I thought we could handle it. I thought it was time. I thought it would be fun, and cute, and therapeutic. I was wrong. Very, very wrong.
My daughter’s been asking for a dog since she learned to talk. She loves dogs. Every time we see someone walking a dog, she asks if she can pet it. Every time she sees a picture of a dog, she goes on and on about how cute it is. Every time she thinks about a dog, she asks when we’ll get one. And we’re dog people, so naturally we planned to get a dog.
We waited for the kids to get old enough. My daughter’s almost seven and my son’s almost four, so we figured they were ready. We made a plan. We would get a doggie door. We would build a fence. I’d done the due diligence. I was ready. We were ready.
I started to look for rescue dogs to adopt. I looked for a poodle mix that was medium-sized. We wanted a smart dog who didn’t shed and would be good with the kids. I would have loved a small dog but we have huge hawks in our backyard and they’ll attack any animal smaller than twenty pounds. It’s true. I looked it up. read more
As you ascend our stairs, the photos on the walls tell the story of our family. The photos from long ago (okay, ten years) show my husband and I, thinner, younger and surrounded by friends. They’re pictures of parties and festivals and debauchery – there’s a picture of my husband trying to eat the “Chest Mix” in my cleavage. Everyone’s always holding up a glass. There are pictures of weddings and christenings – family’s, friends’ and our own. There’s one wedding picture we have to take down because the couple’s divorced. There’s a photo of a friend I lost ten years ago. There are pictures of friends that grew apart. read more
Sometimes things just come together. And thank God they do. Since I had returned from my dad’s last week, I’d been working on his finances, trying to find a way to pay for his 24-hour home care. When I brought him a check for the first week of care, he took one look at the amount and refused to sign it. “This should be covered,” he said. (See “I shall not be charged”) I promised to try to get it covered and by the time I left, I lied and said that I had. read more
Hereditary Insanity has been chosen to compete with the Top 100 Mommy Bloggers by Coupon Audit. Please take a moment to vote for the blog, that is, if you think it’s worthwhile. If I win, it would be an amazing accomplishment, especially to present to publishers when I’m trying to sell my book. I really appreciate everyone who reads this blog. It blows my mind, actually. Thanks for reading! Here’s the link. I’m number 75: Top 100 Mommy Bloggers
I hate school. I hate pencils. I hate books. I hate teachers, dirty looks. My oldest kid hasn’t even started school and I’m already at odds with the system. She should have already started kindergarten, but the school district deems her too young by a couple of months and they wouldn’t even let her test in. (See “Parenting 101: Letting go“) I learned about that last February and I’m still pissed off. read more
We snuck off to New York last month. We didn’t tell my father. We visited my birth family and best friend, but we did not visit my dad. I wasn’t trying to punish him. He did it to himself. I told him that my birth mother wanted to buy us plane tickets to visit and he said, “Don’t go taking money from her. You’re getting too involved. She wants to mother you. She has a mother complex.” read more