I have tried to talk to David about this (if another person tells me to lighten up and quit being insecure, I’m gonna scream) and it just makes me more irritated. He says men feel as insecure about their chests when men are shown with fabulous chests and washboard stomachs. I have to give him brownie points for trying to show understanding but I think he’s full of poop and it was good for a laugh.

Here’s what irritates me the most. When was the last time you were watching television and a man walked by naked? When was the last time you saw his rear end? When was the last time you saw one in his underwear? Not that often, right?

It’s not that I’m dying to see naked men (I understand that I could subscribe to special channels or magazines if I’m that hard up for viewing men’s bodies) it’s just that I don’t understand the double standard. Why flaunt women’s bodies everywhere in teeny panties and bras or topless and then show the man always covered? Why are men’s bodies and sexuality protected and not women’s bodies?

Anyway, back to what got me steamed up and motivated this little rant…

I went to the Dryel website to download coupons. On their home page I see a man and woman in their underwear waiting for the laundry. Big words, “Does the cost of dry cleaning get you steamed? Getting steamy at home is more fun.” She’s fully viewable in her skimpy undies with butt cleavage and his underwear and buttocks are covered with a blip “Free to wear what you want, whenever you want…”

REALLY? What’s the big deal about HIS underwear and butt cleavage? Why not cover hers instead of accenting hers? Are women only viewable as sex objects?

Does this irritate anyone else?

Anyway, if you want the coupon to get steamy in your own underwear:
Click here to request your Dryel Coupons.

I was looking for something under the bathroom sink and I knocked over her shampoo. Shampoo she’ll never need again.

I was cleaning up the patio and I found her collar. My heart ached as I rubbed a patch of her fur that was caught in the velcro.

I stare out the patio door as I type this now. Her empty doghouse haunts me.

The thing is, I never thought there would be a day that she wouldn’t be faithfully waiting nearby.

It’s been two months since I noticed something was wrong with her. David drove us to the vet as I held her in my lap, wrapped in the boys’ Finding Nemo blanket.

The ride was quiet except for the radio. I’ll never forget the song because the timing was perfect. It was an old one, but a good one. I remember singing it over and over as a child. On this day, it had new meaning.

If I had only one friend left,
I’d want it to be you.
Someone who understands me,
And knows me inside out.
And helps keep me together,
And believes without a doubt,
That I could move a mountain:
Someone to tell it to.
If I had only one friend left,
I’d want it to be you.
Dan Seals – One Friend

It was a rough day. My oldest son was 3 when we saved her from being euthanized at a shelter. I delayed the euthanization for almost 12 years. She was saved by my choice and now, ironically, I served her the fate I helped her escape.

It’s been two months since I took her face in my hands and looked into her huge brown eyes for the last time as I told her, “I love you Peach. Thank you for loving me and my children. I love you…”

She drifted to sleep as I kissed her face and bawled like a child in front of the vet. I watched helplessly as David and the vet carried her lifeless body out of the clinic and placed her in back of his truck.

I pulled the boys’ Finding Nemo blanket over her and we left to give her back to the earth and back to her creator. We prayed and thanked our father for trusting us with his sweet creature. It was a rough day, indeed.

Just the other day, I quickly walked past the patio door and saw her out of the corner of my eye. She was standing there, looking in as she often did just before laying down in front of the door to guard her family.

My heart stopped and I slowly turned to look again.

She wasn’t there.

Wrangler: Mom what is this word on my juice box?
Michele: The word is ‘questions’.
Wrangler: Not that word, Mom. The one under it.
Michele: ‘Preguntas’… that’s the Spanish word for ‘questions’.  You can learn Spanish while you drink your juice.  Neat, huh?
Wrangler: I guess. Biscuit said it means this juice can make you pregnant!

Who knew?  All this time I thought I was providing 100% juice.  Nothing artificial.  Well… at least there’s no added sugar! 

Speaking of Juicy Juice… I just surfed over to their site after giggling about our little birds and bees conversation (sorta) and noticed that they have several special offers at the moment.

They even HAD a video contest for kids.  Darn! Why didn’t I have the video camera rolling when this conversation happened?

So I decided to go all out and make it a truly special moment by redecorating and…

Breaking. My. Blog.

Well, it’s working again, but now I’m too exhausted to finish decorating and blogging! Of course!

Anyhooo… Pardon the completely unorganized appearance (which resembles my brain). I’ll get back on the horse soon!

I can’t believe you’ve been gone seven years. I miss your funny jokes, pranks and sense of humor. Your special charm never failed to bring a smile to people’s faces. The world could really use another dose of you to lighten up and get with the program.

I’m so sad that my two youngest will never know you except thru photos and that my oldest probably won’t remember enough about you. Though every grandfather is special, I know that I had the most unique and loveable grandfather a child could wish for. Boo and Uncle Keith dubbed the two youngest with their nicknames as you would have done, but I often wonder what you would have chosen for them.

Mom still struggles with you being gone, worse than others realize. She refuses to acknowledge her birthday anymore because not sharing a cake and family gathering without you every year is too painful.

I heard you and Dad talking the night you brought me home after a really low point in my life eight years ago. I’ll always remember what you said to Dad when you both thought I was sleeping. Thank you for always believing in me and supporting me. Thank you for being proud of me, no matter what I did or didn’t do.

