Pepper Pots

It was a frustrating night.  Bruce ran away for about the fifth time since we’ve moved in.  We were out on a walk and with his nose to the ground, I had a feeling he already knew there was a bunny out.  Sure enough, his head bolts up and he spots the unsuspecting bunny a few yards away.  In a flash, he springs forward and the leash is stripped out of my hand.  Ticked off, I go back inside the apartment with the kids who are now nagging me about how we have to get Bruce back.  I don't want to go after him.

We moved into the apartment about a month ago and since then we've been living with boxes everywhere and everyone stepping all over each other.  Bruce is 90 lbs and is constantly squeezing past the kids and me. Now, at my new job, we get home later than usual and sometimes even VERY late so I haven't had much time at all to unpack as quickly as I'd like.  Don't get me wrong- there's been lots of progress, but there are still boxes in our way.  To summarize it all, we have little quality time at home and we are squished!

So, I finally got Bruce back and proceeded to get dinner started.  Meanwhile, the kids were being really loud as they jumped on the couch and played with their Iron Man toys.  Between chopping onions and bell peppers and calling to them for "quiet voice," I could feel my blood pressure rising.  However, we managed to get through dinner. 

As I was washing our after-dinner dishes, Caden approached me with two toys in his hands- Iron Man and a plastic Lego woman.  “Mommy, I have Pepper!”  He held out the Lego woman so I could see.

“Pepper?” I asked, caught off guard by the announcement. At this time I was tired from a long day of work, pissed off at Bruce for running away again, irritated with the high volume of children playing, feeling claustrophobic from all the opened boxes and unorganized junk everywhere, and my mind was preoccupied with the checklist of to-do items like laundry, bill-paying, etc.  The last thing I could think about was who exactly Pepper was.

“Yes!” His eyes were wide and a smile was stretched across his face.

Then it hit me.  “Oh!” I exclaimed, “Pepper Pots!”  I watched as he turned from me and ran off toward Sean.

“Sean, Sean!  I have Pepper!”

I stood there for a moment and listened as they role played two Iron Mans and Pepper Pots fighting bad guys.  I finished the dishes and approached them.  “So, Pepper Pots isn’t a superhero is she?”

Caden grinned up at me, slightly surprised that I had taken an interest in their activity.  “No, she’s just a friend.  But she’s really cool.”  Then he held the plastic Lego girl up so I could see her.  “Here, Mommy, you can be Pepper.”

I smiled at him as I realized that this entire month has been filled with frustration.  I’ve been doing nothing but learning my new job and fulfilling my motherly tasks as caregiver and housekeeper.  I haven’t been engaging in any real play with them.

As parents, we do that a lot.  We keep ourselves in this little tunnel and only see the things that are constantly attacking us.  We get so involved with tasks and stress that we get too tired to stop and play with our kids.  And sometimes when we do “play” with them, all we really do is give them the courtesy “that was cool” comment or the fake laugh when our minds are really thinking about budgets and unpacking our boxes.

I took the plastic Lego girl in my hand and grinned.  “Hey, Iron Man,” I said, facing the toy toward Caden’s.  I took the Mommy hat off and tossed it aside for the night.  Tonight, I thought to myself, I’m pepper Pots.

Read More

Brothers

Caden: See I'm making a McDonald's, Sean.
Sean: That's a really Really big McDonald's.
Caden: Yeah and you can't go in because you're too big.
Sean: I'm too big for that McDonald's?
Caden: Yeah and you can't bring your toys in.
Sean: That's a cool McDonald's.

Read More

Standing Up for Others

"Hey that's mine!"

I watched from a distance as Sean's face filled with dismay.  His little cheeks were red and his lower lip stuck out in an angry pout.  He glared at the 6 year old boy who had run up to him and snatched his beloved Buzz Lightyear right out of his hands, smirking and saying, "Ha! I got your toy!"

We were at the small playground on our apartment grounds.  It was a fair size, never crowded with children, and I usually let Bruce run off leash since it was gated and he was great with kids of all ages.  The location of the playground was chosen wisely as we never once had the sun beat down on us.  Or maybe it was just because I only took them there when the sun was lower in the day.  

