Friday, July 29, 2011

Posting About Nothing...Almost

I have no real agenda for this post, I guess I just want to ramble on.  I might even get to a point or two.  We'll see.

I still have all six Champagne D'argent kits.  They are about..I don't quite know..8 or 9 weeks old now.  I have yet to sell even one single baby.  I will be keeping one of the females--I think-- for a future breeder because her Mom is just really phenomenal.  Her kits are uniform size, and she's got an amazing amount of milk to feed her babies.  Plus she has been a wonderful Mom since the beginning.

I am hoping she passes on those traits to one of the two doe kits in the group.  I have my eye on the larger of the two doe kits.  But I will post some pics to a message board and get some more expert advice about the quality of the two an make my choice from there.

My California doe, who is infertile, will be dinner in the next couple weeks.

So, anyway my Champagne doe just had another litter.  There were only four, but they are getting huge fast and they are a rainbow of colors.  The sire if this litter is my own Buck, a Broken Red New Zealand.  I've got one black kit, one orange kit, one kit that is called "tort", and one broken blue...or could be a broken chestnut.  I suck at the whole color-genetic stuff with rabbits, it can be very complex.

I've been very productive today.  Got three, nearly four, loads of laundry done, folded and put away.  Honestly I really am patting myself on the back for that.  LOL.  I hate folding the laundry.  Washing, drying and putting away is alright in my book.  But the folding part is what I tend to procrastinate on.

I also cleaned out Hannah's closet.  When we moved in we kinda just threw a bunch of stuff in there.  It had boxes of baby clothes, toys, her baby car seat/carrier, a pack-n-play and some miscellaneous crap too.  I got it all out, put a bunch of it in the garage (that got properly put away too).  Then I finished sorting through her dresses, boxing old ones up and putting that way.  I then sorted her shoes and finally vacuumed the floor in the closet.

Oh yeah!  Nearly forgot this.  As I was vacuuming I realized how bad the out flow air smelled.  Ugh.  OK-- you know what a dog smells like when it has kinda yeasty ears?  Well it has that odor.  And it has the smell of a dog that goes swimming a lot but never shampooed.  That's nasty too.  And the air also smelled like basement.  So, my vacuum smells like a basement-living-dog-that-drown-but-had-an-ear-infection.  Hmmm, so lovely!  How do I get rid of the smell?  I'm guessing Google, or Bing, will be my friend sometime today.

Saturday, July 23, 2011

True Comedy; Stupid Things I Have Said ~ Episode 1

Yes, I am changing things up here for today.  I just was reading a conversation on a message board about the really stupid things people have said or done. 

I'll share mine here because:
......1) I've said and done a LOT of stupid things.
......2) I think it would be fun to have a series of these things for you to read
......3) Yes, you should feel special that I'll share.

This very first incident happened to me when I was 20.  I was working as a Registered Nursing Assistant in my family-owned Adult Family Home.  An AFH is a small nursing facility in a home setting where you can have up to 6 elderly or disabled adults living.  Nursing care is provided up to very high levels of medical care and even until the patient dies, if requested.  The family of the residents are encouraged to come often and they did.

One particular patient had a son that I would often chat with, as over two years we saw him a lot.  I'll call him "Gruff".  Gruff liked dogs and did bird-dog training, so we had a lot in common.  We often chatted about dogs, training, gear and the like.

One hot summer afternoon Gruff came to see his Dad.  He walked in, I said my hello, had some small talk.  Normally what I would wear on the job didn't even matter, but for this story I'll tell you I had on jeans and a regular tee shirt.  I looked very normal that day.

About half an hour later Gruff came back out, and told me he was going to the Pharmacy to pick up some vitamins and such for his Dad.  He'd be back in a while.  Ok, see ya later. 

