I Wish I was A Lazy Housewife

I'm having a rare moment of clarity this morning, so welcome to my brain dump. Got to take advantage of these windows while I can anymore!

I wasn't always blessed to be able to stay at home with my children. I had to work until my first born was 2 1/2 and his baby sister was 6 months. I have done my fair share of bringing in money when it needed to be brought in. In home child care, cakes, whatever the need be.  God has always provided. I had goals like any woman. I dreamed of the day when my kids would head back to school and I would myself head off to school and grab myself a diploma and a career. I've been called though. I've been called to be domesticated. It is the only thing I KNOW I'm good at. I can cook, clean, get 3 kids to 3 different places all at the same time, and still manage to wash my hair before the week is up. I do not regret for one moment momming and wifing. Heck, I've made threats to them that I will go find a job if they don't get it together or do their part.

Harsh reality, they're empty threats. I'll never be able to go back to work and hold down a job. I'm not dependable in that sense. The choice to do so has been robbed from me and replaced with disease and guilt.

I'm a type A personality. I have to control what is around me. If it starts to fall off pace, so do I. This makes it very difficult for someone with a chronic illness that has to live day to day. Just the simple stress of sitting here worrying about the fact that I need to do my laundry so my family doesn't have to do it for me (because it's my job) will send me into a sadness and flair up. I'm trying to put my focus on prayer and meditation when it comes to these things because it is so counterproductive of the goals I am trying to achieve health wise.  I am having to learn to let go, let others in to help, let change happen. It has not been an easy thing for me to accept.

I finally got into the doc. We've been waiting a few months and at the end of this month we will begin our long drives/flights to begin treatment again after 4 years.

Time to get my house in order. Literally and figuratively.

So, here is here I segway into my title.
I like Snapchat. It's silly fun. My kids are on it. My friends are on it. It's not the devil. I could go deeper into this subject, but oh look a squirrel.
I sent out some snaps early yesterday morning of me in my facemask with my hair wrapped in a towel and I'm in a bathrobe. I expected silly comments. What I didn't expect was a message that said, "I wish I had your life. As I sit here at work."
Ouch. Gut punch. Okay. I am blessed no doubt. I have great kids, super parents, a husband that I'm afraid will work himself to death one day for all of us.(make note because I will come back to this) We need and want for nothing. See, I snap when I feel good. I instagram a selfie when I have actually had the energy to fix myself up. Because I feel accomplished. You do NOT want to see me the other 5-6 days a week. Just the day before I was stuck in bed because the night before that, my husband had to pick me up off the bathroom floor and put me in bed. Shortly after that, I vomited. I then spent the rest of the night sweating and having tremors. I cannot recall my address on a dime most days anymore. The shooting pain, cramping, and popping is making it almost impossible to get through the day without some kind of breakdown. I can no longer read long articles or get through a movie. I'm just tired. Eating hurts. It literally burns my stomach. Oh and the guilt? My husband is working himself to death, then coming home and helping out with what are supposed to be MY responsibilities.
I shove along anyway. I may go out with him this Friday night. I may pay dearly for it on Saturday and Sunday. I may sit in weather I have no business sitting in to watch my daughter's soccer games. I may continue to give little pieces of myself and time to others that I don't really have to spare. I may continue to help in anyway I can, because being a homemaker isn't just what I do, it's who I am. I do not want life to pass me by. I've lost so much time already.
So, be very careful when you say you "wish you had my life." I wouldn't wish this disease on anyone. I WISH my excuse was that I was just a lazy and privileged housewife.

"You can't get much done in life if you only work on the days when you feel good." Jerry West

When It Rains (Literally and A Matter of Figurative Speech)

Texas got hit hard in the rain department in May and beginning of June. So much that our lakes and rivers that have been suffering drought for the past several years are back up. Great for business. Sadly, it came at the expense of some lives and damages. Here are a few Texas sized statistics to help you fathom just how much record-breaking rain we had just in May alone.

So, you see there was a bunch. We do everything big here. Go big or go home.