Today there were three other children at the playground... and no adult in sight other than myself.  Two of the children, a boy and girl, appeared to be siblings around the ages of 7 or 8.  They looked alike and played with each other.  The third child was 6; I found that out later.  This third child, a boy, was by himself and seemed to cope with his solitude not by playing nicely with the other two kids who were closer to his age but by immediately sailing to mine who were 4 and 2.  

He was a scrawny looking boy with a very unique haircut.  His head was shaved except for the bangs, which were long and dirty blonde.  He wore a pair of faded blue jeans which were ripped at the knee and a black t-shirt.  All that was missing was the earring.  He was a cute looking boy with bright blue eyes and a smile that I'm sure would melt any heart around if it wasn't permanently formed into a smirk.  He was the playground bully.

He tried to bully Caden by grabbing his plastic robot, which Caden named Crisco (please don't ask why, I have no idea).  But his attempt failed when Caden smiled and said, "You can play with it.  He's cool!"  And the bully just left him alone.  I felt a bit proud of Caden then, seeing that instead of fighting with the boy he avoided trouble by being nice to him.  So the bully moved on.  To Sean.

He ran to Sean, who was just coming off the slide happily clutching his Buzz Lightyear toy, and snatched that toy right from his hands.  When Sean announced his dislike for such an act, the boy fed off this and taunted him saying, "Ha!  I took your toy!"

Instead of rushing to my little guy's rescue, I decided to observe.  I wanted to see not just how Sean would react but how Caden would.  And I was especially curious about the other two children who were there with the bully prior to our arrival.

I didn't have to wait long.  Sean chased the bully with tearful cries for his Buzz and the bully continued to run and laugh at him.  Finally, the girl stepped in the bully's way and said, "Hey, give that toy back to him!  Stop being such a bully!"

Immediately the boy tossed the toy aside and said, "Aw I was just playing with him."  He went on to playing by himself while Caden rushed to his toy.

I was amazed at this.  Caden, who is usually first to come to his brother's rescue, was too distracted by his own activities to check out the problem.  The girl and boy seemed to be talking to each other as the bully was attempting to mess with Caden and they continued to chat as he moved on to Sean.  And it was the girl who took the stand.  It was really interesting.

Most of us have experienced someone standing up for us at some point in our lives.  Maybe not a lot and maybe not recently.  But I'd be willing to bet we would all remember every occasion when it happened.  When I was in kindergarten, I always sat in the front row of the school bus on the way home because there weren't a many kids on the bus and my mom, who worked at an elementary school, was friends with the bus driver.  And there was this fifth grader who always picked on me.  She always told the bus driver that I wanted to be the one to open the door - and I never did!  I hated doing it.  I always felt like people were just watching me and if that handle was too hard to pull, they'd all get irritated with me for not letting them get out fast enough.

One day, I told her that I didn't want to do it.  She leaned up real close to my face and said, "If you don't do it, I'm going to stick a needle in your tongue!"  Friggin meanie!  I was so scared, looking at this crazy fifth grade bully who had big hair and pretty eyes.  I bet she became a friggin cheerleader too.

Anyway, Ben the bus driver, heard this and said, "Hey, get your ass to the back of the bus!  I'm not letting you bully other kids here.  I'm telling your parents what you just did."  He was my hero!  I felt like such a baby, hating to be rescued, but I felt as if he saved my life!  I never had any problems from that girl after that.

I watched as Sean sat in the grass playing with Buzz, smiling with his cheeks still tearstreaked.  I thought to myself, the world needs more people like that little girl.  We need more parents teaching their kids to stand up for others.  And we need to stand up for others more ourselves. Can you imagine what kind of world we'd live in if we stood up for people more often?  If we stood up for what was right?  If a little girl can stand up for a toddler, it tells me that we were born to love.  If she could recognize at the age of 8 that there was a need to stand up for someone else, then it tells me that everyone has that kind of courage inside of us.   I pray that when it's time for me to stand up for someone else, I will find in me what that little girl found in her and become a voice against hurtful actions.