A few minutes later I did a round of checking the resident hall way, I went down, checking on everyone.  When I no sooner stepped into the hall when the smell hit me.  Ok, so being a caregiver I had cleaned up a lot of poop.  Lots and lots, and so not such a big deal to me.  I knocked on the offenders door, she was a cute old lady, but had some dementia issues.  This was to be the worse BM "accident" I had ever dealt with.  Poop was all over the bed, sheets, blankets and HER!  It took me over a half hour to clean everything up, strip her bed and get her into the bathroom so I could clean her hands and wrists.  Nasty.

I don't think I really need to tell you this, but I will anyway.  When you spend that much time in a closed room with poop, the smell gets into your sinuses and often takes half the day to leave completely.  That means, for the next several hours, no matter what you are smelling, poop is part and parcel of that experience.  Fun huh? 

...So when I kept smelling poop I didn't think too much of it, except when I went to go use the bathroom myself (No, just to pee), I saw a blob of poop on my jeans!!  No wonder the smell was so persistently following me! 

I raced down stairs to where my Mom lived, not as a resident -- she was half owner of the AFH-- her job was Care Manager and was the LPN on staff.  So she lived there.  I needed clean pants.  My dear Mother offers me some of her leggings. the time I wasn't fat, but my Mom is about three inches shorter and a lot more slightly built than I.  So her leggings fit me only because they were stretchy.  They were capri's on me, not on her, I stretched them out really bad.  I looked like what was just stuck to my jeans. Crap.  Plus I had a tee shirt on that didn't cover my butt, so I had black, stretchy, thin material covering my bootay, and the lovely panty lines to top off my look.  Being 20 this mattered a whole lot to me!!  But what could I do?  I had to wear them, it was my only option.

I went back upstairs, and by this time it was lunch and I was super busy.  I tried not to feel self conscious in my leggings, but I did.  After lunch I got all our residents back to their rooms for their naps, phone calls, toiletings and the normal stuff I did daily.

--Another side note into the life of any one in the medical field.  We have laws called HIPPA, in a nut-shell they are the laws that say you cannot talk about a patient with anyone, give any personal information such as names, birth dates, ect.  I knew these laws and tried hard to follow them.--

About the time I was supposed to be taking a break, Gruff came back from the Pharmacy with his dad's stuff.  It had been probably about an hour and half since he'd left.  To my horror he looked at me a little odd -- Yes he noticed my pants.  I'm sure my face was pretty red, but to his credit he didn't say anything.  I got slightly flustered.

Right about that time I got a call on our monitoring system that another resident needed some assistance.  I ended up following Gruff down the hall.  As we entered the hall way he goes, "Whoa!" and waves the air.  Yep that much time later the smell still lingered.  I always wanted to keep things clean at the AFH, and the smell and his reaction compounded my flustered feelings all the more.

My mind raced to find a good explanation to the unpleasant odor, as I felt like he would think I wasn't doing my job since it smelled bad.

"Someone had an accident, thats why I had to change my pants!". 

There!! I brilliantly not only explained the smell, but in one fell swoop I got to tell him why I was wearing these horrible pants.

Well..except his reaction and my own realization of what I said happened about the same time.  As he did an about-face, snapped around and looked at me, his head cocked to the side, with a clear expression of disgust.  Yeah at that same moment I realized he interpreted my comment like this:

"I crapped my pants and had to change them, so that's why it stinks in here."

And I thought I was flustered before.  I don't remember exactly what I managed to stammer out as, yet another, explanation. Something like, "umm...I didn't mean me, I meant, someone know? I can't say who...but not me..really." 

Gruff didn't say a word, which made it worse.  He just turned around while I was in the middle of my stammering, red faced, inferno of embarrassment.  And he just walked away.

And my Brother-in-Law heard the whole thing on the monitor.  He yelled down the hall way: "Just shut-up Jamie before you make it worse!!"  Thank you Andrew.

Thursday, July 21, 2011

Off The Cuff

OK, so I have figured out why I couldn't edit properly.  I needed to upgrade my editing tool for blogger...did that and now, as I type this, it looks totally different.  That's cool though.  I didn't really want to abandon my blog.

