clickmom

my new dog and my old dog

I dropped our “new” dog off at a canine boot camp today. She’s not exactly new anymore, we got her last May, which is 9 months ago, but since she doesn’t exactly fit in here she still feels like an outsider. It is not that we are not dog people, it is that first, we, or maybe it is really me, are not over the lose of our previous dog, (who was pretty damned near perfect) secondly, she has more energy than the five us combined, and three of us are still under 12 and lastly, she , while being very sharp and seemingly intelligent, doesn’t seem to have any inborn desire to please us humans.
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When I got this dog, I immediately attended puppy kindergarten, and made sure that she was well socialized. The part that didn’t work for us was that all the behavior training was rewarded with treats. When that wasn’t working I was told to get better treats. At some point I realized that I could be a steak and she wouldn’t walk beside me on the leash. I have known for a while that I needed professional help.

She does play very well with other dogs, as a matter of fact, other dogs in the neighborhood stop by to have a run around with her all through the day, and the lack of grass on what we call the front yard, but is more appropriately nicknamed the mud pit, is proof of that. What she doesn’t seem to realize is that us bipeds do not play in the same fashion as her canine companions. When she puts her mouth around our ankles or wrists no matter how enthusiastic we started off, we are no longer in the mood to play, and maybe even high tailing it back up the driveway to retreat into the safety of our cars, dry cleaning vans, and UPS trucks. I just think that nipping will be the deal breaker for me. I

We needed to board her anyway, and I heard about this place where they train the dogs (with love) and send them home as obedient and receptive pets. Of course, us owners have to continue to train and work with the dogs afterwards, but this program is supposed to jump start the process so that us inept non professional dog owners can have happy rewarding relationships with our newly civilized pets. Call me what you may, but I am fantasizing that the trainer falls deeply in love with our dog and offers to take her off of our hands. They could live happily ever after and I wouldn’t have to worry about leaving the dinner on the kitchen counter when leaving the room.

It isn’t her fault, she is as sweet as can be, when her mouth is closed, and very attractive even, I admit that I have not lived up to my end of the dog ownership bargain. I thought I would have plenty of time to train her, but the day after she came home from the breeder my then 92 year old grandmother came to stay for three months. She went back home in July and I figured I would coast for the summer and get to work in September, when all 3 kids were in school, but at the last minute I ended up home schooling my 11 year old.

I was living in the city when I adopted our old dog. I had a regular job, as opposed to the 24/7 one I have now, and was committed to having a super cool well disciplined dog. In the city having a well behaved dog was a sign of honor, a badge of success. So I trained him. I’d walk him for and hour or two and then work on training. He did it all, chased squirrels on command, dropped the two that he actually caught in his life, on command, walked beside me off the leash, stopped at every corner and waited for me to signal to cross, played fetch and gave back, and best of all never put his mouth on anyone, even kids that used him as a pillow. Our old dog was my four legged soul mate and I now realize that I don’t think I’ll ever have that special relationship again.

detox- day 4

Detox- day 4 I am so sick, and so deep into detox, that I am not sure which way is up. It was raining and dreary today so I pulled right up to the mailbox so that Matt could grab the mail out the car window. Instead of backing up to make the turn into the driveway like I normally would I just drove on forward. The sound of metal mail box on metal car was just .... exhilarating. Not your every day sound. And the funny thing or not so funny thing is that just half a block earlier I was wondering whether or not I was alert enough to drive. I wasn’t.

Today is valentines day, and being sick, in detox, and I think maybe premenstrual, I am feeling all mushy and sentimental. Now, not enough to actually plan out anything in advance, but I was in Whole Foods today and saw lots of tulips. I thought wouldn’t be nice to get each child a bunch of tulips and have the color represent something about him. I am always trying to let each one know how special he is to me.

When the kids came home from school I was disappointed that they didn’t have any school-made valentines for me. But I knew it wasn’t personal. I decided to go on with my plan. I wrote each child a card starting with “To my beautiful son.” Matt got purple tulips and I wrote a note saying, “I got you purple tulips because purple is the color of royalty and you are extra special and unique. I love you because you are true to yourself.” Josh got yellow tulips and his card said “I got you yellow flowers because you are as bright and cheerful as a sunny day.” Evan got red flowers because “he has all the passion of fire.” Each child just gazed at me speechless.

After some hugs, I got up to put the flowers in a vase. Matt ran off and called his brothers into another room. They came back with a card for me which said “Dear wonderful mother, We didn’t use any color to symbolize you, because there is no color that can compare to your incomparableness.” On the bottom under their names they drew a picture of a red, yellow and purple tulip. After more hugs they asked to take a picture with the flowers. They all smiled at the same time. This was the best gift of all.