Read More

Taking Leave

I had this dream last night.  Are you ready for it?  Here I go....

I was watching the next Toy Story movie.  In it, Buzz Lightyear kept breaking.  His leg broke, then someone fixed it.  Then he actually broke in half.  Some sad music was playing in the background.  The movie went on to depict the slow but sure wear and tear of poor Buzz.  Then, he eventually died.  And I was sad.

If you're a parent, single or not, you are going to have moments of just insane wear and tear on YOU. Acknowledge this and prepare for it by making plans for breaks.  A good friend of mine once told me to spend at least one day every other week just on me.  However, if you're like me and you can't afford the time you end up getting burnt out. 

When I woke up from this dream I realized I need a vacation!  Like a full week with just some ME time.  I think dreaming of and actually feeling sad about a cartoon dilema is enough to tell me I have not been taking any time out for myself and am feeling surrounded by kids.  In my dream I believe Buzz represented me!!  It was me who was experiencing all that wear and tear.  That's why I was so sad about it.

I put in my request for leave and it was approved... for next week.  Yay!  The majority of the leave will be spent catching up on housework-- mopping floors, shampooing carpets, laundry and dusting.  I also want to clean my car inside and out.  I know, I know.  What kind of vacation is that?  But trust me, having the time to do these things without being distracted by the kids will be such a blessing.

Also I'm completely broke right now so I don't have money for pampering.  However, I have a perfectly good massage pad on my chair, a nice garden tub in my bathroom, packets of Aveeno oatmeal baths, cool pedicure stuff and music.  I will have a spa at home!!

So, all you moms out there, make sure you take your breaks!

Read More

The Single Military Mom Dilema

Being a single mom is tough enough when it comes to dating.  First, you gotta keep the guy outta your family until your relationship with him has proven to be solid after time.  Second, your choice in men might not only have changed for you but you have to realize that you have baggage that not many men are up to accepting.  Kids are frightening to single men!  Stepping into a family is a huge deal and it takes a special kind of guy to want to do it.  With both those obvious dating challenges being mentioned, think about the single mom who's in the military.  That's another huge chunk of baggage.

Being a single military mom doesn't only involve dragging kids to the base daycare at 4am for an exercise or bringing them to work with you when you get called in on a day off and you don't have a sitter.  There are deployments, short tour assignments to overseas bases and long assignments that can keep you at the next place for at least 4 years.  So dating comes with the understanding that you may not be at that particular location for as long as you might like.  It means that if you're deeply into the person you're dating and you get orders to another base, you are faced with a dilema.

I leave for my new assignment in two months.  I will be leaving behind Patrick.  We've been dating for quite some time; long enough for him to be there during all the cool and not-so-cool changes in my kids.  Long enough to learn what irritates us about each other and what completely woos us about each other.  We're currently friggin heartbroken about my departure. 

Although I am excited about the new assignment and being near my brothers, I am really really sad about leaving Patrick.  I've come up with all these ideas like leaving the kids with my brothers every other month for a week and flying to visit him.  Or Skyping with him.  Or writing (not emailing but handwriting) letters for some old fashioned romantic fun.  I've dreamt up all sorts of cool ideas that'll help make our distance tolerable.  But at the end of the day when the kids are asleep and it's just the two of us on the phone, I can't help but hang up with him because I don't want him to hear me cry.  I'm sad.  I don't want to leave him. 

I knew from the beginning that this time would eventually come.  We both knew.  We've talked about it and sometimes one of us would randomly bring up the "what if" question.  So it wasn't a surprise.  But the knowledge and understanding of him dating a military girl and me dating as a military girl didn't stop us from actually falling in a little too deep for military comfort.  The military doesn't stop people from dating.  Jeez, in fact people in the military date more than anything with the size of our population and constant opportunities to meet new people.  But it does have the expectation of commitment.

