By Robin Dearing
Wednesday, December 13, 2006
"Um, Mama, so how is Bing?'
I was standing in the bathroom trying to get myself together for work. It was exactly the question that I was hoping she wouldn't ask until after school today.
I tried to stifle my tears and figure out how I was going to explain that I had my sweet, old kitty put down last night.
I told her that his kidneys weren't working anymore and that the doctor had to put him to sleep.
"Does that mean that he's dead?" was her reply. I nodded yes.
She cried but still managed to brush her teeth and get herself ready to come to my work before she headed to school.
She'd be her normal self for a bit, then she'd tell me how sad she was.
"I wish you'd never taken him to that place," referring to the emergency veterinary clinic I found in the yellow pages.
After I explained that he was really sick and already dying, she said, "I wish you'd taken him there sooner."
But the fact is that old is old and nothing can turn back the hands of time.
I'd had that cat longer than I've been married to Bill (and longer than my first marriage, too).
I bought Bing from a pet store in Pennsylvania not because he was so cute I had to have him, but because I knew that no one else would buy him.
Pet stores that sell cats and dogs are often evil places where the animals are treated like merchandise. Bing was covered in fleas (something we, pet owners, in glorious Western Colorado have little worry over) and parrot poop as he seemed to like to hang out below the bird's cage. His fur was all matted and his head seems a couple sizes too big for his tiny body.
Who was gonna spend a bunch of money on a pure-bred Persian that was all pathetic looking? Oh right, me.
He turned out to be the cutest little guy, even if he was timid and goofy. He never exhibited the grace and dexterity that is innate to other cats. Instead, he would fall down or get stuck.
But he was sweet. And he did develop some talents. He could beg for cat treats like no other. He even learned how to scoop a treat off the coffee table with his paw and put it into his mouth.
I've never had to have a pet euthanized before and it was the suckiest decision I've ever had to make. Richie and I talked this morning about the passing of her kitty who died at home in October.
At home or at the vet's office, it sucks either way.
I've worked in animal hospitals before. I've seen cases where owners were unwilling to accept the inevitable. They would have procedure after procedure done in order to eek out a little more time with their pet.
I told myself a long time ago, that I would not do that to my pets. I wouldn't put them through costly and often futile treatments just to make myself feel better.
But even having that firm conviction and knowing that his kidney failure was chronic, I couldn't tell the veterinarian that that was my decision. Thankfully she figured it out and quickly it was over.
Nothing left to do now but grieve.
By Richie Ann Ashcraft
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
Saturday we loaded the kids into the car and drove to Fruita in hopes of seeing Santa without the hassle and long line.
Fruita was having their Christmas celebration and Parade of Lights. It included a free Santa in exchange for canned food. I really like the idea of Santa for charity and was happy to make the short drive. I figured it could go either way...he could smile happily or he could cry. Either way was just fine by me.
Here's what he did:
It is an odd tradition that parents bundle up their children to get a pic of them with a man in red suit. No wonder they are scared. What other time of the year would we just plunk our kids down on some strangely dressed man's lap, laugh as they cry, then take their picture? It's weird and they know it.
are pics of other kids crying on Santa's lap. It shouldn't be so funny this annual holiday torture but somehow it brings sick joy to parents around the world.
As always we'd love to see your kids with Santa. Email pics to Robin Dearing and we'll post them daily.
By Robin Dearing
Monday, December 11, 2006
I remember being asked, "And they didn't have a phone?" more than once by my parents while I was a teenager.
That question is pretty much obsolete. Now the question goes, "And you didn't have your phone with you?" Which is a trick question because now cell phones have chaperone features that allow parents to find the exact location of a cell phone.
The world of our teenagers just got a whole lot smaller.
But that's really the trend these days, smaller. Everything is smaller, phones, computers and the world, in general (just not people or cars).
With the new technology, we can stay in contact with people anywhere in the country or the world. The breadth of information available to our children is a blessing and a curse.
Margaret has been using our home computer to play educational video games online (PBSKids.org, noggin.com, etc.) since she was 3 years old.
She could open an Internet browser, go to favorites and pick the Web site she wanted even before she could read.
She knew the giant blue "e" would get her to Web. From there she could use her knowledge of the alphabet to get where she wanted to go.
Now she finds Web addresses on toy boxes, on television and on candy wrappers, which she diligently transcribes into her browser and navigates sites with little help from us.
This is great in that she can learn more about the things that interest her.
But it's scary because of all of the information out there that is not appropriate for children. She could easily stumble upon a site that contains images that could shatter her cocoon of innocence.
