Baby, I Live in the State of Denial

Denial. Is there an honest one among us who hasn't used this approach toward all kinds of unpleasant subjects?

birthdays are celebrated

I've been smacked in the face with a whole lotta reality lately, & let me tell you, it ain't fun. I am not enjoying it. This is probably why I need a diversion like changing my hair...so I can delay what I can no longer deny.

Let me set you up- I have great friends. I think they are the kind of people that would drop whatever they are doing & help you out of a bind. There are some I am closer to than others & that's natural, but I think even the ones I'm not as close with would help me out if I asked, within reason & even beyond reason....because they are good people. Some of them talk too loud, drink too much & smoke more than they should...but they all know how to laugh & they greet everyone with open arms.

The odd thing about this bunch, & I acknowledge that it is truly odd in this world today, is that most of us went to high school together. We weren't all in the same classes. We didn't even all hang out with each other then...but after reunions & classmates & facebook, we've found a core of us are still local & still enjoy each other's company, & in many cases, their spouse's company too. (Now get your mind out of the gutter! I mean we've made new friends in them!)

I had a friend say to me nearly 20 years ago, "We're the kind of friends that will always be close. Even if we go 20 years without talking or seeing each other, when we do, we'll pick right back up where we left off & it will be like no time has even passed." Time has passed & we have grown, & I do count him & his wife my friends.

any excuse to get together

But pick right up I did with another, she found me on classmates just before my reunion. Love ya, girlfriend!! We'd meet up once a month or so to have dinner & drinks, or scrapbook & it was like no time had passed at all. Between us, we connected with a huge segment of our high school gang. She was awesome about organizing gatherings. Someone dubbed them Focus Group. This is where I met another gal. We'd gone to high school together too, but didn't know each other. It's crazy how we just clicked. We felt like we'd known each other our whole lives!



So there's a bunch of us & they're really great people & we, as a collective whole, have been hit with some rough stuff lately... Some big, major, life-chaging, get-a-grip, challenges have been thrown this way.


There are a few cancers. There are a few divorces & separations, infidelity. There's been infertility & miscarriage. There is unemployment. There are job transfers & moves. There have been accidents. There has been unexplained illness, a real medical mystery. There is high blood pressure, heart disease & diabetes. There've been 2 who've had surgery for chronic back pain. There are ailing, aging parents & special needs children. I'm sure there are other conditions of which I know nothing.


That's when these friends pull together. We support each other. The occasional cattiness is put aside & there they are with a kind word, a smile or a hug just when it is needed most. The outpouring of love for our dear friend. who is much too young to be dealing with a heart condition, has been amazing! She got hit with the wake-up call, but we were all on the line.


There are more vows to quit smoking than I have ever heard...& I hope they follow through, not just in support, but for themselves. I know it's hard. I did it myself 6 years ago.

We crown princesses.

I don't think anyone's talking about giving up drinking...I mean, good God, that's drastic! Well, they talk about it every Saturday & Sunday morning, but I don't think anyone is really going to do it. I probably drink the least of any of them. I don't have any moral objections to it, I just simply don't because it messes with my blood sugar...& my train of thought, speech, large motor skills....

The heavier ones among us are going to have to get in shape or end up with the same problems. Ugh. That means me. We have pretty much the same body type. The horror of the sweat that is sure to come has me bargaining with my brain. Logic & fact are battling with rationalization & denial. It gives me a headache & a reason to postpone what I don't want to face. Delay & deny are BFFs.


The truth is, I eat well. A little too well apparently...wink, wink. No really. The food I eat is usually very healthy. It might be a little heavy on beef, but I swear it's the lower fat beef. It might be a little heavy on cheese, but I don't drink as much milk as I used to, so I still need my calcium. Right? Right. But what I mean is, I eat mt veggies. I love them. I eat whole grains, brown rice, & fruit. I eat protein & fiber & dairy. I use Splenda in my coffee & my steel cut oats.


My snacks are unpredictable. I don't always have snacks & sometimes I am fine. Sometimes my blood sugar drops & I am not so fine. Whether it be low blood sugar bitchies or the girly hormones, you don't want to mess with me when I need food. I could, figuratively speaking of course, cut your eyes out for looking at me wrong. I could cry & be unable to stop. I could develop a headache so severe, I can't breathe without causing myself excess pain. And even if you wanna kicky my butt, biology already did. So I guess I need to ask my doc about these things. I'm not really sure what to do with it. I do know I most definitely get cyclical cravings...salty, sweet, fatty, oooh, all 3 at once please. I might binge on 1 more of these items for 2 or 3 days once a month, but then I go back to being pretty good & choosing pretty wisely & exercising reasonable self-control . Gotta exercise something some time, right?


But I know, with support, I can start to make the changes. If we work together to heal one, we can work together to heal all. My friend is obviously in need of recovery time. She'll be quite restricted on diet & activity, so I'll get right on board with her, starting in about 5 weeks....

We all deserve to be princesses!

What?!

Denial... Don't call me. I'll call you. I've got your number.