Day 3 of Detox

Day 3 of detox- Still rough, I have been having these weird dreams where there is all this snow. though I am not worried because I know my truck can just ride right over it, I wonder why the school hasn’t called to say it is canceled. I realize I am late to pick up the kids from school. In my dreams I look under my robe to discover that I am wearing real clothes, although my hair is wet, and I can just dash out the door. Of course there is a catch, and that is that something disastrous is about to happen here, and I have to leave for 2 weeks, which I know because I keep seeing the number 2 in all sorts of colors and different prints. I know that when I pick up the kids I will have to keep driving until I get to my sisters in Connecticut. I have to leave with no suitcase since I am already late.

Needless to say I am not waking up refreshed. Today, as if detox wasn’t fun enough, I woke up with a head cold and cough. I was going to quit sugar today, I feel like I might as well get the inevitable over with, but I picked up some cough drops so I’ll begin tomorrow.

Today I asked Rich to take the kids out so I could clean. For three glorious hours I got to listen to my own music and not have to talk to anyone. It wasn’t so bad when no one was here, and I didn’t have to talk, but as soon as they came in Evan immediately had to report every single behavior violation of each family member, except himself, and I nearly took him out. Seriously, I told him to shut up.

But I took him with me on a photo assignment I had accepted earlier in the week, it was an easy one, “Moths in Winter” at the local wildlife preserve. Even though my head was buzzing and it feels like every hair on my head is being pulled on. I could practically see the photos in my mind before we even got there. It was going to be easy. Al I had to do was wait for the photo to happen. There would be little creativity happening. I walk into the place, am chatting with one of the coordinators, spot a woman walking around with a camera, and realize that I had not replaced the CF card in camera. My heart lurches into my mouth. I quickly look for the point-n-shoot I have been carrying as back up and it isn’t with my gear either. Panic sets in. I can no longer think straight. Fortunately B has met me there, and she has a point-n-shoot in her purse. So there I am taking photos with this tiny little cheap camera. I didn’t feel professional. Also, I didn’t take as many photos as I normally would have, knowing that they were going home with B. It is weird not possessing my own photos. On my way home, I am noticing that my seat belt isn’t fitting and I dig into my jacket pocket to find....my point-n-shoot. So I start taking photos of myself in the car while I am driving. I am in a fog. At least I was able to laugh at myself.

When I got home I started to realize that I wasn’t just sick, I was going to be really really sick... It is tough to differentiate the detox from the whopper of a head cold I am getting. Matt’s friend Liz was here. She is so sweet . Imagine a girl who not only reads super hero comics, but also plays hero clicks game! All this rolled up into a girlie package. I almost fainted when she walked into the room because she suddenly has breasts, not even the little pointy baby breasts, but womanly round breasts. That means that someone with woman breasts was lying on my sons bed with him reading comics books. Someone he has more in common with than me, who owns breasts(!!!!) was lying on his bed. Omigosh, if they weren’t moving away, I ‘d be freaking even more than I already am. I had a vision of being confronted my Liz’s mom because Matt had gotten her pregnant, and I hadn’t realized that Matt had grown up.

We all ended up going out to dinner together since I had already promised my guys Indian Buffet, and I realized I was so sorry to see them go. I love Liz, and I like her Dad too. I like to think about Matt spending time with them and being around her dad who is so involved with her, sharing his interests without being overbearing, and always trying to expand her mind, and bring up all kinds of thought provoking topics. He would be a nice role model for Matt.

By the time we got home, I knew I was toast. I couldn’t get warm, was covered head to toe with goose bumps. I just needed to get to bed, but dreaded that feeling of lying in my cozy bad and being so unwell that I couldn’t appreciate the coziness.

I am a wheat and sugar addict

I am addicted to wheat and sugar. I am no different from a heroin addict or an alcoholic. I do crazy things to get wheat or sugar, like eat until I am over 100 lbs. overweight. I can eat bagel after bagel and not get anything from it. I can eat and eat. I know where every candy store, bakery, ice cream shop is and am painfully aware of their presence each time I walk by.

I have read all about the physical side effects of this dangerous way of eating and understand what is going on inside, and now I have to stop. I am afraid that if I do not stop my body will just quit. I fear diabetes, heart attack, and cancer , since obese people have such a greater risk. I am not a hypochondriac, just a gambler. I have been on a winning streak, avoiding the consequences of my actions, until now. I have to quit when I am ahead. I know what the detox is like, I have been there before, and it scares me. So I decided to quit wheat first, and wait a few days before going off of sugar.

I am two days off of wheat and I am feeling quite agitated. I hated everyone today, sales women were pissing me off, and the guy who blocked my path out of the parking lot definitely got the bird, hopefully he can’t lip read. My kids having a conversation grated on my nerves more than Ed, Edd, & Eddie. I felt put out when the kids wanted dinner. There are no words for how I felt when no one had much of an appetite. This is so the worst part, until I give up sugar and then I’ll be agitated and tired. What a great combination.

