Short Dog Problems

Last fall, we got ourselves a new family member in the form of a corgi puppy whom we named Loki because we knew he would be full of mischief. We were not mistaken. Despite his diminutive size, he can cause a lot of mayhem and he can do it quickly because, despite their short legs and stocky appearance, corgis can run 25 miles per hour. Our little cutie tears through our house, leaping for and pulling down towels from racks, grabbing toilet paper and dragging it behind him through the house in one large strip, and then evading us by sliding under furniture to hide. It’s simultaneously annoying as hell and hysterical. And he’s so damn cute that, despite his ability to upend our entire house in five minutes, we continue to let him live here.

We’ve struggled with what to do with him in the car. He typically begins any car ride secured in a kennel for safety, but that is zero fun for our little guy and so he whines and barks because he is short, trapped, and unable to see what he’s missing. As you can imagine, our car trips with him are not much fun because we are faced with a choice: keep him safe and have him bark the entire ride or take him out of the kennel so he is quiet but not safe. Car rides are awesome for bigger dogs because they can see out windows and even stick their heads out them. One safety harness and a car ride is a joy for a taller dog. Loki’s field of vision allows him to see the black upholstery in my car and that’s about it.

So, I went on a hunt for a way to secure him while allowing him to enjoy a view that isn’t achieved through using me as his step stool and I found this booster seat on Amazon.

Plenty of room for him to relax if he ever chooses to nap

I had to find one that holds medium-size dogs because most car boosters are made for dogs under 15 pounds. Loki, while short, is a sturdy 22 pounds right now at 7 months. He has your basic bodybuilder physique, broad and strong up top with a smaller bottom half, similar to a bulldog. Despite his weight-to-height ratio, he has a trim, indented waist and an easily discernible rib cage. We call him a chonky boi, but he isn’t. He’s a rock. In fact, we should have named him Dwayne Johnson so we could legitimately call him The Rock Junior.

I installed the car seat this morning. It took a little finagling to feed the seat belt though the bottom section of the cushion, but I finally got it in place. Then I picked up our little brick house and put him in the seat and attached his front-clip harness to the tether in the seat. So far, so good. He seemed a little confused but also curious about it all. He tried to figure out if he could get out of the seat and realized the short leash he was on would not allow it. Still, he stood up for the first couple blocks as we tooled through the neighborhood before finally realizing he could see just fine if he sat and relaxed a bit. Our first outing was a quick, 5-minute cruise to acclimate him to the idea of the seat. He did pretty well. Later I plan to take him on a longer ride to the post office. One step at a time.

When we decided to get a corgi, I have to admit it never occurred to me that he would have short dog problems. I never thought I would have to buy dog stairs so he could get on our bed if he wanted. It never occurred to me he might have issues getting down the back stairs to the yard from our deck either. It never crossed my mind that I would be lying on the living room floor trying to drag his heart-shaped butt out from under our sofas. I never thought I would be toweling off his belly every single time we took a walk because his low clearance means he is constantly soaked underneath from snow or wet grass or muddy fields. I also never realized how fast he would be able to grab something that fell on the floor because he is so close to it. It’s safe to say that a doggy booster seat never entered my consciousness either. All of these things should have been clear to me because, while Loki has short dog problems, I have short girl problems. I regularly climb onto our countertops to reach things on upper shelves in our cupboards. Unaltered pants are always too long on me. And my corgi is the only immediate family member I can look down on. Honestly, about the only place I fit just right is an airplane lavatory. Those tiny closets work perfectly well for me.

Still, we’re figuring these things out together and making necessary adjustments. We should be all set when we get our next fur-dispensing, corgi bundle of joy someday in the not-too-distant future.

Posted on 18/02/2022 by Me

A Table With An Extra Leaf

We dropped Thing One at the airport again this morning for his flight back to Walla Walla. He has been in college a year now and, overall, these comings and goings have become easier for me. Not because I don’t miss him but because he has proven himself more than up to the task and I have seen that life without him after 20 years with him is okay. I am okay. My time as Mom isn’t over but the role has shifted. Joe still needs me often enough, but he’s also on his own a lot more. So we dropped him at the curb with his bags and drove off without incident. No tears. Everything was copacetic.

Everything was fine when we got home too. I was feeling pretty proud of myself. It was the easiest drop off yet. Yay, me! I got to work on life around the house, laundry, vacuuming. Then I got to the kitchen table. I removed the placements, wiped it off, and went to take the fifth chair away. That is when I got sad and teary eyed. I put the fifth chair back at the dining table where it lives and then set about taking the extra leaf out of the kitchen table and returning it to its usual 4-person size. I stood there for a minute overwhelmed over the loss of that extra seat.