Maybe She Likes It- An Ode to Doodle

When my husband & I got married more than 11 years ago, we discussed getting a dog together. I convinced him, with my love of mutts, to save a dog. If we got a rescued dog, we wouldn’t contribute to irresponsible breeders or puppy mills. It would be cheaper & give us as much love, or more. I’m convinced that rescued dogs know they are rescued & are grateful.

We lived in a 2-bedroom townhouse at the time & were expecting our 1st child. I thought it was better to get any training & behavioral issues controlled before the baby came. We were looking for a medium-sized dog, around 40 lbs. We walked through the rows of cages with dog after dog excited to see us. The shelter employee noticed my 5 months pregnant belly & said they had a dog that was known to love being with children, but she was a little larger than what we were looking for….we asked how much larger. Turns out, she was only 55 pounds. They guessed her to be about a year old. She came out of the cage & promptly laid down on my husband’s feet, belly up. It was adorably pink & bald as she still had her stitches from being spayed. He says now that he thought she was being submissive but if only he’d known she was commanding him, “Rub my belly!” Ha!

We visited her once more before we were allowed to adopt her. She became our Doodledogg. I absolutely adore her. She was curious but gentle & loving toward our baby when she was born. She was patient with the toddler pulling hair & using her as a step stool. When we had our 2nd child, the dog looked at our new bundle of joy & with an abundance of attitude almost spoke aloud, “Oh, another one,“ as she turned away & largely ignored her until the child was walking & talking.

Doodle grew to almost 85 pounds through the years & is still pretty healthy at over 12 years. As I made up songs to sing to my children, because I sing when I'm happy (or maybe I just I warble out of tune words) Doodle always seemed to get a kick out of it. Somewhere along the years as my children appreciated my singing less, I started singing to my dog instead.

So maybe I'm a bit offbeat…. to the final Jeopardy tune- - Doo-dle, Doo-dle, Doo-dle, Doo-dle, Doo-dle, Doo-dle, Doo-doo-Doodledoggy…. & on & on…
I sing the circus theme- - Doo Doo Doodle Doodle Doodledoggy, Boo Boo Bootie Bootie Doodlebootie….
I sing My Darling Clementine- - Oh my Doodle, oh my Doodle, oh my darlin’ Doodledogg….
There’s All Around the Mulberry Bush, but it goes like this- - All around the living room, Doodle chased the laser, Doodle thought it was all in fun, ‘til she figured out where it was coming from…

I never said they all fit perfectly. I make them up as I go along… Dorkorama...& she sings to me too. It's kind of ridiculous. It's more of a yodel really. I mean there are no words! But just as a baby has different cries, Doodle sings different & distinct songs. There's the anxious, agitated one for the mail or any type of delivery. There is the soft, sweet one that begs, "Please may I have your dinner?" There is a slightly more persistent one to tell me that I haven't put away dinner left-overs yet & she would be happy to take care of that for me. There is another to let me know when another animal is in the vicinity...deer, cats & other dogs get much more attention than squirrels, chipmunks, geese or ducks. Bunnies may or may not get a free pass.

Doodle doesn't do a lot of barking, but the mail song can get pretty lively. I usually try to calm her down with a little Karen Carpenter: Sing, sing a song. Sing out loud. Sing out strong. Sing of good things not bad. Sing of happy not sad. Sing, sing a song. Make it simple to last your whole life long. Don't worry that it's not good enough for anyone else to hear... Just sing, sing a song. La la la la la La la la la la la... Sing, sing a song. Let the world sing along. Sing of love there could be. Sing for you and for me....

And that's my motto when it comes to singing. I know I'm not good, but Doodle doesn't care. It makes us happy, so we continue: What would you think if I sang out of tune? Would you stand up & walk out on me? Lend me your ears & I'll sing you a song, & I'll try not to sing out of key. Oh I get by with a little help from my Boo, Mmm, I get high with a little help from my Dood, Mmm, I'm gonna try with a little help from my daw-aw-aw-awg.... (All apologies to John, Paul, George & Ringo for the massacre of their song.)

While my children grow older & don’t want to sit on my lap & cuddle anymore, I’m grateful for Doodle, the oxymoron of perpetual puppy & crotchety old lady who still lies at my feet. I know she loves me. She tells me so every time she doggy-hugs me throughout the day. She leans into me, or more often than that, pushes her head into me. The harder she pushes her head, the tighter the hug would be if she were capable. Then she flops down & commands me, “Rub my belly!” & I never mind.

I tell ya, sometimes she’s so darn cute lying there that I look at her & burst into song. She opens her eyes & thumps the tip of her tail. If I stop, so does the tail. I suppose it could be wishful thinking on my part, but I also think maybe she likes it.


****Update****
On 2/26/2012, my beloved Doodledogg left this world. She took a bad fall & her ability to stand & walk decreased hourly & we had to hand feed her & carry her to the vet where the decision was made that she could not recover. They suspect it was a brain tumor & I'm happy to say that in nearly 14 years, she was playful right up 'til the end. She only had 2 hard days. I will miss her terribly.

Someone said to me, "That's the thing about dogs. They are awesome, but they are going to break your heart in 10-15 years."