God Bless Texas... But Damn!

I am not a native Texan, I married one, and then gave birth to one. In fact, my Texan husband moved to my home state to find a wife and bring her home. When I tell people that story here in Texas, I always end it with, "Ta da!"

I always knew from the time I was little that I wouldn't live out my life in my home state. It felt like home, but it didn't feel like Home. I always felt like I was supposed to live somewhere bigger and better.

On our first date, DH asked me if I was attached to my home state. My answer, and the one that made me an automatic candidate for a second date, "Hell no!" He still laughs about my response to this day.

We ended up staying there for two years after we got married, first because I couldn't get married and then up and leave my family and everything I knew. I needed to adjust to being married while still in a comfort zone. Then I got a new job and needed to stick it out for at least a year because I knew doing so would pave the way for better, higher paying jobs in Texas. It did.

So almost two and a half years after we were married, we were relocated to Texas. I loved it right away. It felt instantly like Home. The place I would raise my children (if I ever got any), and live out my days. I adjusted quickly, and then good news after good news greeted me, which made it that much easier to get used to.

All of that being said, there are a few things I don't like about Texas.

1. ALLERGIES! - I have never had allergies in my life. Here, one of my best friends is my bottle of Zy.rtec. Everyone told me that if you aren't from around here, you will have allergies for the first few years. They were right. Have you ever had the roof of your mouth itch from allergies? Mine does. I scratch it with my finger and my tongue as best as I can, which usually leaves a welt.
2. Flea and Tick Medication for the Dogs - In my home state, I never ever had to think about flea and tick medication. I'm from the Northwest where it is too cold to worry about those pesky pests. Even mosquitoes weren't a problem unless you were in the mountains. Do you have any idea how much flea and tick medication costs for two dogs? It makes me and my wallet cry every month. Not only that, but my dogs only needed HeartG.uard April-November at home. Here they need it year round. I didn't know you could buy that stuff in a 12 month supply until I moved here.
3. Hot @$$ Summers - Being from a state where it isn't uncommon for the temps to hit 106 in the summer with zero humidity, I thought I knew what a hot summer was. Boy have I learned the hard way! It got up to 103 here last summer with 60%+ humidity. DAILY. It is gorgeous here, beautiful and lush green, but it gets so stinking hot you can't set foot outside to enjoy it without looking like you just got out of the shower within 5 minutes of setting foot outside.

So that's it. Its not bad that there are only a few things I don't like here. It stacks up well against all of the reasons I didn't like my last home state. I have to say though, I didn't expect things to be more expensive here for me. The cost of living isn't more, but the fact that I have to keep a constant stock of allergy meds and meds for the dogs sure makes me a little sad. If those are the only things I don't like, I guess I will live out my life here, as planned.

God bless Texas!

To Noelle

Dear, sweet Noelle,

I have been thinking about you all day. You have been very much in my thoughts and prayers. My heart is heavy for you, yet it holds out hope. It isn't over yet. The fat lady hasn't quite made it up onto the stage yet to sing. All day seemed really gray, and for the first time in a while, I felt somewhat down, because I was thinking of you. It was really cold here today, colder than it has been since I moved here, and somehow, it seemed appropriate to my mood.

I thought about writing you a comment, but it would be a mile long. I thought perhaps a blog post would be best. Now if I can just remember everything I wanted to tell you. I'll give it a try.

The first thing I wanted to tell you is to obviously not give up hope yet. God works miracles, and he hasn't forsaken you. He would never forsake you. He is with you right now weeping. And yes, I am sure He gets tired of weeping too. But He is there with you, holding you. Please let Him back in. You need His help to get through this.

If this pregnancy doesn't work out, then you take your time and you grieve. You cry all of the tears you need to cry. You take as many days as it takes until you start feeling better. Just don't wallow for too long. Keep an eye toward recovering and getting better. If you don't feel it one day, don't push yourself too hard. Instead tell yourself you will try tomorrow. Know that eventually, you will heal, and you will move forward with your life and trying for future pregnancies.

Know that while you have had a miscarriage, it doesn't mean you will always miscarry. There are so many options out there. The answer may be simple. You won't know until you try. Maybe a medicated IUI when you are ready will be the key. Who knows? You need to hold out some glimmer of hope. Without it, there is nothing.

As for the comment that upset you, please let it roll off your back. The mentality of an eye for an eye never got mankind anywhere but a bunch of blind people. I once had someone leave a negative comment on my other blog. It made me so angry I was shaking. My commenter didn't have the balls to leave it under their name though. It was anonymous. It took me days to get over it. Then one day I just decided since she was such a gutless wonder that she had to leave an anonymous comment, she wasn't worth the energy or another thought. I didn't need the negativity she brought into my life. I am not sure of the intention behind your commenter, perhaps she was trying to help and perhaps not. One can never be truly sure. It is like trying to analyze poetry. Only the author knew the true meaning behind their work. Be upset if you need to, but then let it go for your health. Please.