This post will probably be quite hodge-podge and random, so just warning you....

I have been very tired today, exhausted really.  There's no good reason for it.  I only did regular things, cleaned one of my bathrooms, got my floors cleaned, cleaned the bird cage, made dinner, did some laundry.  Nothing extraordinarily busy.  And I am pooped.  And in a lot of pain.  That's kinda weird too.

I want to ask a question though, to those of you with children: If someone you knew saw your child doing something they shouldn't or something inappropriate, would you want that someone to tell you about it?  I'll answer that for myself.  If Hannah was doing something socially unaccepted or wrong and I didn't see it I would certainly want a responsible adult to tell me.  So, FYI, to "you" out there--If my kid is doing something you don't like, please tell me.  Yeah I know, as promised this is really random.

OK on to another topic.  Rabbits.  I have 6 rabbits for sale, though probably only 5 because I will probably eat an adult doe I have and keep one baby doe back from this litter for later breeding.  I have a Californian doe that I've bred twice and she doesn't seem to get pregnant.  This is a doe I bought with registration papers, and was a "proven" mother.  I'm beginning to think I was taken by the breeder.  She isn't getting pregnant.  She either produces or I eat her.  She's not a pet (mostly because I really dislike her temperament, she's more skittish than wild rabbits).

So, let me start over, I have five baby rabbits for sale and have gotten only a handful of inquiries about them.  I will continue to feed them for another month or so and butcher them, or whatever is left over if sales pick up a bit.  Not such a bad deal with rabbits you either get cash in hand or you can eat them.

When at dinner tonight Hannah started talking about this "baby bullet" thing.  Took me a few minutes to realize she was talking about this: Baby Bullet Food System. LOL.  The NOT funny part was when she said, "Mommy will you get that for our new baby?".  Ughhh....tears.  I turned my head away so she didn't see my reaction--but it hurt.  A lot.  I thought about telling her about the miscarriage, but of course using age appropriate explanation. But I couldn't do it.  I don't know if it's better to leave that alone or to tell her the baby isn't coming after all.  I guess time will tell.  For now I chicken out and avoid the topic.

On that same line of topic--I really want to be pregnant again.  I didn't know how long it would take me to feel like that again. But, surprise!  Not long at all.  This feeling may go away and come back later, I really don't know.  This is all uncharted territory for my heart and brain.  Also if I get pregnant soon then I can avoid telling Hannah that there's no baby coming.  But more than that is that I just really want to start over and have another chance.  I have fears of another miscarriage, but right now, sitting here, it's a chance I can totally take.  Ask me tomorrow if I still feel this way, you might get a totally different reaction.

I have a tendency--in my way of dealing with bad things--to try and "move on" way before I am really emotionally capable of doing so.  My mind tells me to suck it up and get on with my life, but my heart drags along behind kicking and screaming.  The bad thing is I don't hear my heart until I'm in the middle of an emotional eruption that I can't control.  It's not a very good scene.  I hope that is not what I am doing now, but it's really hard to recognize it. Grrrr!!! why can't I be easier to read?

Tuesday, July 19, 2011

What Does Real Gratitude Look Like?