We do what we can to protect her but watching what she does and where she goes on the Web, but it never feels like enough.
I guess that is the moral behind the story of parenting; it never feels like you can do enough.
By Richie Ann Ashcraft
Friday, December 8, 2006
Soren and I made the trek across the desert to see my parents and grandma last weekend. Although it's only a four hour trip, I'm ashamed to say we don't make it often enough.
Soren is a great little traveler. He slept a good long stretch before needing a break. We stopped at a small town dive for lunch where he ate some burger and fries plus applesauce that I had stuffed in my purse. That's right...I carry emergency applesauce in my purse now.
I really enjoyed having lunch with him. I found myself wanting to whisk him off to spend some time together.
He's suffering from a bit of seperation anxiety at the moment. It took him awhile to warm up to his grandparents and great grandma (G.G.). It perhaps hurt their feelings initially but it was short lived.
He showed off his new stepping skills, danced to his Rock-with-Elmo radio, and played games with them. His grandparents showed him off to anyone willing to gush over him.
His G.G. tickled his belly while making this tttsss ttsss sound. I do that to him all the time and until that moment I had no idea why I do it that way. I realized it is because that is the way she tickled me.
It's funny how I find myself drawing from my own childhood experiences as a parent. I understand now the desire to share some of my childhood memories with Soren by recreating some of my favorite moments.
I watched with embarrassment as Soren pulled the lid off his snacks with his teeth and then dumped the entire contents on G.G.'s floor. Then he stuffed some contaminated morsels in his mouth. She just laughed. Had that been me as a little girl I would have been in trouble.
Poor baby barely had time for a nap with all the visiting and playing that needed to get done. Everyone was sorry to see him go.
I stopped again for a break and just a little bit more quality time. Did you ever notice that fast food is not for babies? I mean what can a baby eat at McDonald's? We opted for Wendy's chili since my purse was all out of applesauce.
I let Soren chew crackers, play with straws, and dump the salt. When I left I tried to clean the booth up as best I could when I realized that "Oh My God! I am one of those people with KIDS!" The ones who leave huge messes for others to clean up in fast food establishments. When did that happen?
On the way home I contemplated what one family friend had said to me. "May God let you borrow him a very long time." Isn't that true of grandparents and parents as well?
By Robin Dearing
Thursday, December 7, 2006
And she did have a bloody nose last night.
Notice how she used my red editing pen (she came to work with me this morning before school) to draw in the blood trickle coming out of her nose.
She loves my red editing pen and has been obsessed with the ink's similarity to blood for a couple of years now.
Here's a picture she drew when she was 4. When she was done drawing these little creatures, she happily announced that they were blood cats.
Then she went into a tirade about how my red pen was full of blood.
Now that I think about it, all her drawings that I keep on my desk border on the macabre.
Look at this one:
It's my dear, first-grader's interpretation of a scene from the TV show, "The Office"
where one of the characters burns his foot on a George Foreman grill.
And, of course, I can't forget the time that Margaret told my Haute Mama cohort, Lynn, about when her grandfather fell against their wood stove and "blood and steam came out." (She wasn't there when this occurred. She overheard the story and added the "blood and steam" part herself.)
It's all starting to make me wonder if she's got some kind of proclivity for blood. If so, I hope she ends up as a phlebotomist and not one of those pale pseudo vampire people who dress in black all the time.
By Richie Ann Ashcraft
Wednesday, December 6, 2006
"That's not how it goes," said my sister-in-law.
"Paddy Cake. It goes: Mark it with an S for Soren and me!" said as she pats his little hands together.
"Once upon a time," I start as Soren settles down for a nap.
"There were three little pigs..."
"Who were brothers I think..."
"And then there was a wolf and the pigs needed to build some houses to keep the things out."
"So one built it out of mud. And the wolf came along and huffed and puffed and blew his house down. The pig ran to his brother's house and said 'let me in let me in' and he did."
"Then the wolf blew his house down 'cuz it was made of sticks," and they ran to the other brother's house and said "let me in let me in."
"Then the wolf huffed and puffed but couldn't blow the house down cuz it was made of bricks. So the wolf climbed the roof."
Wait, was that Little Red Riding Hood
? 'Cuz there's a wolf in that story too. There's a lot of wolves in these nursery rhymes, I think to myself.
"So the wolf climbs in the chimney but the pigs had started a fire and cooked a pig pot of soup. And the wolf fell in and got cooked! The end."