I have no idea the pain you are in, but I can imagine. I can imagine how you could be so upset as to wish you weren't alive. In those moments, know that there are so many people out here who care about you and that we are all here to help you get back on your feet. We may not know you in person, but we know you because we've all been through a piece of what you're going through, and on some level, we can completely empathize. We are all here for you. The sheer number of comments and the outpouring of love and support is proof of that. You are in so many people's thoughts and prayers. We're all rooting for you.

I wish and pray so very fervently that you will one day soon realize your dream of becoming a mother. I know first hand the excruciating pain brought on by not being able to realize the one dream that should be our God-given rite. But I know that potential pain on a whole new level now. I pray that you will be blessed with a child and all of the good that comes with it. The way it changes you and your life. I thought of you a lot tonight, and my heart ached for you. It was so heavy.

If I were there with you, I would hold you while you wept, and I would weep with you. My heart is weeping with you now. But I still have that little glimmer of hope. And if it turns out this time isn't your time, then that glimmer will be there for next time, and so will I.

I wish that I could be there with and for you. I wish that when you were ready, I could bring you your favorite candy and a chick flick we could watch together. Anything to help pick you back up and put you back on your feet. Since I can't be there in person, know I am here online and you can contact me via email.

You are and have been very much in my thoughts and prayers.

With much love,
Saige

The Farty Dog

Yes, the title of this blog post is correct. It is all about The Farty Dog. Not to be confused with The Sa.lty Do.g or Sal.t Dog. Although this dog is often called The Bleu Dog (yes, I spelled that correctly) because she looks similar to this famous fella.


But no, I am here to talk about a serious problem with my pooch. You see, she is a very, very flatulent little girl. I have never in my life had a dog that passed gas as much as my little Maxy. Hearing or smelling one of her bum treats is a daily occurrence. It used to make me laugh so hard I could barely breathe. Mostly because I had never heard or smelled a dog fart before her. But this little baby puts even the proudest man to shame.

You name the type, she does it: SBD (silent but deadly [she does this one REALLY, REALLY well {it makes you beg God for mercy}]), LAD (loud and deadly), LBND (loud, but not deadly), squeakies, Riffle (sounds similar to rifle fire "put, put, put, put, put"), Toot and Step (exactly what it sounds like, she toots every time a paw hits the floor), Sing You to Sleep (lets one long, squeaky one as she walks along), Puff (the kind where you just hear the little puff of air and wonder if you need to dawn the gas mask), and any others you can think of.

Her all time favorite is to precede you up the stairs and let a puffer in your face. She is always so proud of herself. She even turns around to see if you appreciated the gift. She toots when I'm on the phone, and guess who it sounds like ripped it? The dog never gets blamed, I can tell you that. Although I do try to blame a few of mine on her from time to time.

Despite her gaseous problems, I love my little Crazy Dog. She is such a joy in our house. She is so full of life and spunk. There is rarely a dull moment with her. Plus she is an AWESOME snuggler. So while she may stink on occasion or let one in my face, I think I'll keep her.

Noelle

One of my sweet blog friends is struggling today, thinking she might miscarry. Please go visit Noelle and send her some love and hearty wishes that her pregnancy will survive.

Hang in there Noelle. It isn't over yet!

Gah!

You know, I am kind of starting to miss my meaningful blog posts. The ones about life and my opinions on the matter. The funny thing is, when I was writing all of those, I was missing the ones about my life. The ones I felt made me interesting. I guess the bottom line is, I'm just not as interesting as I think I am.

With that little tangent out of the way, I can get into the meat of this post. If you hadn't already guessed, it is about my MIL.

Does it seem to anyone else like I tend to fixate on one person at a time? If so, toss that thought out. The only reason this one person keeps going is because I'm facing a dilemma.

If you read my last post you will know I don't like my MIL very much. She says she likes me, but I wonder how much of that is BS. I think about 99.99% just because her actions speak louder than her words.

My dilemma is that my daughter's first birthday is just around the corner and I would like to throw a big party for her. I talked to my mom tonight and agreed to use some of my sky miles and help fund the cost of a second ticket to fly my parents out for the big shin dig. I have already asked DH's aunts if they want to come. All of my friends will be there.

But I don't want to invite my MIL. I don't want her in my house (she's never been here). I don't want her tantrums and her moodiness ruining my daughter's special day (she stormed out at Christmas). My husband doesn't want her here either. No one does.

I asked DH how I could go about inviting his aunts, but not his mom. He told me he didn't care and didn't understand why I did. Well, because I'm not mean and I am certainly not confrontational. Not inviting her would result in a nasty gram. DH doesn't understand why I care if she sends one. I don't know why I do either. I haven't in the past.

I suggested we invite the aunts and ask them not to tell his mother they were invited, and if they come, that they were here. I know they will be on board with it. Even if they don't come, I KNOW I am going to get a nasty gram because my parents will be here. I wouldn't be surprised if I got a phone call even.

Does anyone have any advice on how to deal with a crazy MIL you don't want in your house? I am all ears!