Three days before you died, I called you from the hospital when Biscuit was born to tell you the news. You never knew it was me, as far as I know, because there were problems with the phone line and you never heard my voice. It was our last conversation and you said, “Hello, hello… hello?” and I hung up deciding I would call you when I got home from the hospital. How could I know that hello would be goodbye for us?

I took it really hard, being one of the few in the family that wasn’t able to say goodbye to you in person when you left us. Why didn’t phone work that night? Why didn’t I try to call back immediately? I wanted you, of all people, to know that Biscuit had arrived because of what you said to Dad that night. I never got to tell you. And I never had the chance to say goodbye.

Is there no goodbye for you and me? Did the phone problem happen for a reason? I’ll wonder for the rest of my life. Until I know for sure, I’ll be missing you and waiting to finish that conversation.

Love Always,
Toots

Anyway, to get to the point… because of my friendship with Annette, I’ve also become more aware of Fun on the Ark, it’s adorably stuffable critters and her mission at Critters Who Care to help children in unfortunate situations. I helped Annette run a contest at Moms Love Shopping in December to donate stuffable critters to children in the Hospice program.

Some of these children are terminally ill and others have a parent in the program that is terminally ill. Annette donates her critters to these children to help them cope. You can read some of the great stories that are being reported back to Annette about the success of Critters Who Care.

Soon after Christmas, my children received their own critters from Fun on the Ark . Now, most 13 year old boys would probably consider an activity such as this with his mom and little brothers “uncool”. The two little ones sleep with their new critters and my oldest says he’s keeping it to remember our Christmas together this year (he currently lives two states away with his father during the school year).

So, I say to you… if my children enjoyed these critters and treasured them to this extent, can you imagine what these animals mean to a child that Annette donates animals to for grief therapy?

How can you help? I’m so glad you asked. You can find more information and get in touch with Annette to sponsor Critters Who Care.

On the other hand, if you know of a child that would benefit from this type of therapy, you can contact Annette to recommend children in need of stuffed animals.

We all miss you and can’t wait to see you for Christmas, Alec!
With Love: Mom, Nana, Nannie, Donald, Biscuit & Wrangler

You can make your own studio quality video at Animoto.

My uncle has made enough improvement and proved stable enough to go home from the hospital earlier today. He will still need physical therapy and daily help from others for awhile as his injuries and surgeries from the accident has left him unable to function as usual. His being alive and recovering is definitely worth being thankful for this Thanksgiving.

To start with, last Wednesday we heard that Donald’s aunt suffered a stroke. Biscuit and Wrangler are absolutely NUTS about her and I’ve always thought she was the sweetest little lady I’ve ever met. I suppose it goes without saying that Donald was upset.

Thursday morning as I’m hitting my work groove, I get a phone call from my mom telling me that my uncle (who just happened to drop in for an unscheduled visit on Wednesday for about an hour) was hit by a car. It took me several minutes to realize that her level of panic was because his BODY was hit by a car… it wasn’t a normal car accident.

Apparently, he was driving to work behind a feed truck carrying molasses on the two lane divided loop around town. Somehow, the load became unstable and spilled molasses while my uncle was behind it. Unable to see and losing control of his vehicle, he hit the embankment. Stunned, he crawled out of his vehicle only to be struck by another driver that lost control of their vehicle when they hit the molasses. There’s no way to be certain how fast the car was going, but the speed limit on the loop is 60 MPH.

Now, my uncle is a HUGE man. He’s probably about 6′4 and even though he has recently lost weight, (and was looking better than I’ve seen him in years the day before the accident) he’s still a guy you’d worry about fighting if you were the last two people on earth and there was only ONE bread crumb left to eat. Let me paint the picture a little better for you… he’s an ex-professional wrestler. I’m not talking fake Hulk Hogan television wrestling, folks. I’m talking about the real deal with barbed clubs, chairs, cages and blood. The kind of wrestling that scares the living poop out of you if you happen to be sitting in the front row…

So, as of yesterday, he was doing better, with surgeries completed. His thigh bone was shattered and a steel plate was put in to replace the bone. He has pins in both wrists. His forehead looks like one of the cavemen from the Geico commercials or the new sitcom (if you watch it). He’s pretty heavily medicated on pain killers and is unable to ring the call light for a nurse by himself. We thought the worst was over and recovery was ahead.

Today, it was discovered that his pelvic bone is probably broken as well. It gets worse… now it’s determined that he’s bleeding internally but the hospital hasn’t determined where yet. He is now receiving blood transfusions.

Through this ordeal, there has been many family members in and out as well as his friends, coworkers and church members. I’ve felt very helpless and the most help I’ve been able to be is keeping his daughter overnight the night of the accident. My mother and I also took her, another young cousin and my boys out to McDonald’s on Friday after school. We then took the kids to see the Bee Movie on Saturday then back to my house for pizza and playing.

I know that his injuries are so severe that it will be an extremely long recovery and much help will be needed from our family and community to get him and his family through it. I hope that I can be of help then because he’s never hesitated to drop everything he’s doing and come running to help me or my children when I’ve been in trouble.

Because I can think of nothing else I can do to make a difference now, I have decided that I will go down and donate blood tomorrow. Even though the odds are small that my blood will actually be used for him, it makes me feel good to know that I’ll be helping to refill what he has used for the next person that may desperately need it. What do you when you feel powerless and helpless in a family crisis?