I've served my country for 10.5 years.  That's a long time and I've grown to love it.  The military and I have had a relationship that has been through so many changes and over time those changes only feed my commitment to it.  In the beginning, I swore I wouldn't reenlist.  I've gone from being a know-it-all young girl to a salty supervisor who's seen enough to know a lot but not enough to claim anything but experience.  Through my years I've learned that of all the things that are pounded into us, commitment is the one solid thing that is expected and with it I will succeed not only as a military member but as a woman, a mom and one day a wife.  That's because commitment isn't just about the military, it's about us individually.

When we deploy, we rely on commitment to keep our families strong and full of integrity.  Spouses that cheat on each other are good examples of that lack of commitment to each other.  When we date, we understand that because we are in the military our relationship isn't going to be in the lead.  The military will move you to another location one day.  Or maybe your work days will change to midshift while your girlfriend is a 9-5 worker.  You'll have to go on a temporary duty for a couple of weeks to another state.  There are tons of things that call us to duty and it makes dating challenging.  All the time.

So Patrick and I are currently sitting in this challenge.  I don't know how it's going to pan out.  If I could lead our relationship, I'd do it with the "We can do it" mentality.  I'm all for making it work.  Our relationship has been pretty darn solid and I believe it has great potential to turn into more.  I truly would grab Patrick by the hand and drag him (not literally or anything) through this relationship saying, "Babe we can do it.  This ain't a thing."  But I can't.  There are two of us in the relationship.  I can certainly display that optimistic attitude about it but if there's a fraction of doubt in his mind, it'll totally just kill our chances.  So I don't know what will happen. 

This is definitely not a fun Single Military Mom challenge.

Read More

I Didn't Mean To!

"Mommy, why'd you break his toy?"

Did you ever have one of those moments where discipline turns into a nosedive into crap and you're left waving your little white flag saying, "All right, all right.  You win.  I suck."

It was ten o'clock at night.  I had to work late and we didn't get home until nine-thirty.  The boys were wide awake (they took a fifteen minute nap in the car on the way home) and decided to play in bed. 

After repeatedly going into the room and telling them to go to sleep, I finally told Sean (he was the culprit who kept getting out of bed to play) that if he came out of the room "one more time" I'd take his Buzz away.  So... he came out one more time and when he saw me stand and head toward him, he ran yelling "Don't take my Buzz!"

He got onto the bed, clutching Buzz and pretending to sleep.  I shook my head and said, "It's too late, honey.  Buzz has to come with me now."  Turning away from him with the precious Buzz Lightyear in my hand, I felt a strong pull.  Sean had grabbed onto Buzz's left leg yelling, "Don't take my Buzz!"  But when he grabbed Buzz, he pulled so hard that he fell back onto the bed and clutched tightly in his hand was Buzz's left leg.  The toy had broken.

In shock, I looked at the toy in my hand.  I guess I didn't believe Sean had actually pulled his leg off so I was looking for some kind of confirmation.  Sure enough the smiling plastic doll was staring at me with one complete right leg and a left thigh.  I looked at Sean.  He was in shock too, with his back still on the bed and his arm still in the up position from when he had fallen backward.  In his hand was the leg of the incredible, the mighty, the wonderful Buzz Lightyear.  His favorite toy.  The toy that he had to sleep, eat and bathe with. 

"His leg," Sean said in a small voice.  "It's broken."

At this point, one part of me is just torn to pieces because I kow how special this toy was to him.  The other part was laughing inside at how quickly and unexpectedly it all happened.

Caden, who had been quietly observing the entire event, said, "Mommy, why did you break his toy?"

Now Sean was sitting up with big eyes saying, "Can you fix him?  Can you fix him?"  His sweet little voice still had that baby ring to it.

"Here," I said, reaching out for the leg, "Let me take him outside to fix him."  I didn't want to stand there in the same room with them trying to fix the toy because I was fighting with all my heart not to laugh out loud.

As I'm standing outside the room, putting the leg back onto Buzz, I heard Caden's voice.

"She broke your toy."

Sean:  "No, she's fix it!  She's fix it!"

Caden:  "No, it broke.  It went like this, PSHHH!"

A miracle happened.  The darn leg was able to be reassembled back onto the toy.  Of course, if it were pulled hard again it would just pop back off, but it was a good temporary fix.  Whew.