She Vexes Me Greatly

Do any of you have any idea how many posts I have written, published, and then deleted off this blog? Me neither. All I know is that it is a lot. The reasons for their deletion vary from my fear of writing something about someone IRL and having them stumble across my blog and call me out to trying to rid myself of unpleasantness to thinking they were either just too boring for reading or made no sense.

The thing I'm getting at is I am not sure this post won't fall victim to deletion at some point, but for right now, I need to get this off my chest before I explode!

My relationship with my MIL is very strained, at best. I never really liked her. I tried, but not very hard. I've always just kind of floated along through our time together and tried to keep that at a bare minimum. I actually got away without seeing her or talking to her for two fabulous years. The reason I was able to go for so long is because she pissed me off too badly to want anything to do with her. Of course, that was while we were undergoing infertility treatments. She kept sending me snide emails about the causes of infertility such as being overweight (I weighed 123), drinking (never touched a drop in my life), drinking too much coffee (I don't drink that either), and a whole slew of other garbage. I will cut this story really short by saying she did a whole lot of things that finally made me tell her to go the F away. I had had it!

I'm going to leave out a lot of story here just to keep this post from getting too long.

At the end of last year she sent me an email. I thought she was trying to patch things up so that she could be a part of her grandbaby's life. She took me for the biggest roller coaster ride. One minute I thought she was being a B, and the next I thought she was apologizing only to turn around and be a shrew again.

By the time my daughter was born, we had both sworn to make an effort at mending the relationship. I have seriously doubted her true resolve to do so though. She can be a mean nasty ass woman for no reason at all. One minute I will think we're making progress and literally the next minute I want to smack her into next year for being a shrew again.

Most of our communication is via email. I should post some of her little ditties on here just so you all can laugh along with me. Most of her emails make my angry and want to cut off communication again, but the nice person in me won't let me.

She spent Christmas day with DH and I at his grandpa's house. The relationship between her and her father as well as her sister's is every bit as strained as the one between her and I and her son (did you get that? [i.e., no one likes her]). After we got home, I wrote up a post about Christmas day on my primary blog (which she reads) and forgot to mention her, but did mention her sisters. The next day I had an email in my inbox telling me that she did not appreciate the post because I mentioned her sisters, but even moreso because I did not mention her.

I thought my lack of mentioning her was the nicest thing I could do!

She asked that I not mention them on my blog anymore as it upsets her, but to please remember to mention HER. Umm, I'm sorry, but I thought it was MY blog. If you don't like it, don't read it. Please. For the love of God. Further, don't send me nasty emails because you don't like the content. I get it. I forgot to mention you, or rather chose not to mention you. There is a reason for that. Be glad.

Gah!

And this on top of the cheap ass Christmas present she gave me. I spent bucks on that woman. Her son didn't. I did because if I didn't, she wouldn't have gotten anything from us. My husband despises her. So what does she do? She buys him a really nice Christmas present and a ton of clothes for my daughter. Guess what she got me? A seriously ugly picture from the second hand store that probably cost her a nickle and a stupid bracelet. I really wish she hadn't gotten me anything and said that she spent my gift money on my daughter. That I could have handled and been happy about, but the gift she got me was a slap in the face and I think she knew it. It pissed me off so badly because she knows her son didn't spend one red cent on her, yet she went all out for him and everyone else at Christmas, including her sisters who despise her. The one person there on Christmas day who was even willing to think a smidgen of a happy thought about her was the person she snubbed. Good call lady. That's the way to mend the relationship with the mother of your only grandchild. Consider yourself cut off from here on out please.

I am so done being nice to her! It already pains me to be nice to her, but she is a spiteful B. I think she does it just to see what she can get away with, but I am sick of it. She wonders why no one likes her, and one of these days I will get the balls to tell her exactly why. She is this close - to being told. I'm not sure when I'll snap, but I know I will if she keeps her crap up.

DOUBLE GAH!

I really hate the energy she brings into my life, which is why I cut her off the first time. All she ever does is piss me off. I keep asking my coworkers if anyone wants her, but they always tell me no. I've told my dad I am going to take her to the pound one day, but he keeps telling me they will just put her to sleep. Why is that a problem?

I really am an easy person to get along with. In fact, I get along with the majority of people who cross my path. I am very easy going. The only thing I care about is if you are a good person. I don't care about anything else you have done in your past. I don't care if you don't like the same things as me or think the same way, I actually appreciate it. But one thing I cannot and will never tolerate is rudeness that is uncalled for. This woman takes that cake and builds it taller than most people I've ever had the displeasure of knowing.

Oh, and did I mention she came up in a reading with R? I didn't say anything about her and he told me out of the blue that my MIL was a crazy piece of work. I'm not kidding!

Anyway, that's my rant. I really don't know how to end this post other than to say, "Piss Off!" to my MIL.

P.S. The picture is now resting on top of the pile of junk going to Go.od Wi.ll.

Happy New Year!

I hope that 2010 brings you all happiness and peace. I pray that you get the things you most desire.

Rare butterflies emerging from their cocoons,

ready to start a new life.