The Big Question

Okay. Children.

Do they end your life? As in, your ability to learn, produce, accomplish, create, etc?

I know the answer is no. I know that there are a million mothers out in the world that are doing meaningful things – being doctors, nurses, teachers, writers, architects, engineers, etc. I know that mothers create some of the most amazing art work, writing, inventions, and inspirations in the world. I know that not all mothers are defined by motherhood.

But will I be? Do I want to be defined by the number of, quality of, politeness of, cleanliness of, ability to do math of – my children?

Are these questions that anyone else asks themselves or am I just over thinking this thing? We’re not having children yet, but damn if it isn’t a time consuming question to answer.

To create life or not to create life. Whatever Shakespeare says, that is the real damn question.

Oh, and for god sake, forget for the length of this entry that I’m a bipolar, panicking agoraphobe, who has been hospitalized on more than one occasion and not so long ago. That part of the equation is so complicated as to border on impossible. It is, in fact, impossible.



Sweet Dog to a Good Home

In his book on surviving depression, William Styron writes,”in the absence of hope we must still struggle to survive, and so we do–by the skin of our teeth.”

Here is where I am – surviving by the skin of my teeth. The burden of responsibility for a marriage, a home, a job, my life, and three dogs has become more than I can carry on a daily basis. And thus, Erik and I have come to realize that the something that has to give is caring for three dogs. Those of you who know me, know that my dogs are my family. Each one has helped see me through some dark times.

We are not giving up all three of our pups, just our middle one – Sanka.

sanka sanka and koda erik and sanka


This is our Sanka – our little love bug. He is the snuggliest dog I think I have ever met; I am fairly certain he was a cat in a past life. He will climb under the covers and keep your butt warm, climb into your lap or onto your legs if your lap is not available. His goal in life seems to be – to lay as close to you as possible.

He is well trained in the way of sit, stay, go to bed, kennel, barking in the house, and house training. He is not well trained in the way of jumping and barking at the neighbors when he is outside – he will also bark when the doorbell rings.

Sanka is also alpha dog and feels the need to make sure every dog that he hangs out with is aware of this fact. Therefore, it is necessary that he go to a home where he will be an only dog, with no children under the age of 10 and no cats.

It pains me to have to write this post, to have to look for another home for our sweet Sanka, but my sanity must come first. So, I’m asking you to look into your heart, into your list of friends, and find him a good, loving home.

Thank  you for your help and for your prayers.




The sweater broke me

Tuesday I was at loose ends. I woke up earlier than usual with a little bit of energy. The problem wasn’t exactly that I had nothing to do. I could have cleaned the house, cooked, done laundry, worked out, done crafting, etc. The problem was that for no specific reason, I didn’t want to do any of those things.

I sat on my couch for probably a half hour trying to figure out what to do with myself. I finally decided to tackle this sweater I made a few weeks ago. It turned out way too big and the measurements were all wrong. So I had decided to rip out the sweater and re-knit it.

Anyway, ripping out this sweater was an apocalypse of yarn. I sat there on the couch and stitch by stitch pulled out the sweater. At some point I started repeating “This has to work. This has to work,” over and over again. Shortly thereafter, I started crying and rocking back and forth.

Clearly trying to feed the dog was just the beginning of my melt down.

After a lot of screaming, the sweater finally was unraveled. I haven’t had the heart to start it again. We need a break.



Every day, my relationship with my dogs becomes more love/hate. I love when Sadie sits calmly by my side to be pet, when Sanka curls up as close to me as he can get and falls asleep, when Koda sits nearby on the arm or the back of the sofa. But these moments are more and more often the exception instead of the rule.

Koda poops in the foyer at night even though we take her out one more time than the other dogs. She also barks when she wants food or to come in the house. Sanka is the most well-behaved, except that he jumps like a kangaroo on people and on the door when he wants to come inside – over and over and over and over and over…you get the idea. And Sadie, our puppy who yesterday, turned six months old. Her faults can all be blamed on adolescence. Peeing when she’s excited, jumping, scratching at the back door to be let in the house, whining in her crate or trying to dig out of it, chewing on cords. These are all things out of which (if God loves me) she will grow.

In the mean time, this morning when I was trying to get her to go into the crate to be fed and she decided to run away from me, I sat down on the carpet and cried. And then of course, she came over to investigate. I guess I have a new plan of attack.

Now don’t get me wrong, the Sadie running away from me was simply the proverbial straw.  I don’t regularly go around crying about dogs that won’t listen or who refuse to learn the proper way to behave. I do, however, regularly go around stressed out by the laundry, the bills, the state of the bathrooms, the number of times I have to leave the house, the upcoming bills, what to make for dinner, grocery shopping, the state of the house in general, and any number of other things. The puppy running away from me when I was trying to give her breakfast? That was just the icing on top of the crap-cake.

My life is good. I have a lot for which to be grateful.  I have a wonderful husband, a nice, dependable car to drive, a lovely house, friends, family, food, clothes, and plenty of toys, among other things.

But most days, I wake up and have to rack my brain for something to make me get out of bed. Most days, it’s the dogs.

Anybody want one?