A little later after I thought I had moved on again and pulled myself together, I put on a hoodie Joe left behind for me. It smelled like him. I got teary eyed again.

Letting go is a process, one I have to keep reminding myself about over and over. I know I will never stop missing Joe or being sad when he leaves, but it will become part of our new relationship contract. I told him today that I was a little sad about the table. And then I told him that it is all okay because I love him with my whole heart and I am happy that he is off pursuing his own life, but I will always miss him when he leaves. Then I told him that someday he will miss me when I leave and that is life. He told me we’d best not talk about that ever again.

Relationships aren’t easy, but they are worthwhile. And I will always have a table with an extra leaf for those times when the important people pop back into my life. Until then, there’s this little guy who is here for me.

The son I got to replace the son who sent to college. I will have to get another when Thing Two goes to college. And I am really glad I didn’t have more children because I can only handle two dogs.

Posted on 16/01/202216/01/2022 by Me 4

True Love Is Not Blind Despite What They Say

Love is blind. I know we have all heard that platitude a million times, but for some reason today it didn’t sit right with me when I heard it in a song. This, I assume, is because I am growing as a person and seeing life through a different lens. I used to think that phrase meant that when you love someone you are blind to their faults. Maybe that part is true when you are first falling for someone in a romantic way, but I don’t think it’s true once you are fully committed to a person or in relationships that are not romantic in nature, like with siblings or children or parents. I love my children more than anything and would give my life for theirs in a heartbeat, but I’m not blind to who they are, all of them, the good and the bad traits (some of which definitely came to them through me). And I think they absolutely could tell you what the positives and negatives are about me.

I am no expert on love, having come to know it only in the last half of my life thus far. As I was growing up, I understood love on an intellectual level. I had no real concept of it because I had experienced no real example of it. I assumed my parents loved me because they would get angry if I came home late. But if love was indeed blind, then my parents didn’t love me because they definitely knew my shortcomings and pointed them out regularly. So love confounded me. How did it work?

Here is what I have learned about love since having my own children. Love is not blind, and it shouldn’t be. Love is knowing someone intimately and wanting the best for them always, even when they are confused about their gender identity or in jail because they got a DUI or lost the thousand dollars they got from you for Christmas. If you aren’t able to recognize someone’s struggles, weaknesses, and issues, how can you be there for them, to support and encourage them, to take care of them when they are at their worst? Love isn’t about being blind to who someone is or what they do. It’s about being there for them in spite of the things about them or that they do to make you crazy, stressed, worried, angry, or frustrated.

Love is all seeing and ever present. It exists in the hard work of being present for someone else no matter what. It’s you seeing someone else in all their humanity and appreciating them both for it and in spite of it. It’s in the sacrifices you make for another person. It’s in the suffering you take on to ease their pain. Love is about showing up. It’s a lot harder to show up if you can’t see.

Posted on 13/01/2022 by Me

Should I Stay Or Should I Go Now?

If you were raised by dysfunctional parents, you have a few choices when it comes to raising a family. Many children from dysfunctional families decide not to have children of their own because they feel they could not be good parents because they had no good role models. Some adult children from dysfunctional families decide to have children of their own because they figure they learned early how not to parent and know they will work hard to do better for their kids. Some people from dysfunctional families are so broken themselves that they don’t realize they are broken. These are the dangerous ones. These are the ones who have children and treat them the way they were treated because they are incapable of doing better. They are the ones who keep the cycle of abuse rolling.

The most difficult part about being a child of the third type is that those parents rarely change. They don’t often wake up. They aren’t capable of seeing their offspring as anything other than an extension of themselves, even after they are grown. They talk to their grown children as if they are still children, and if those adult children push back and assert their right to live their own chosen path, their parents chide, blame, belittle, boss, and gaslight to try to remain in control. An adult child of parents like this may acquiesce and continue to remain under their parent’s control or they may break contact to become free. Neither option is optimal because staying in an abusive relationship hinders personal growth and cutting ties can alienate the adult child from other family members, leaving them feeling orphaned and alone. An adult who has healed from childhood abuse may be able to find a middle ground, to find a way to stay in contact with their parent while maintaining their independence and sanity, but only if they are sufficiently healed. If they have not, they continue to leave themselves open to derision and abuse.

I have spent years trying to get right enough with myself to make my own choice about how to interact with my parents. I have for years now felt in my heart the only way I will be able to heal and become the best version of myself is to leave these relationships and negative patterns in the past. It’s difficult to do because if you walk away from aging parents, society will chastise you. Even the best intentioned of friends will try to convince you to stay because children owe it to their parents to take care of them. I just don’t think I can walk that road. There are worse childhoods than the one I had. This is true. But just because your childhood didn’t find you locked in a room, starving, and completely neglected doesn’t mean you weren’t left permanently scarred.