Walking back into the room, I saw Caden laying on his side with his elbow propped up and his head in his hand.  He looked over his shoulder at me and said, "Mommy, why did you break his toy?"

Now I just felt like a complete jerk.  Sean's eyes lit up when he spotted a fixed Buzz in my hand.  "You fix it!"

I nodded and gave the toy back.  "You gotta be gentle with him.  Don't break his leg because it'll come off again."

"Mommy," said Caden one more time, "Why did you break his toy?"

I sighed.  "Caden, I didn't mean to break it.  Sean was disobeying me and I took his toy as a punishment."

Caden then turned to Sean and said, "You better go to sleep or she'll break your toy, Sean."

And that's when I waved my white flag.  Thankfully, the whole even motivated both of them to go to sleep without my having to come in and nag them.  Still, I felt like the biggest jerk ever.

Read More

When He Answers

God answers prayers.  Many times we pray for something we think we want or need.  Lots of times we pray only for those things and when WE think we need them answered.

Last year I prayed to get out of my current base.  I focused on just leaving, not really putting any thought into where.  Instead I just wanted OUT.  I applied to an opening in Colorado where my brothers reside.  Not once.  Not twice.  But three times.  I got denied over and over again.  And shortly after that last time, I got orders to deploy instead.

While I was deployed I was faced with so many challenges and I grew so much closer to God!  Since I've been back I've focused on just doing God's will through prayer and endurance.  And I've been so blessed, seeing His work time after time in many things and through many people.  But I still needed a prayer answer.  I didn't pray to leave my current station like I did last year.  But for something I knew was a real need.  Help.

I know there are tons of women out there raising their kids on their own with little to no support.  But my heart has been aching for help.  Strapped for cash and pinned to a schedule that demands after hour childcare, I wept after spending about $200 in just one month's worth of babysitting on top of my already high weekly daycare costs.  I had no choice but to start bringing my kids to work with me on evening and weekend shifts.  My prayer from last year changed from escape to support.

There was yet another opening in Colorado.  I applied.  This time I prayed:  "Father, I applied because this assignment would bring me closer to family who will provide me with help.  I applied because the next time I deploy my kids will have an easier transition to a motherless six months.  But if this is not Your will, God, I pray you will guide me.  I pray, Lord, that you will bring me someone who can help me.  A friend.  Someone I can trust with my kids who won't leave me scrapping for change.  Father, I just pray that you will help me see how YOU plan to help me instead of me trying to figure it out on my own.  I thank you for all you've already done and for everything you will do.  In Jesus' name I pray these things.  Amen."

A week later I received an assignment notification to Colorado.  It never ceases to amaze me when I'm reminded how awesome our God is.  When you talk to God, acknowledging the struggles you're enduring and asking Him to help you see what He wants you to do about, He answers.  It may not be the way you want or expect it.  It may not be the time you're asking.  It may not even be the specific thing you think you need.  He knows your heart and your situation.  He just wants you to trust in Him to guide you.

If I got my assignment to Colorado last year, I wouldn't have been tasked to deploy.  That deployment brought me closer to God than I've ever been in my entire life!  God knows what He's doing.  He already had plans for me.  While I was praying for escape from my current base, He was sitting back saying, "Hold on for a little bit.  I've got something better in mind."

Now, after my deployment, I will be leaving this base a better woman of God than I was last year.  I will be arriving at a new base with Him at my side.  I am getting that assignment I wanted at a better time in my life than I was when I was asking for it.

I pray that I will continue to remember the kind of God He is and to always trust in Him with everything in my life.  And I pray that I will live my life the way He wants me to live.  I thank Him so much for who He is!  Not just for what He's done but for being God.  In Jesus' name I pray these things.  Amen.

Read More

It's Prep Time for Thanksgiving LoL!