"Hey Richie..." Loverhubby asks, "How's Jack and Jill go?"
Do they have such a thing as Nursery Rhymes for Dummies
Tuesday, December 5, 2006
Alex has been waiting for snow since the final flake melted last spring.
Like a true Coloradoan, he’s been on the slopes since he was four years-old. He started on skis and did the edgie-wedgie thing with other babes in bibs while his Haute Mama braved the blue runs in a women’s ski class.
At the age of seven he moved onto snowboarding and hasn’t looked back. One beautiful sunny day about four years ago, I drove up to Powderhorn with Alex and a couple of his fellow boarders. By late afternoon I was feeling good and my turns were looking even better.
“Hey Al, let’s do Snow Cloud and then call it a day.”
“Mom, you know it’s a black run.”
Duh. I’ve skied Equalizer with the best of them. It’s a black run too. Besides - and here are the words that never should have escaped my lips – “If YOU can do it, so can I.”
So down we go, Alex, his two buddies and The Mom. Let me just say that Alex has his own version of this story, but mine is true.
First turn, no problem. I’m in front of them and look back. They seem to be doing OK. I negotiate the first mogul and think those ski lessons were worth every penny! I glance back at the kids and they are struggling to keep up with me, but look like they’ll make it. Second mogul coming up and I look back to check on them.
Now here’s something they failed to tell us in the lessons – never, NEVER, look back over your shoulder when a big-ass mogul is in front of you.
The sound I heard next is one I’ve heard a couple other times in my life. It’s enough to make you lose your lunch. The sound of cartilage twisting and snapping and tearing and popping. It’s not a pretty sound, and it has always been accompanied by a string of obscenities and considerable pain.
That moment was no different.
I sank at an awkward angle down into the snow and had two thoughts.
“How am I going to get off this mountain? And how am I going to drive these kids home?”
OK, I had a third thought too. “Geez, I hope nobody saw that.”
Alex and his buds caught up to me. He seemed genuinely concerned.
“Hey Mom, can we go get the ski patrol? They’ll let us ride back up on the snow cat!”
“No son, I can walk down.” Delirium had already set in.
I tried to stand and realized that was not gonna happen. “OK, fine go get them. But take Kyle with you in case you get hurt.” Ha! I was still the lead dog and in charge of the youngsters.
Long story short, the poor guys on the ski patrol hauled my now-frozen butt all the way back down the mountain in the toboggan. They had no problem with the moguls and even laughed and joked as they gasped for breath. After a check for broken bones they set me free and I did manage to drive all the kids home safely. And yes, they loved the ride on the snow cat.
The moral of the story is, when you’re in your 4th decade of life, think twice before you try to keep up with kids who are barely out of their first. You don’t heal as fast, and you fall farther.
People tell me that Alex is a pretty darn good boarder. I wouldn’t know since I haven’t been on the same runs with him since that fateful day. He does runs with scary names like Death Wish and Bone Yard and Psycho Boy and Not For Yo’ Momma. He goes places that I would rather not know about. Am I concerned for his safety? You betcha. Do I trust his judgment? Umm, yeah, right up until he does something that gets him hurt or hurts someone else.
So each time he gets in the lift line, I implore his guardian angels to stay with him. He’s worn out more than a few in his lifetime but they’re doing a good job keeping up with him. Let’s just hope they don’t look back over their shoulder and that they negotiate mogul fields far better than me.
P.S. When the slopes open this weekend, I’ll be basking in the sun in Maui. I’ll skip the surfing.
By Robin Dearing
Monday, December 4, 2006
Finally a weekend that wasn't completely full of activities. I think it's going to be the last one for a while so we really took advantage of it by sticking around the house for the most part.
We did a little shopping (I hate to sound boastful, but I'm pretty much done with my Christmas shopping. Go me!), we ate out and generally just horsed around.
We spent a lot of time with Margaret. Many times recently, I've caught her just being really good: reading, drawing, playing by herself. It feels so great ... like I've done something right.
But then there were those times when she was difficult and petulant.
A practice run through of her upcoming piano recital music for our friends, ended up with her sobbing in her room.
I am always disappointed when Margaret acts up in front of company (or anytime really). I realize that she's a person with emotions and moods and she can't be perfect all of the time. But I want our friends and family to see what a bright, funny, well-behaved child she is so much of the time.
It's like the fact that our ever-goofy dog ALWAYS jumps and licks and sits on anyone who comes over in a mad attempt to prove that she is the most desperate and needy dog that ever existed. But when it's just us at home, she sits calmly with us on the couch or plays in the backyard with or without our kid and generally is a good dog.