The question is will you allow yourself the space to heal those scars or will you remain tethered to your past, unable to move forward? I think we’re getting close to an answer.

Posted on 20/12/2021 by Me 1

Be Careful What You Ask Your Mom

My son sent me a photo yesterday of him and his new(ish) girlfriend. Six hours after he sent the photo, I asked him what color his girlfriend’s eyes are because it was hard to tell from the photo. He answered and that was the end of that. Or so I thought. Today, nineteen hours after I asked what color her eyes are and eighteen hours after he told me they were hazel, he sends me a random text inquiring why I want to know. He had no problem answering the question for me yesterday, so why was he suddenly curious about the question today? It felt like a trap somehow, although I didn’t know why. I decided to deflect thusly:

When I was a kid, my mom had a saying that went, “Ask a stupid question, get a stupid answer.” Today seemed like an apt time to employ that logic. I mean, why did he think I asked? He has a new girlfriend. Am I not allowed to be curious about her? Geesh.

Because he’s such a good sport, Joe’s response was, “Yooooooo. That’s a solid reason.” Damn skippy, it is, junior.

I’m not really going to harvest her eyeballs for my pagan rituals. It’s a small college and word would get around. Besides, Joe really likes her and she seems to like him too. So, I guess I will save my eyeball harvesting ritual for a girlfriend I don’t like.

Posted on 13/12/2021 by Me 2

Life Isn’t Chess: You Can’t Go Back, So Just Go Forward

In April of 2006, just before our sons turned 4 and 6, we traveled to Captiva Island, Florida, to give them a taste of beach life. Because we are a landlocked, mile high family, we waited to make the long trip to a beautiful island until we were certain the boys would enjoy the experience (and we wouldn’t lose it on a four-hour flight with them). While we were there, we shuffled between the resort pool and the shell-strewn beach. The boys loved racing from the surf and building sand castles. We visited the famous Bubble Room for one dinner, and another night we ate ice cream for dinner and chased it with salt water taffy and all-day suckers. We saw a couple manatees near the boat docks. We took a sunset cruise to look for dolphins. And at the end of the trip, my husband took an epic photo of the boys and I, which became one of my all-time favorites.

During the lockdowns and the time spent at home during 2020, I spent my some of my time dreaming of returning to Captiva with the boys. We were desperate for a beach trip after being stuck in our landlocked state for so long. I booked a 3-bedroom condo at the same resort we visited last time. We were in a different part of the resort this time around, closer to public restaurants and to the Starbucks just outside the resort entrance, but the rental was bigger and afforded the boys their own rooms. We spent a lot of time at the beach, but didn’t visit the pools because the boys were a bit too big for the kiddie waterslide now. Instead, we did some kayaking through mangroves on nearby Sanibel Island. We ate at the Bubble Room again and loved it. We wanted to repeat our ice cream dinner, but didn’t have the right resort card to gain access, which was a total bummer. Still, we discovered another restaurant that we loved so much we ate there twice. We saw more manatees this time than last time, including a momma and her baby off the docks outside our condo and another one that swam by us while we were in the surf in the Gulf. And on one clear evening, we went back to the spot where we took my favorite photo and attempted to recreate it as best we could. The palm trees were bigger, the boys were bigger, but the beauty of the moment was the same.

When you have young kids, people love to tell you that you should cherish those moments because they go by so fast. They aren’t wrong. They fly by like they’re on a Japanese bullet train. But parenting is, from day one, a growth enterprise. There is no going backwards, as it’s meant to be a forward endeavor. So don’t let anyone convince you that watching your kids grow, change, and eventually move on into their own lives is somehow a negative, something to be depressed about. It’s the greatest gift a parent can receive. If you don’t believe me, ask a parent who has lost a child. As memorable as our trip was in 2006, it was better in 2021. I’m grateful we’ve made it this far together, and no matter what happens from here I will cherish ALL the memories, not just the ones from when the boys were small.

Posted on 28/11/2021 by Me 1

It’s Freshman Year Again

Since Joe went off and started college in January, I’ve worked very hard to figure out how not to miss him. I understand this is a process. When a child rightfully extricates himself from your home to pursue his own life, there’s going to be some sadness. I was pretty depressed for about a month back in January and February when we left him in Washington. There are some ups and downs that first semester at college, and it’s hard to be away from your child when you want to be there to hug them and let them know they’ve got this. But he and I both held it together and made it until mid-May when he came home for the summer. It was a little less sad dropping him back at school in late August because I knew he was going back to friends and had reason to believe he was getting the hang of the whole college life thing. We saw him for four days in October when he came home to see us and meet the new puppy. We had a great time during his visit and when he left, I was actually not sad at all. It felt like progress.