~~I've been thinking a lot today about gratitude. What does it look like? What does it feel like? And noticed that when I am thankful or feeling gratitude I often feel differently depending on what I am dealing with at that time. Does that make sense? I hope.
~~Specifically speaking, I'm talking about God and my gratitude towards Him. I have heard all my life and recently read in the Old Testament about how different groups of people failed in their gratitude towards the Father. I have always been told, in sermons, by my Mom and others around me that we should be thankful in all things. But what exactly does that mean and better yet when you live that out in your life: what does it look like?
~~About 8 years ago I started, in very tiny baby steps, the beginning of understanding of what gratitude really is. It started when I was able -- for the very first time in my entire life -- to really forgive someone for a huge failure to me. We are not talking small potatoes here. We are talking a life long pain that had been inflicted upon me from early childhood. I carried that into my early adulthood. That pain morphed into a lot of negative things. Hatred, anger, apathy, disrespect towards this person, among other symptoms. I carried this burden for a long, and very painful time.
~~God worked a miracle for me in a very short amount of time. Through a book and through some study with my Mom, and through my thoughts during about three weeks, God took my heart and mind and changed a part of myself that I thought I would always carry. When I say it was a miracle I really mean it. I could not possibly have done this for myself, nor could any other human being even start to make that change inside me. A light shown into my heart and mind, and God showed me that He loves this person, He showed me how He loves me and has always loved me. In this time I realized how much gratitude he deserved because I was able to see that who I was becoming was what God had intended all along. And with all this miraculous change inside me, I was able to forgive this very deep hurt. It was and still is true forgiveness to this person. To this day I still do not carry that burden, as this wasn't a temporary change.
~~Fast forward to this time in my life. My growth in the area of gratitude has had it's ups and downs. And, quite honestly, more downs than ups. But I can't ever forget how I was able to forgive and see how God loves me, and how I learned to be grateful to Him. In fact, that is one huge thing in my life that keeps me going in difficult times.
~~Recently Eric and I have gone through a lot of hard times. Most recently has been a string of deaths, of course including the miscarriage. When my dog, Foenix, died I can recall that I was able to "praise Him in all things and circumstances". And I really did. I remember just after my dog took his final breath, and I was sobbing in my husbands arms and over my dog, and I was silently thanking God for all the good in my life, the opportunity to have a dog like Foe, and thanking God that I can count on Him to open another door for us. And I also prayed that He would show me the way and the lessons I needed to learn. It was so hard to not go numb in that moment and completely wallow in my sorrow (no, that came later). I chose to praise God and thank him.
~~Which, of course, brings me to the miscarriage. When I chose to pray and praise God in this time it did feel different than at any other time. And because I didn't immediately feel closer to God I started to question if my gratitude was real. Was I just saying the words or did I mean them?
~~I don't know if I really have fully answered that question. But I did come to some better understanding that I feel is important enough to pass on to whomever chooses to read my blog. I think that I have realized is that gratitude feels differently because situations and reactions are always different. And I think more importantly than getting that "warm-fuzzy" feeling is that I continue to attempt to remain faithful to God in all things. As long as I pursue God in this way, and I am being sincere I know that whatever comes of it isn't going to be failure. God will continue to grow me and, even when I fail at my faith, he never falters and always brings me back.