I wonder if the key lies with me and my behavior ... gah, if that's the case then we are all doomed to being seen as socially unpleasant miscreants.
By Robin Dearing
Friday, December 1, 2006
Don't know what to give those that have everything and need nothing? Click on over to Shutterfly.com
where you can make great quality photo calendars, card and even books.
I love to give presents, especially to my husband. When his first Father’s Day rolled around I spent a lot of time thinking of that perfect gift. I thought, “what if I could make him a book or something.” So, I Googled “make my own book” or something like that and came up with Shutterfly.com.
It looked simple enough to upload pictures, add captions and the price was right. I spent the next few days sneaking pics and uploading them onto the Web site. I spent a lot of time choosing my words and pics carefully. I pushed the check-out button and crossed my fingers it wasn’t going to be junk.
And it SO wasn’t. I had it shipped to work and showed ALL of my coworkers. I had the book in one week from the time I ordered it. The pages are glossy, the photos are beautiful, and it is one of the best presents I have ever given to anybody.
He was flabbergasted. Tears flowed I tell ya. I doubt that I will ever get that reaction from a gift again. Yeah, it’s that good!
So good I’ve told all my friends. My book started a Shutterfly frenzy here at The Daily Sentinel as coworkers began making their own books for family reunions, new babies and best friends.
I also made Christmas cards using Shutterfly this year with pics of our family. They turned out lovely as expected. Today my sister-in-law called to tell me how beautiful she thought the card was.
Following Richie's lead, I went to the Shutterfly
Web site to create some Christmas gifts for my hard-to-shop-for in-laws.
I found the site very easy to navigate and uploading pictures is a breeze. I was able to upload a whole bunch of pictures that I organized into a book.
The site has lots of nice backgrounds, fonts and colors to personalize your project. They even have a feature that will autoload your pictures into the book template, if you don't have the time to organize it yourself. You can personalize it as much or as little as you want.
Richie is not exaggerating the quality. They sell a really nice product.
And they don't just do books. You can get calendars, cards and photo prints (for .19 each!). When I opened my account, I got 15 free 4x6 prints! Plus you can host your photos so you can share them online as well.
Shutterfly is a user-friendly, affordable, high-quality shop. I highly recommend them.
I hope I get a digital camera for Christmas this year ...
Thursday, November 30, 2006
OK, so I have this “friend” who has a son the same age as my son.
Her son, like many teenagers, is plagued with what one might call severe, persistent acne. Her son has been on different prescription medications for about 6 months now to no avail. Her son claims the acne doesn’t bother him, and indeed it doesn’t seem to. However, it really bugs my friend. She thinks people will think badly of her for not taking her son to a dermatologist for treatment, when in fact she has. She is also concerned about the long term effects like permanent scarring, infections and the like. So she took her son back to the dermatologist who, after a lively discussion amongst the three of them, recommended the prescription drug Accutane.
Her son was thrilled. “One pill once a day and that’s it? Yeah baby, I’m all over that. Let’s do it!” My friend was a little less enthralled and became slightly alarmed when the doctor ticked off the possible side effects.
“Yes, Accutane is great because you’re on it for 4 months and then virtually done. But the side effects include pancreatitis, liver failure, stroke, muscle and joint pain and weakness, psychosis, depression, suicide, slowed bone growth, vision impairment, hearing impairment and long term diarrhea. Plus, you must have blood tests to check for liver function before and every 30 days during treatment.” The doctor then went on to explain the drug is only dispensed, by law, in 30-day doses so people are sure to get their required blood work done.
They let this stuff on the market? For god’s sake - heroin is less dangerous. And a lot
less expensive, too.
Oh, and just so you know, if you’re female it can cause serious birth defects should you become pregnant during and for a short time after treatment. Well, at least my friend and her son didn’t have to add that to the list.
After weighing the “rare but potentially severe” side effects, my friend and her son decided to give it a go. Her son was only concerned about the liver failure but figured it wasn’t going to happen overnight and that’s why you had the blood tests. My friend was concerned about all of it. I mean the whole purpose of the drug is cosmetic and you’re potentially risking life and limb? My friend did a lot of research and even looked up the clinical trials. Is 1% statistically significant? Chicken pox vaccines carry a higher potentially dangerous risk than that. But what if you’re the 1%? Is the upside of being “cured” of acne and all that it carries with it through your formative-in-every-way years worth the risk?
What would you do?