Every year, I love the week AFTER Christmas. I tell myself, when we put the decorations up (which I LOVE to do, and would do in September if it were socially acceptable) that I am going to ENJOY this holiday season, and not get stressed out, and most importantly, not wait until the last minute to get everything done. No last minute trips out the door to get just one more stocking stuffer, no wrapping in the middle of the night on Christmas Eve, no baking on the day before Christmas Eve, etc. You know the drill. Every year? It happens again. I whip myself into a panic and don't end up enjoying the season, because I am worried about getting things done when the kids are on break. This year was even worse. I was working every day, all day, with a thirty minute lunch break. Coach was working all day on weekends, and there was no time to get it all done. My kids got sick on the 21st-barfing all day-so I couldn't feel okay about going out and doing stuff on that day. I had a few last minute things to do, and I waited until the 22nd/23rd to do them. Of course? I was freaking the heck out. I am NOT one of those people who can start in August, or even the day AFTER Christmas to get ready for the next Christmas. Honestly? I sort of hate those people. Sorry, if you are one of those people-I don't hate YOU, but most of them? HATE. Anyway, I got sick on Christmas Eve-the day of the huge family party at my mom's, where the big gift was going to be revealed to the whole family (DISNEYLAND-thanks mom 'n ed, you are the BEST grandparents a kid could ask for). I felt crappy all day, and of course, had to go grocery shop for a prime rib dinner at our house on Christmas day, for just our own little family, which...everything in that store looked nasty and nauseating, and the free samples that they were cooking up were almost enough to send me over the edge. I held it together, made it through my mom's party, put on my happy face, and felt like I'd been hit by a truck when I got home, since my tylenol had worn off and my temp was 102. I still had to wrap the kids' presents. Coach did most of it, and I went to bed! Anyway, you get the picture. Christmas day, I was mostly better, and now I finally feel 'normal'. This week, we are still off, and I am looking forward to just RELAXING and enjoying my time off. I am sure I'll be shuttling kids around, and having them in and out of my house, but that is okay...the pressure is off! We may join E and C for New Years, and that is always a fun and casual time too...I'm in dire need of casual!
OMG, my Christmas present that I ordered from the boys to myself just came. It is FREAKING AWESOME!!! For all of you baseball, soccer, etc. moms whose kids play outdoor sports...go on over and get you one-you will thank me, believe that! zipngoblanket
I watched part of the 3,000 plus car procession to the memorial for the four slain Lakewood Police Officers today...police cars, undercover cars, police motorcycles, fire trucks, from all over the country and Canada. I just sat there and sobbed as they went by...
We went through something yesterday that I hope none of you dog people have to EVER go through in your dog owning lives. Our two dogs got out because the boys were in a hurry and left the gate ajar-it popped back open after they shut it-and the dogs got out. I had T and Alex in the car, going to pick up T's friend, and I got a call from Coach that someone had called him because Zip (our old chocolate lab) was out and sitting in the middle of the street by our house. He went and got him, and we figured everything was fine, despite him being very exhausted and having a hard time getting up the stairs because he's 11. We went about our day, putting up lights, etc., until about two hours later when T said, "Mom, where's Candy?" I figured she was in her usual daytime spot, on my bed, sleeping. I told him to check there, and waited anxiously...she wasn't there. I told him to check upstairs, but no. She had been gone for over two hours! I felt so guilty...we just assumed she stayed here while Zip went off gallivanting, because she NEVER LEAVES, even when the gate is open. The boys ran down to the park below our school, because it's an unofficial dog park. She was nowhere. Alex and I drove around ALL. OVER. She was not around at all. We went to the Humane Society and looked at all of the poor, sad doggies...it killed me...and thought we heard her bark. Nope. I cried when I was describing her to the nice worker there. Alex and I made signs and posted them all over the place, as well as at the dog park. It was FREEZING last night. Coach went driving around after his night job and couldn't find her. We called, and called. I went out last night at 11:45 driving around...I could not bear the thought of her lying hurt somewhere, freezing to death while wondering where her people were and why we didn't come to save her. I was crying so hard in the car that I couldn't see. I drove up and down the nearby freeway, looking for a big brown furry lump on the side of the road...all the while bawling my eyes out, praying out loud for God to just give her back. Please. I pictured her in some thug's car, someone dreaming of turning our big babygirl into a fighting dog. I did not sleep. The kids were devastated. They didn't sleep much either. Early this morning, Coach went out driving again. I logged on to my email, not daring to hope that someone had read my ad on crAigSlist. I was resigned to the fact that she was gone. I thought of all of the things that I would miss...her poking me with her nose when she wanted to go out or have some of our people food, sleeping with the kids and squishing me out of my spot on the bed. Camping with her and watching her chase birds and swim. Hearing her snore. Her rolling around on her back in the living room, growling just because she's happy to be alive. It killed me. The first email in my inbox said, "We found your big girl". OMG. I saw another one below it and thought that maybe they were from scammers that wanted the offered reward. Nope! It was from two kind souls who found our Candygirl in their neighbor's yard and let her spend the night in their garage with a blanket, food, and water. I called the guy, sobbing, and made a fool of myself thanking him. Coach came home and I sent him right back out the door to pick her up. All the time he was gone, I kept thinking, 'maybe it's not her'. It was. She is back home, and exhausted. She has been sleeping all day on our bed, and has only gotten up to go to the bathroom and eat, then go back to bed. If anyone ever thinks that prayers don't get answered? They do. Thank you God.