Tag Archives: easter

Dear Diary, It’s Been Awhile…

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My mom was in a biker gang when she was young. She is still pretty bad ass.

My mom was in a biker gang when she was young. She is still pretty bad ass.

So…how’s it going? Me? Not much is new here. We had Easter. That was nice. I like Easter. I used to dress up the kids in identical dresses every year which was challenging as they are 4 years apart. When my oldest was 11, she started rolling her eyes when I would come home with the matching dresses. My dad actually put his arm around her shoulder on the last Easter he was alive and said “Really, I think it’s time you stopped forcing them to dress alike…they aren’t triplets, they aren’t going to be triplets. Just because they are sisters doesn’t mean they need to match on major holidays.”  And then he died. Well, not right at that moment…that would have been REALLY traumatic and maybe if that had happened I would have taken his words to heart. Instead, I continue to find matching outfits. But not matching exactly. For Christmas, we all wore knit dresses in solid colors. For Easter, we all wore dresses with crochet overlay…yes, I said WE…I have included myself in the dress alike nonsense since I have become single. Judge not lest ye be judged…

We saw some movies. We cleaned the basement. We are painting my youngest kid’s bedroom. It is spring break here.

That’s all.

TTYL.

This is what we do while waiting for church to start...reverence..we got it.

This is what we do while waiting for church to start…reverence..we got it.

Spencer The Addict

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spencer the addict

They say we are only as sick as our secrets. I don’t know if this is his secret or mine….

Spencer spent the first 8 years of his life outside. When he was in, it was mainly in the mudroom. Then, he spent a year at my mother’s house in the village, where he accidently broke her knee, but that’s a story for a different day…. And when we moved in here, Spencer and Emma came home. They became suburban dogs. They began their transformation at my mother’s house where they had to learn to walk on leash and how to steal food off the counter rather than eat fish out of the creek. They developed a whole new set of skills. Emma eventually learned that she was now a kept dog and she would be fed and walked. She just had to be patient. Emma is a good, smart dog. Spencer is a fart.

Don’t misunderstand, Spencer always had a tendency toward theft. Even when we lived in the woods and he had his fill of critters, he would take every opportunity to steal people food. He did the typical “turkey pull” where the dog pulls the cooked turkey off the counter. The difference being, he pulled it down and swallowed the 14 pound bird whole. He may be part snake as his bottom jaw unhinges and he’s a sneaky, sometimes slimy mutt. I’m not kidding, for a 120 pounds, this dog is fast!!

Spencer eats anything and everything he can. He loves garbage, dead animals are his nirvana, and…. candy. He is a chocoholic. Every year we had an easter egg hunt with about 30 kids and their families. I made a huge ham dinner and I knew better than to let the dogs in the house. I put the 20 bags of candy in the mud room not knowing that Spencer was what he was which is insane. He ate 10 bags of easter candy tinfoil and all before I caught him. Of course, the entire world told me he would die, as chocolate is deadly to dogs in large quanties. What he whole world didn’t know was he is a Coon Hound Disease survivor so I figured he’d survive this too, if only by sheer stupidity and will power. At the same time, if the chocolate had killed him then, after taking care of his paralyzed ass for months on end, I would have been severely pissed. Luckly Spencer didn’t know that chocolate was poison. The only effect the chocolate had on Spence was a sugar high, followed by a sugar low and then alot of diarrhea. He likes to go all out on the holidays. Thank you Easter Bunny. Bawk Bawk!

Obviously from that day on, I knew there was no more being careless with food. Spencer had an addiction and me, being the codependent enabler I am, stepped right up to the challenge of keeping him sober or at least keeping him from eating us out of house and home. But for that year that he and Emma lived with my mother, I became lax. We could actually sit down to dinner without one of us having to keep lookout for a sneak attack from the dog. We would actually leave bread on the counter, a bowl of candy stayed right where we put it.

And then they came home. And I do believe Spencer was bolder and less apologetic than before. He felt entitled to help himself to whatever he wanted. The kids and I began to live like we were in prison. We eat with one arm around our plates and our eyes ever shifting back and forth waiting for that hot doggy breath on our legs, signaling that he is about to take what is ours. Bringing groceries in is a 3 person job now. One to stand guard in the kitchen, one to stand guard at the car door and one to actually bring the groceries in. When heating something up, there is no way to put it down and answer the phone, or the door. If the kids aren’t there to protect the food, I can’t get the door or answer the phone. Or if I do, it is with food in my hands. Bowls filled with meatloaf, hot pans of lasagna, plates of brownies, that how I greet guests to my home, not because I am suzy homemaker, but because if I turn my head, that damn dog will have scarfed down every scrap.

I am considering doing an intervention and sending him to rehab.