Our home was spared flood waters. Despite our backyard looking like a pond. We had a snake. I should say SNAKE. Cause it was big. A good size turtle. Oh there was a blue heron out there one day too. That either means we had small fish or the heron mistook our land for a body of water.

We did end up with some water in the house though from the constant non-stop run off from our roof on the back patio. It came in through the back door. I had told my husband I could smell mold. Mold and Lyme are symbiotic. As El Nino set it and the rains let up, things started to dry out. We had to first tackle the water coming in the house. Hubster built a covered porch. I LOVE IT. * hashtag props*.(so that worked out.) We then had to fix the threshold to the french doors as the other was rotted and then remove our entire livingroom floor. Some of the smell was in the kitchen cabinets as well, so the ALL needed a fresh painting and relining of shelving anyway. So, a month later we have a new porch, a fresh kitchen, no mold, and a beautiful new living laminate floor in teak. My husband was even able to take some time to make a quick trip to our favorite river, the Guadalupe, for a whitewater rafting experience. For the past 3 years that river has ran under 100 CFU's give or take and the first day we drove up, his trip was actually cancelled and the CFU's was over 6000. He ended up rafting at about 3400.

It has been refreshing to say the least, to be able to breath the fresh air in the house. I have been moving much better for now. The flair ups seem to be at bay (keeping with the water theme).

As the month of June started to wind down and we transitioned into July, we have entered with heavy hearts. We had to lay down our family boxer, Arabelle, the Monday after July 4th. She was 11 years old.

I did not have the pleasure of coming into her life until she was 4 years old, as my husband had her before he and I met, but for the past 7 years her and I spent every day together. She slobbered, she passed gas like an old man, she would stink, she would scale a fence, she would get into the trash, she would snore so loud that our walls would rattle. I would sometimes get up to lay on the couch at night because of the snoring in my room (I will not name any names). Only to be welcomed with more snoring from the sweet pup.

Our youngest daughter once asked, "Daddy, why does Arabelle snore?"  "Because she's fat." He replied. To which she sassed back with, "Is that why you snore?"

She was the dog from sandlot. She looked ferocious and probably would have been if tested, but never snapped. Just slobbered and licked. In her mind she was the worlds smallest lapdog. She walked you. You didn't walk her. She had been through heat stroke, cancer and as of 6 months ago a larynx that was collapsing.

When it was steak night for us, it was steak night for her too, and she knew it. She would patiently wait for us to finish so she could devour hers in a split second.

I'm still having the most difficult time adjusting to the silence. She was soooo loud! I want to run home and let her outside, wake up and take care of her. Feel her stare at me when I watch TV. But we had to let her rest. Last week she started shutting down. She no longer could eat or drink. We continued to offer through the weekend and even Monday morning one last time. Saturday morning, under my new porch, her and I were outside. I was having my coffee and reading. She just laid by my feet. Sunday morning, I got on the floor with her. Talked to her. She just looked at me. Placed her paw on my shoulder. Like she was telling me it was okay. Then she went inside her kennel and laid down. We all gathered around her Monday morning. We loved her and Kenneth and I took her down and talked with our vet and made the decision. It was one of the hardest things I have ever seen my husband do. I sat on the floor with her in his lap until she fell asleep under the sedation and kissed her goodbye. I then left the room. He stayed with her through out the rest. I know we did the right thing by her. She was suffering. So, why does is hurt so damn much? I didn't think I would hurt this much. I found myself on the bathroom floor last night at about 2AM just crying. Dogs teach us unconditional love. They are so quick to forget. So quick to forgive. They do not hold a grudge for you scolding them yesterday for busting out of the kennel and eating the kitty litter (why do they even do that????). They don't plan tomorrow. They just live in the here and now. Happy.  Even on the days when they are sick. They are dying, they are living for their master. We could really learn a lot from our canine companions. My tears are free flowing right now. My heart is full of emotion. This is a pain I have never experienced before. You brought us joy you crazy dog. Go leap 20 foot fences with ease and have 40 oz porterhouse steaks. You will be missed.