Thing One at home and being derpy…some things never change

Today he came home for Thanksgiving. Everything in his life is going well. He’s got a new girlfriend at school and he has decided on a major. He’s back in his room tonight. He played with his dog and went to In-n-Out with us and even went on our nightly dog walk. It feels a little weird having him here now because I know he isn’t staying. Even though he is still our kid, he’s not anymore. It’s like he’s on loan.

This kind of makes me sad, and I have to think that I would be broken as a parent if I didn’t find this separation process a little daunting. But, having him on loan is actually kind of amazing too. Like, I realized the other day that he does his own laundry and grocery shopping. He makes his bed. He runs errands. He makes his own appointments and fills his own prescriptions. He goes to classes and takes his tests. None of this is my problem anymore. It’s all off my plate.

Having kids is an odd thing. You’re your own person, living your own life, and then you get pregnant and there’s this new life you have full responsibility for. They need you for everything. It’s exhausting and frustrating. Some times you love it. Some times you want to get in your car and drive to Guam. Then they begin to become independent. They start driving. They get a job. They go out with friends. They get into college. Then they’re gone most of the year and you’re back to being on your own and living your own life. But now it’s like you’re relearning how to do those things because you haven’t paid much attention to them for eighteen years.

So, as it turns out, Joe is starting his life and figuring it out during his college freshman year in Washington. And I am in my freshman year of part two of my adult life. (There was the Pre Kids phase and now there’s a Post Kids phase.) It’s kind of exciting. Wonder what I will decide to major in this time?

Posted on 19/11/202120/11/2021 by Me 3

Let The Holiday Season Commence, I Guess

I don’t know how it is going where you live, but in our neighborhood the holidays begin now, apparently. Many homes have their holidays lights up, and they are turned on nightly. It’s a little early for me. I don’t want my holidays combined like a vanilla/chocolate swirl soft serve. I want to suck every last moment out of fall and savor every drop of pumpkin spice latte. I don’t even want to think about putting a tree up until the last of the pumpkin pie slices and bites of turkey have been consumed. What is the big rush, anyway? The Christmas season in our home exists for five, precious, ephemeral weeks, and I think that is what makes them more special. It appears I am in the minority, though, because here we are, all lit up like I am already behind on holiday shopping and wrapping.

There is only one holiday component that is allowed to begin before Thanksgiving, and that is the preparation for our yearly holiday card. The family holiday card is something we’ve done since Thing One arrived in 2001. We have not missed one year of this tradition. We know that in a couple years it’s likely that the photos on these cards will change as the boys move on into their own lives, but Steve and I will continue sending out holiday cards as long as the post office continues functioning. It may be old fashioned, but we enjoy it and there’s no stopping now.

Today I started the process for this year’s cards. I began looking online for outfits for the family photos. In the past, I have gone in person to Gap, Old Navy, or J Crew to try to piece together clothing that would coordinate but not be super matchy-matchy. But with a thirteen-week-old puppy in the house, I have too little time for those shenanigans so I opened my browser and got busy. It didn’t go as well as expected, so in the end today I decided to shop in our closets for suitable photo attire. Without too much digging, it was mission accomplished. Next up: location scouting.

We’ve never had a paid, professional photo taken for these cards. We do them ourselves, which makes them feel less polished and more, well, us, I think. We have had, on a few occasions, a family member or friend snap photos for us after Thanksgiving Day or after we cut down our Christmas tree. More recently, however, Steve has set up his fancy camera on a tripod at our chosen location. Capturing a decent photo has not always been easy. For starters, when the boys were younger, they seemed had an aversion to looking directly at camera. So, we would take 30-40 shots, sometimes pausing to run back into the car to warm up because it was so cold. Some years, we had to go with a photo that was not what we really wanted but was the best we could get. The process has not always been ideal. Often there are myriad complaints. Sometimes there are cross words. In the distant past, there may have been threats, bribes, or ultimatums in effect. I always have the final say over the photo we use because this tradition is my baby. I love putting together and sending out holidays cards, even as the number of them we receive has dwindled because others have given up on the expense, time suck, and frustration of this perhaps outdated holiday tradition.

