go for our walks we get all sorts of reactions, but -everybody- stops to say hello. They can't help it. Smeagol calls to them with her adorable ugliness. Yesterday was a particularly enjoyable walk day. On our first walk we met a young man and his year and a half old twins. They were playing catch but kept forgetting to catch the ball as they saw us walk by. Finally, I asked the boys if they would like to pet her. They nodded with big eyes and their dad looked nervous and said 'boys, gently, very gently'. So, I brought Smeag over and at first the boys were too scared. But I held the little girl close and showed them how to pet her. They both tentatively reached out and sort of just tapped her head with their hands. She didn't care though, anyone touching her is good. Eventually she fell over and showed them her belly so they could touch there. The twins giggled and giggled and I told them 'see, she loves it!' After that one of the the boys (not very good talkers yet at 18 months) kept going 'slovesid' absolutely gleefully. After a few minutes I had to pick Smeag up and carry her away cause she loved the little boys so much. As I walked away I still heard the one boy going 'slovesid!!!!'.

Then on our second walk we met a sweet older man with a sheltie. It was an exciting day for Smeag cause we thought we had pretty much met all the kids and dogs in the complex, but these were some new friends. The sheltie was twice as big as Smeagol, but SO scared of her. It was hilarious :) The sheltie's name was Sebastian and Sebastion's dad told us that there was a pug rescue here in Georgia (when I mentioned that we wanted another puggie). We managed to tear Sebastian and Smeagol apart after about 15 minutes and just now I remembered about the pug rescue so I started looking online.

Poopily, even rescued pugs cost between $125 and $250 to adopt, which we do not have and won't for a long time :( But, I greedily looked anyway. After a while I selected a couple of favourites but then discovered that one of my faves had passed away last week. Her bio had been changed to 'Six has passed away, she will no longer suffer, feel confused or hurt'. So, I'm sobbing away as I read this, feeling so sorry for that poor little girl. Then as I'm still wiping the tears, I found another site with non purebred small dogs that are available. The link automatically took me to a page that I realized later was labelled 'last chance dogs'. Each dog on that page said 'this dog will no longer be available for adoption after (date)'. I'm thinking 'that's an odd way to phrase that', until I realized that that meant that they are going to PUT THEM TO SLEEP IF I DON"T TAKE THEM! So now my little heart is breaking and I want to take them all home. Most of these organizations need foster moms and dads to take care of rescued dogs til they get adopted. But I think Smeagol and I would both get so attached that we would either wind up adopting every one or spending a week being depressed after they were adopted or, heaven forbid, put down.

I keep thinking of the story my mom tells of how when I was 4 ish, we had a mouse in the house (we had lots due to living on a farm). I HATED the mouse and shrieked every time I saw or heard it. Mom and Dad put up traps and one day Mom and I heard the trap snap. We went to look and the mouse was dead. Mom cheered and asked if i wasn't glad that the mouse was finally gone. But when she looked over at me, she said I plopped down onto the floor and bawled about the poor mouse and did it hurt him to die and would he go to heaven and could we pray for the little mousie? My mom said she knew right then that it was going to be a 'hard life' for me. I remember listening at the top of the stairs when my parents had company and always knowing that they were talking about me when I heard the phrase 'she's such a sensitive girl'. Good or bad, I have just spent the last half hour wiping tears away for dogs that I have never met that -might- be put to sleep.

Pathetic

I just got all misty cause I was eating a sandwich and usually Smeagol eats my crusts :(