Monday, July 18, 2011

Thoughts From Today

First off: I have been seriously considering abandoning this blog. Since I don't do the same kind of dog training I used to. Secondly, the dog that prompted me to start this blog is now dead. Thirdly (is that a word?), for some reason I'm having a lot of trouble getting my posts to publish and when they do the paragraphs aren't double spaced and I find that really annoying! ugh!
I'd like to start a new blog, I don't have a theme in mind. I suppose it could be just about my life, my growth in my Faith, and my family. That really doesn't sound so interesting to me. Just something I need to consider.
Today I talked to several people about the miscarriage. I finally talked to my Mother In Law, my sister, Lola, and my good friend Rachel. Funny how you get such varied reactions and comments. From my MIL I got some tears and she is such a good listener too. From my sister I got some good comments, and some good listening. But that conversation was more matter-of-fact, and in some way that felt weird to me....I guess I was looking for a bit of a pity party. Not saying she didn't sympathize with me--she did. I need to work on my 'expectations' of others. I find all the time, the older I get the more I need to work on those small, yet very real negative things about my personality.
I feel sad right now. Very very sad. A thought occurred to me about 20 minutes ago and shocked me a little. My heart told my head very clearly, "I miss my baby". I don't miss being pregnant. My husband mistakes those two things. When I told him I loved this baby already he said, "You mean you loved being pregnant?". NO. I love(d) this baby. He said, "OK...". He doesn't get it. *sigh*
This pregnancy was hard on me and my husband. Those 2cc progesterone shots were painful for me and nerve wracking for him to give to me. My entire hip area across my low back was patches of swollen, itchy, numb and painful skin. After I stopped taking them about three weeks ago my low back/hip area still is painful to an extent. Not to mention the numerous trips to the clinic, the ultrasounds, the drugs (I was on three not including the progesterone).
But really I didn't mind that much, because I was pregnant. My other problems seemed to diminish easily. Nothing mattered much to me except I was thrilled we were going to have another baby to love. I found myself being a better person to others around me. Funny how things can go completely opposite in a short time.
How opposite? Well, get this! When I finally was able to beginning accepting the baby had died, at that time MY problems got so large that NO ONE ELSE'S PROBLEMS mattered. At. All.
I felt mean. And I was mean. Not so much outwardly, though some of that too, but inwardly I had some dialog that was really not how I normally think. All around me people's lives were still being lived and along with that there were problems. Normally I am a responsive person to others, but not at this time. Nope. I really didn't care, and I didn't want to hear it. Because I couldn't pretend that I thought there problem was bigger than my own. Not only that but I really COULD NOT handle the added stress of other peoples problems at that time.
Don't feel great in your relationship? Oh yeah? Well my baby died and is still inside me. I'm only waiting for the inevitable time when my body expels it. So yeah, your issue isn't so bad.
Feel like your parents didn't treat you exactly as they should have? Well at least you survived to tell me how terrible they were. My baby didn't even have the chance to know what a parent was.
Mean huh? Yeah I know...I am ashamed of that. The pain was and still is very raw. Though I am now back to being more in-tune to my family and friends. I really don't ever want to feel that way again.

Saturday, July 16, 2011

Hope Is Still Alive

But, not our baby. Baby died at about six weeks gestation. After all I explained in my last post we did finally get to see the yolk sac and fetus inside. It was real. In a way that makes me very happy to know that it was real. I suppose in some strange way it legitimizes the sorrow we are feeling.
My sister, Heather and her two girls, Lexi and Kiley came to visit from Ohio for the past two weeks. In fact, they just left this morning. Our visit was extreme in several ways. Extremely fun, extremely exhausting, and extremely stressful.
I had been spotting for a couple weeks before they came. I started period-like bleeding within a few days of then arriving on the 2nd of July. We made a whorl-wind trip to see our Grandmother and I felt like crud the whole time. Cramps and increasing bleeding. Mercifully we had booked a Motel and I didn't have to stress out about what was happening while pretending I was cool and collected at Grandma's house. I found it easier to deal with in a Motel. I don't know why.
When we got back from Grandma's house my husband was leaving on his "Guy's Trip". An annual pilgrimage to the sand dunes of the Oregon coast. They ride motor cycles and quads and have a sweaty, good old time for four to five days. I didn't want him to go. I was having increasing anxiety about what I was about to face. The inevitable expulsion of the baby we hoped so much for. I was really freaked out about this.
So Eric left. And I had to put on a brave face for our guests and make sure my own daughter and my sister's daughters didn't have to face my very adult problem. I knew that I had to make sure this wasn't on their shoulders. I guess I did OK with it. Though at times I was really bitchy....sorry but there's no other word that applies. I was tired, in pain and scared. Not to mention I had to deal with our daughter 24 hours a day with no break for over a week, all the while entertaining my out of town family members.
For me this baby was real the very second the home pregnancy test came of miraculously positive. I smile as I type this. The joyful feelings are still strong and a fun memory. I can say with certainty that I already loved this baby, for looking at my three-and-half-year-old made me know all the fun, love and change that was in store for us. I am so ready for that again. My love for my living child makes me love the lost one all the more.
I am blessed to be able to love like this. Thanks to God.