I love growing my hair long.  It's easy to keep up in a uniform and you can do so many fun things with it.  A few years ago, though, I found something REWARDING and useful about long hair.  I can donate it!  There are children with cancer or disorders that cause hair loss and believe it or not hair costs thousands of dollars!!  I learned that for one hairpiece, roughly 10 ponytails of donated hair is needed.  This hairpiece is super expensive.  Locks of Love (LoL) is a charity organization that collects donated hair and pays for the creation of hairpieces for children whose families cannot afford to purchase them.  Their website totally moved me and inspired me to donate my hair.

Locks of Love is committed to providing the highest quality hair prostheses (hairpieces) to every child suffering from long term or permanent medical hair loss. The hair prostheses provided are custom-made from donated ponytails and would retail between $3,500 and $6,000. Locks of Love provides them for free or on a sliding scale, based on financial need. These prostheses are different from synthetic hairpieces because they form a vacuum seal, and do not require the use of tape or glue. Only the wearer of the prosthesis may remove it, by breaking the vacuum seal at the temples. Children can dismiss insecurities about classmates pulling off their hairpiece, or losing it during sports. They can also swim and shower with it in place. Wigs do not provide these needs for every day activities of active children. This sense of security allows the children to get back their self confidence and be kids again. -- http://locksoflove.org/mission.html

After learning all about these little children who wait for their own full head of hair, I was deeply moved and in December 2007 I donated eighteen inches.  I walked into my shop the next day and the priest I worked with stared at me with a dropped jaw.  "What have you done!" He exclaimed.  "A woman's hair is her glory!"
I just smiled and shrugged my shoulders.  "Someone else will have my glory then," I answered, quite happy that I was able to give. 

I made a promise that I would donate everytime my hair got long enough.  It costs me nothing but a haircut.  And some kid out there is gonna have a bigger smile on their face when they get their finished hairpiece in the mail.  That is amazing to me.

So... the preparation will begin.  Right now my hair has lots of grays in it.  Although LoL accepts gray/white hairs, they don't use them on the hairpieces.  Those hairs are sold to help with manufacturing costs.  I'm thinking of dyeing it but not until I get closer to cutting day.  Also, my hair is layered.  The longest length is right at my rear end and the shortest is at my waist.  I think I'll have it cut straight across so they're all one length.  I've got a few things to do before giving my hair to someone else.  I want to make sure I give good healthy hair and not dry strands with split ends.  Which is why I've decided to prepare my hair months in advance.

My goal is to donate at least ten inches, if not more, on Thanksgiving day this year.  The hair will be shiny, healthy and soft.  I'm thinking maybe some multivitamins will help. 

Say a prayer for me!

Find out how you can donate your own hair!!

Read More

Mommy Needs A Break

Holy smokes.  I'm friggin exhausted.  Work has kept me really busy, going from one project to another.  People are pulling me in different directions, each asking why I'm not responding to them quick enough.  My new official boss gives me two tasks, both which have an ASAP suspense and both which have sat at his desk while I've been deployed and gone for about 9 months.  So of course I'm expected to swoop in and magically make them FINISHED so his name can shine on top of them.  The other boss in my shop is a chauvinist who insists that because I'm a woman, I should be taking better care of the kitchen in our facility.  Then I get home and ...

the kids need to be fed, they're thirsty, they wanna play, they want a snack, they're still thirsty, they need baths, Sean poops twice and both times his diaper explodes, Caden and Sean fight over a toy, Sean screams his head off because Bruce licks him, Caden finds some juice in the fridge and shows me that he can still have some more because we still have juice, Sean unrolls the toilet tissue in the bathroom, dinner is burned because I'm breaking up a fight, Sean brings me an empty coffee cup thanking me for my coffee, Caden wants milk before bed and he whines like a baby, Caden then whines because he's insisting that he is NOT a baby, Sean is screaming while in time out for hitting Bruce on the head with his Buzz Lightyear, Sean gets out of bed seven times, Caden calls from the bedroom "Sean's sleeping in my spot!"  Finally, finally FINALLY I lay down on the couch and put my feet up hoping to send an e-mail to a friend and before I know it I'm fast asleep with my laptop on my belly.

Anyone wanna be a live-in nanny?  I swear they're the easiest kids in the world!