I’m still not quite ready to let this go. I’ve kept a book containing our holiday photos over the years. It’s fun, if a bit sobering, to view these now. Each photo has a story or memory attached. There was the year that Joe insisted on having his shark, Bruce, in the photo. There was the year we took our holiday photos in Hawaii dressed like typical Hawaiian tourists. There was also the infamous year the boys had bowl cuts and were looking pretty spiffy. I am grateful, however, that we have persisted with this tradition because we will forever have these memories and photos of our time with our sons as they grew, no matter what the future holds.

This was actually our 2018 card, which went out in time for New Year’s 2019
2016 in Steamboat
2013
in Kauai
2005 in Littleton
2010 in Pine

Posted on 07/11/2021 by Me 1

The Dog And The Bell And The Butler

House training a puppy is a lot of work. Loki is 11 weeks old. It feels like we are letting him outside constantly, but he still has a couple accidents a day. I know it is going to take time. We’re trying to be consistent as possible. Honestly, we’re just grateful he sleeps from 10 p.m. to 6 a.m. without asking to go out. He is a good boy. And so very handsome. Still, I’ve been reading advice online to determine if I can help the house training process along because, as darling as kids are when they are young and energetic and funny as they experience the world through fresh eyes, every parent just wants to stop talking about pee and poop all day long.

In more than one place, I’ve seen it suggested that you attach bells to your doors to house train your dog. When you take them out, you ring the bell and then when they go potty outside you praise them like crazy. Supposedly, this teaches the puppy to associate the bell with needing to potty outside. Eventually, at some point your dog learns to ring the bell when they want to go out. It’s all very Pavlovian.

I haven’t decided how I feel about this. On the one hand, many people have said it works well, so it might be worth trying. On the other hand, I have to say that with a dog as smart as a corgi is (and man…he is smart), I fear Loki will learn that when he rings the bell, I come running. So, maybe he does learn to ring the bell to go outside, and my house training problem is solved. But then he starts ringing the bell all the time, and I become his butler, running in every time he summons me. Then I have a different problem. I’m conditioned. He’s become Pavlov, and I’ve become the dog.

I might just give him a couple more months grace period on this, time for his tiny bladder to grow while I learn to be more consistent taking him outside. That way he can remain the dog in this scenario, and I don’t start running to open a door every time a bell rings.

Posted on 25/10/202126/10/2021 by Me 2

You Don’t Have To Let Go Of Everything At Once

For two decades now, we have gone to the corn maze with our sons before Halloween. It started in 2001, when we took four month old Joe to Anderson Farms. We have been when it was 80 and sunny. We have been when the temperature dropped and we were finishing the maze in the snow. We have been when we had the boys in Baby Bjorn carriers, then in wagons, and then when we raced as teams (boys versus us) to see who would emerge triumphant. It is one of the traditions we made and kept over the years. It was definitely different this year with Joe off at college, but we decided we weren’t ready to let this go.

It was about 60 degrees at 10:10 a.m. when we entered the maze. The sky was full of cirrus clouds, and the leaves on the cottonwoods were amazing. Luke has a crazy good ability to read maps, so he told us we could finish both sections of the maze in 15 minutes. I told him it would take at least 30. With this challenge, he started leading us through the maze. In five minutes he had us through the smaller section of the maze. I was a little shocked. I knew he was good, but this was a little over the top. I started to suspect that this is why he and his brother have beaten us through the maze three years running. We did get close one year, but not close enough. I thought it was because Steve and I were old and slow. It was actually because Luke was Magellan in his former life.

Luke raced us through the second part of the maze. I kept complaining that although there are seven miles of paths in this maze, I was going to get in less than one mile of walking because he was so damn efficient. In the end, I wasn’t half wrong. We reached the exit for the second part of the maze at 10:36. I tried to explain to Luke that corn mazes aren’t about speed, but Luke told me I didn’t raise quitters. He thinks successfully navigating corn mazes it is about efficiency and speed. I tend to disagree. I think corn mazes are meant to be wandered through in awe, with a plan of escaping at some point but not until you’ve sucked every last bit of glory out of fall before dreaded winter arrives. But I was not going to complain about our difference of opinion because any time with our high school senior is a good thing.

I think that when both boys are gone next year, Steve and I will still work to keep this tradition alive, even if it is just the two of us. I can’t see giving this up. At its worst, it’s a cold, wet day in a muddy cornfield. At its best, it’s a beautiful morning walk in nature under a glorious fall sky.

You can’t keep your kids from growing up and leaving you, but you can keep some things in tact so that if they ever return (maybe with their own children) they know where to find you.

Posted on 24/10/2021 by Me 2

Live Now and Zen

Because even when it seems like a gag gift, the present is still a gift