My timing could be better since I have to prepare for Josh’s birthday party on Friday and our trip to Fla. to visit with my parents on Saturday. I knew that if I didn’t do it now I would just put it off forever.

Girls Basketball

I photographed a girls basketball game tonight. The stands were deserted. If it were boys playing the stands would have been packed. It was so empty that when I pulled up to the High School I thought I had gotten the date wrong. There were cheerleaders there, to encourage the players. It was so interesting to see the difference between the athletes and the cheerleaders. The cheerleaders were too skinny, and had tans. I think that maybe they are going to a tanning salon. That's scary to me. The kids are all white, would fair skinned girls be more likely to play the game? I don't think so. Don't the tanning girls realize they'll look like leather chairs in 30 years if they do that? It does make me glad to have boys. I (hopefully) won't have to worry about them becoming cheerleaders. Those girls just seemed so objectified, and girlie, and naked. Those skirts are short. I have seen the way high school girls dress, and I don't like it. Even in their yearbook photos they are half naked. According to me it is just tacky. In my day...(cause I am so ancient) we did not wear spagetti strap halters for our yearbook photos. I wonder if the Moms had any say in these kids clothing selections.

Drawing Class

Ev and Josh were sick for about a week, they just got back out on Wednesday. It was rough. I am loving my belly dancing class, yoga with Evan and drawing with Matt. I feel like a kid again getting to go to all these classes.

We had drawing this morning and I am pretty pleased with what I am able to put down on the paper. I think that all the "seeing" I have done has enabled me to draw better. For the first time my people drawings actually resemble the models that are in class. I am going to start working in pastel, and I do not understand color at all. I don"t get the warm/cool thing or how to layer them. So I was trying to tell the instructor that I do not understand, and he finally got it that there is NO COMPREHENSION here. He will have to start from the beginning. I gave him my blank clueless face and he realized it is going to be a square one situation. I hope he is willing to stick with me, because I like him and his work and would really love to study with him.

Today the instructor said that the model is ok with us photographing her and I almost fainted. Immediately my mind began working overtime. I think I will not bring in my real camera, but my point and shoot so that she doesn't get suspicious. I think she might not be so comfortable if she found out I was a real photographer.

I wish Matt was as into the class as I am. Today he was moody and did a couple of drawings, but wasn't willing to move around the room, or experiment, or try doing a close up study on the hands, etc.. I want him to enjoy this so much so we can just share it and be excited together. I am nervous about what kind of husband he'll make one day. He is getting more and more into himself and less willing to just relax and enjoy. I wish the whole teenage thing was over. I dread the next 6 years.

My kid in a play

E was the gate keeper in an afterschool production of The Wizard of Oz today. I was just overwhelmed with the pride I felt. He asked me to call a few friends to see if they would come, and they all did. He was checking out the crowd and I could tell he was taking a head count of the audience. Then his part came and he nailed it. He was good! So comfortable up there, had all his lines memorized, and spoke loud, clear, and with expression. I was so loving him, I just wanted to run up there and hug him. I was actually taken back by the love I was feeling for him. I think he is so intense with me that I don't get to relax and just watch him often enough. He is a great kid. He'll be a good man.

The Funeral

2/7/05

Went to the military funeral of an 18 year old this weekend. It was so sad. There was nothing but silence. The air was still, the sun beat down on the backs of the many mourners and and all you could hear was the distant sound of an occasional bird until the gun salute rocked the earth, and the bugler tore at our hearts with taps. Then the flag was folded and you could hear weeping coming from the crowd of hundreds of people. There were moms holding their kids and kids holding their moms. This poor mom has no other kid to hold on to. I don’t know how she will be able to go on. I don’t think I could be so strong. I am not sure how she was even able to attend the funeral. I wept for her behind my camera, imagining the pain she is in, and my heart breaking for her. She has no child.

Later.....

I happened to walk into the office when B was about to discuss with M which photos to use. There is a very emotional photo of the parents receiving the flag. I think it is the most powerful photo. M was concerned about offending the parents. I asked him to use it, since I feel that the photo really speaks to the ceremony, and he agreed. I am hoping that I do not offend anyone by using such a personal and painful photo. I know the daily papers use them all the time, but do we as a small local paper have a different standard? Should we use a more bland photo instead of a painful one to spare the victims further pain? Is it our responsibility to tell and show the truth even if it hurts? Where is the line? As an artist I want powerful images, but as a human, I certainly do not want to add to anyone's pain. I hope I did the right thing.

2/11 I am so happy. Last night our local reporter called me after a township meeting to say that she had been speaking with a local official, who happens to be the god mother of the young man who died so tragiclly. The God Mother said that the parents thought the photos were beautiful and would very much like a copy of them. Whew! I was so relieved to hear that. I was so hoping that I could create a beautiful last memory for them and now I know I did. I am so relieved not to have contributed to their sorrow.