Read More

Pups in Heaven

Today was a great day.  We took Bruce for a nice walk, went to the beach where we got mobbed by sea gulls, buried Caden and Sean's legs in the sand, played with Caden in the water, and just had a wonderful family fun day.  But when the kids hit the bed and Bruce fell asleep at my feet, my heart had a little bit of a throb in it.  Like it was missing something.  And that's when I remembered.  I don't think I'll ever forget.
Today is Boston's 3 year anniversary of going from "Mommy's Baby" to "Missing."  Who's Boston?  Just one of the few angels God had sent to me.  If you don't know me very well, you'll need to know this:  I love animals.  I love them like I love children.  I believe God has given us these wonderful things as gifts and we're responsible for appreciating them if not because we just love them, then at least in honor of His love for us.  So from time to time, you'll come across a blog post about a past pet or any animal that has touched my heart in some way.  In honor of his memory, I'll tell you a little story about him.  I think I need to write about him anyway.  It'll probably help me deal with it tonight. 
While I was married to X, I had two dogs: Prissy and Boston.  I had Prissy way before I met X and Boston was adopted maybe a year after we married.  Both were lost at the hands of X which marked the beginning of an extraordinary journey to departing my and my kids' lives from a life of abuse to one of victory.

Prissy was an American Eskimo Spitz and Boston was a Boston Terrier/Chihuahua mix.  They were both so different in personality, Prissy being well.. prissy and Boston being a bouncy little pup.  Like all dogs, they wanted nothing more than affection and love.  They gave me more than I could ever give them and in the end that proved true.
During my marriage life was very chaotic and I suffered from depression and anxiety.  The three of us (the dogs and I) endured abuse together.  Prissy and Boston not only comforted me when I needed a friend, they eventually gave their lives.  I won't go into the details of everything because this isn't meant to be a sad story.  But I will highlight that Prissy's death and Boston's disappearance opened my eyes to something I wish I had the courage to see earlier: LEAVE.  But if I left earlier, I wouldn't have two beautiful children in their place.  No, I believe I left when the time was right.  God already had things planned out for us all.

Three years ago today, Boston left.  But he left behind wonderful memories of life in his presence.  He always reminded me of Scrappy, Scooby Doo's nephew.  Remember Scrappy?  That little pup with all the spunk in the world?  That was my Boston.  When he ran, he hopped.  He could chase a tennis ball forever.  In fact he would be dead asleep and if I accidentally dropped his ball, he'd bounce outta sleep and come looking for it.  There were so many things about him that just melted my heart.

One of the sweetest things he did was carry this small, beat up teddy bear around.  It was like his comfort object or something.  He'd sleep with it or just want it near him.  He chewed a hole in the thing and still wanted it around!  I still have the bear but I keep it in a safe place where sticky toddler fingers won't reach it.  :P
When Boston left I was terribly sad.  My heart just sagged.  I remember even praying, "God I know you can do miracles, please bring him back!"  Foolish, I know.  But at the time I didn't care.  I loved him so much.  Losing him was like losing a child.  He was such a good dog.  He was quiet, followed me everywhere, loved anyone who would cuddle him and anytime I cried he was right there looking at me with his big brown eyes.  Both he and Prissy gave me so much love during the times I really needed it.  Losing the both of them was devastating.  And I struggled with my faith when I lost them.  A few Christians I asked told me that the Bible doesn't say anything about dogs going to heaven.  That not only pissed me off but it broke my heart!  But after speaking to a couple of chaplains about it, they both told me the same thing:  Just because it isn't mentioned in the Bible, it doesn't mean they don't go to heaven.  If you read through Revelations, you'll see that Jesus comes down on a white horse!  That itself tells me there are animals in heaven.  :)
So tonight, I guess my heart is just aching a little for them both.  Even though it's Boston's anniversary and not Prissy's, they both were lost to the same cruelty and both gave me such an incredible boost of courage.  I thank God for giving me these two little angels to comfort me.  I know that whether they're in heaven or at the bridge waiting for me, they're happy and healthy. 
Whenever the Lord decides to take me home, I know they'll be running to me at full speed.  So to the both of them, "Goodnight, babies."

Read More