Why is that it takes a split second for realization to sink in?

That is what happened to me last night.

My son will be going to his girlfriend's graduation on Friday so last night he was showing me what he was going to wear. Backtrack a little here....Last week, I gave him some money to buy something nice to wear, since he owned no dress clothes, to the graduation. He quickly showed me that he had bought black dress pants and a white dress shirt. Still folded neatly in the bag from the store. Back to last night...He tried on his clothes along with the shoes and wanted my opinion. Him wanting my opinion was a shock in itself but when he came out his room fully dressed in his spiffy new dress clothes I felt like I tried to swallow a brick The emotion run over me like a flood and nothing I could do could stop it. I got misty eyed and knew that my baby is "grown" and right then I was looking at him on his graduation day minus the cap and gown and it just hit too close to home I suppose.

I finally was able to choke out enough words to tell him that he looked great and how handsome he is and that he should wear dress clothes more often.

He just looked at me like I had grown three heads, said thanks and walked back into his room.

Typical...

I'm standing there having a life altering moment and he shrugs and disappears

Thank you so very much to everyone that stopped by my last post and left a comment. I think I responded to all but if not, I will..eventually. It's still really hard to look at Baxter's pictures. I even considered taking that post down but feel it would be wrong to Baxter somehow, so for now I am leaving it. I'm just not going to revisit it for a time.

In other news....

There really isn't any so I guess no news is good news .

For the first time in a long time, I had the house to myself on Saturday. Not that I was doing anything even remotely fun. Washing clothes, cleaning, reading a book in between, playing with Patches from time to time and watching the garden grow. In other words, I really didn't do much of anything but it was MY time and I did enjoy it somewhat until I had visitors around 7:30 that evening.

Don't get me wrong, I like for people to visit and really don't mind at all that they stop in whenever but dammit.....it was MY day and I really didn't feel like entertaining two of our friends that live down the street, which are more Hubby's friends than mine anyway.

I was sitting on the deck reading when I heard the 4wheeler. At first I thought it was the guy next door taking his for a spin because he's been doing that lately so didn't think much of it until it got louder and I heard the gravel crunching in the driveway. By the time it hit me who it was (only one person would drive their 4wheeler on the rode to my house) it was too late to dive into the house and take the cowardly way out and HIDE so I put on my happy face and greeted the visitors.

It turns out it's probably a good thing I didn't run and hide. The owner/driver of the 4wheeler spent a total of 3 minutes tops sitting on the seat of the 4wheeler before passing out . After being only mildy irritated that my peace was interrupted, that status notched up to boiling point in those 3 minutes. I couldn't believe that he had drove ON THE ROAD as drunk as he was and I couldn't believe the passenger was stupid enough to ride with him but who the hell am I to tell two grown men well above the age of 50 what to do. All I can do is rant and rave...which I did . The passenger said he'd drive home (he wasn't drinking...which made his decision to ride up to the house even more mind boggling) but anyway, he said he would drive home through the woods and put the drunk on the back. Then he got worried that the drunk would fall off on the way home. Fed up with the whole thing, I told them to both get in the truck, I'd take them home. The drunk then woke up and decided his 4wheeler was worth more than his life. He didn't want to leave it. I threatened him with severe bodily harm if he even went near it. In the end, I got the 4wheeler key and took them home. The next day when he came to get his 4wheeler, he was looking really sheepish. I don't know how much, if any, of what I said to him the night before but I did tell him on Sunday while he was clear headed that if he was going to be stupid enough to get drunk and take a 4wheeler cruise, at least do it in the woods where he would only kill himself, not anyone else I don't think he's too pleased with me right now.

By the time I got them home and unloaded, I was trying to get BACK into the peace frame of mind. I turned into my driveway noticing that a truck pulled in behind me. Not a truck that I recognized . My first thought was WTF? You've got to be kidding me! Who's here now?

Turned out to be another buddy of Hubby's along with his dog. After making Patches realize that he wasn't going to be able to get IN the truck with the other dog, we stood in the driveway and talked for a few minutes. His visit lasted maybe 10 minutes and wasn't at all as unpleasant as the first visitors, then he hit the road.

My frame of mind after that was just shot. No more peace or even the thought of it by then. By that time it was somewhere around 8:30 and I knew Hubby would soon be home from his fishing trip so I thought I just may as well give it up. I closed my book, put it away, took a shower and put on my PJ's. I was calling it a night.

Hubby got home around 9:00 or shortly after. I relayed the events of the day to him and after shaking his head and a few choice words, wanted to know if I wanted to ride to another friends house. It took 2 seconds for me to throw my clothes on a hop in the truck. My peace of mind had been frazzled and anywhere away from the house at that moment sounded pretty good

The Last Battle

 

If it should be that I grow frail and week

and pain should keep me from my sleep,

Then you must do what must be done,

For this--the last battle-can't be won.

You will be sad I understand,

Don't let grief then stay your hand,

For on this day, more than the rest,

Your love and friendship must stand the test

We have had so many happy years,

What is to come can hold no fears

You'd not want me to suffer, so

When the time comes, plese let me go

Take me to where my needs they'll tend,

Only, stay with me til the end

and hold me firm and speak to me

Until my eyes no longer see.

I know in time you will agree

it is a kindness you do to me.

Although my tail its last has waved,

From pain and suffering I have been saved.

Don't grieve that it must be you

Who has to decide this thing to do;

We've been so close--we two--these years,

Don't let your heart hold any tears.

~Author Unknown

 

Although I knew it was coming and coming soon, the reality didn't hit until earlier today when I called to make the final appointment for Baxter tomorrow. Now the tears won't stop.

The last comfort we can give him is letting him go in peace at his own home.

Tomorrow is going to suck and I have to keep reminding myself that this is the best thing for Baxter but it doesn't make it any damn easier to face.

Baxter, as much as you are a pain in my butt, I will miss you so terribly, terribly much!!!!  I love you buddy!!!

 

 

 

  

 

On Mother's Day, before our ever so tasty dinner, Hubby and I went to Costco to pick up a few things. We were in and out in record time (which says a lot for us).

Anyway...

We put our stuff in the truck and got in. I was hooking my seatbelt as Hubby was pulling out of the parking space. I happened to glance in the mirror and notice that the bumper of the truck was attached to the front of the car in the space beside us Hubby had noticed it about the same time I said "Oh shit...you just tore up this car!"

Hubby backed back into the parking space and we got out to assess the damage . It wasn't pretty. The headlight on the car was almost to the point of hanging by a thread and the bumper wasn't in much better shape. The bumper of the truck had pretty much grabbed the bumper of the car somehow and peeled it back like a lid on a sardine can. Not good

I got the car info and plate number and went back inside to see if they could page the owner. No such luck. They didn't have a paging system. I've never known a store like that to NOT have a paging system .

Once I got back outside, Hubby had cooled down and resigned himself to the fact that he screwed up . We waited for what seemed like an eternity hoping that the owner would soon come out. After some time, we gave up on that notion and Hubby left his info on the car.

Later in the evening, after our Mother's Day dinner, Hubby and I were talking about the car and what would be the best way to handle it. Turn it in to insurance or do out of pocket. Either way sucked
. While we were discussing those options, we also were at the point where we could laugh about it.

Hubby has always made the joke that he is a "professional" driver because he had a Class A driver's license so when this happened, picking on him, I mentioned that he wasn't the "professional" he thought he was . He then went on to say, again, that he had the Class A to prove it. I had to remind him that he chose NOT to renew his Class A a few months back when the time came so he was no longer the "professional" and that this accident proved it

He didn't have much to say to that

All in all, the guy's car he messed up turned out to be a great guy and he was so pleased that Hubby didn't just hit and run and he was very understanding that we would rather pay out of pocket than turn it in to insurance so he got an estimate and even knocked off $200 because Hubby was so honest

I guess as far as accidents go, this was one of the best

Hubby and I were having a discussion the other night about Mother's Day dinner.

Hubby cooked some ribs and chicken and the fixin's to go with them. My mom ate with us and showered Hubby with TONS of compliments on his cooking, which I don't mind. He can cook his butt off and you gotta give credit where credit is due.

Anyhow....

Monday night, as I was standing in the kitchen nawing on a left over rib, I was telling Hubby how my mom had called earlier that day and went on and on with the praise of his cooking.

Looking slightly embarrassed, Hubby responded with, "She meant OUR cooking."

Me: "Please. The only thing I "cooked" was the salad. She really liked those ribs even if they were a little too spicy for her. She said you did a FANTASTIC job and it was one of the best meals she's had in a LONG time."

Hubby: "She must not get out much. It's just ribs."

Me: "Damn good ribs and you know it. How come she never praised my cooking like that "

Hubby: "You don't cook as good as me "

Me: "Yeah, I know."......."OMG....I've got it!!!."

Hubby: "What?"

Me: "I'm gonna go back to cooking.......Then maybe we'll lose some weight ."

Hubby: (trying not to laugh)"What are you talking about?"

Me: "It's pretty simple. I cook. We lose weight. "

Hubby: "How do you figure that?"

Me: "I don't really know but all I know is that when I was cooking, we didn't weigh this much but now that YOU'RE cooking, we've gained weight. It's because you cook so good and it's hard to turn down your food so I figure if I go back to cooking, we're bound to lose some pounds"

Hubby just laughed but didn't DENY that it MIGHT have been my cooking

So now I have a dilema

Start cooking again....go hungry.....lose weight

or............

Let Hubby keep cooking.....be well fed.....gain weight

Oh my....oh my.....

Decisions, decisions

It's really not that hard.....

I HATE cooking even if it means I will have to actually EXCERCISE to lose weight