Go Dog Go

Go Dog Go is the very first book I ever read. Agreed, I probably memorized it from my dad reading it to me so many times, but still, it was my favorite. If you've never read it, you should- it's beginner's reading book and it's fantastic. It's basically about dogs in cars. And at the end they go to a party. One of my earliest memories is crawling onto my dad's lap and reading this together. To this day, it's still his favorite story to tell about my childhood.

With Father's Day coming up, I felt that I should dedicate a blog to my dad, and all dads/daddies/papas/pops out there! I am my dad's only biological child, and I got a lot of attention. I had one of those hands-on dads- he was never too busy to play, teach me how to ride my bike, read to me, or prune me to be a CMSU graduate. We baked cakes together one night a week, which would feed the family during snacks for the rest of the week.

My dad was at every school function, even when I was in 5th grade and got the "lead role" in a silly skit about the sun and the moon, and no other parents came, but both of my parents and grandparents were there! He even almost got fired when he told his boss that he'd be taking the morning off to take me to my first day of kindergarten. We played a duet together at my piano recital. We watched South Park in its very early days (much to my mother's dismay). When he bought a racecar (I'm still convinced that was a midlife crisis) I sat in the stands and cheered for him every week.

My dad's my best friend- he gets me like no one really does. I'm proud to be his daughter, and I'm proud to have a dad like him- because he's the "cool dad". Everyone who meets him tells me how awesome he is. What I really like is the way he can meet and talk to anyone and instantly that person likes him. He calls it his "salesman ability". I see a lot of my dad in Adam, even though at the beginning I didn't see it. All the things I love about my dad- I love about Adam, too.

Happy Father's Day, Daddy.

Love, Gully

I fell in love over the weekend.

I fell in love with Adam all over again this weekend. I think that there's some sort of camraderie that forms when you work side by side together. I've noticed how close I feel to him when we work out at the gym, and it was the same kind of bond that we had as we unpacked and organized donations this weekend.

We cried together as we drove through Joplin, we got angry together when we saw tourists snapping pictures of the rubble. As we met his family, he smiled at me with this geniune adoration as I told stories I've told a million times. A weekend away from the hustle and bustle of our routine and our every day lives was exactly what we needed.

When I look at his grandfather, I see Adam. I can imagine Adam at 90 years old, because that's Chester. He's wise, smart, cultured, and witty. He loves his family but he's anything but naive. Last week someone said to me, "Adam really is charming. The first time I met him, I knew he was very intelligent." That's exactly how I felt when I met him. He was well-read; an eloquent speaker; he was wonderful. He is wonderful.

He makes me smile and laugh, and I am so glad we had this weekend together because it really put us back together. The stresses of our lives melted away. It was the simple things this weekend; driving together for three hours; stopping at the cheese factory for samples and Adam telling me he'd buy me the $13 block of Gruyere if I wanted it, and me, politely declining because it was too much; getting Olive Garden desserts to go and sitting with our legs crossed on the bed, plastic silverware in front of us, Adam spooning himself a bite and then watching the look on my face when I tasted the delicious cake. He smiles- a geniune, loving, sweet, wonderful smile. It's easy. It isn't forced.

He adores me, and I kinda like him too.

Home Sweet Home (A Reflection)

Today is the last day of my weekend, and we are finally home from Joplin. I am still so deeply troubled by what I saw there. I took a fully charged camera with me, but I didn't snap a single picture. I had intended on taking pictures and sharing what I saw with friends and family. However, once we got there, it was a whole different feeling. I felt like a voyeur as we drove past families in their yards, amid rubble and memories of their whole lives. I instantly felt that taking pictures of people's devastation and pain was disrespectful of the dead and the living.

The first day that we were in Joplin, we drove down Rangeline Rd. I thought what I saw there was the extent of the damage, but I was so very wrong. On Rangeline, part of the business district, tops of buildings were caved in, a chinese restaurants 20 ft tall metal sign was twisted and bent, lying parallel to the ground.

As we turned onto 20th St to drive to dinner,  I soon realized that Rangeline was lucky. 20th St had more damage that anything I had seen so far. Houses were flattened; naked tree branches jutted into the blue sky, with blunt edges, severed with chainsaws. Eerie sights were abound- free standing refrigerators, bricks in toppled messes, branches... street signs were gone, and the street names were spray painted onto the asphalt, giving direction to travelers who couldn't find their way... even Joplin residents who had grown up on the streets were lost on the wrecked streets.

At night we pulled into our hotel parking lot, next to a van with all of its windows blown out. They were covered with plastic bags, and the inside was filled to the brim with all of the remnants of their lives. Clothes, dishes, anything that could be salvaged from their home, was now in their van. In front of the room was the family, a man in a wheelchair with a broken leg. I gave him a sympathetic smile and he returned it. My heart ached for him.

We take our lives for granted sometimes, and my experience in Joplin has made me hold Adam a little closer, spend a little more time with my family and be grateful, and so thankful for my home, job, car, belongings. Knowing that it could be wiped away in one powerful storm is the most humbling experience of all.

I'll end on a happy note: Joplin is struggling, but they have resolve. They are a city of great courage and I admire them. God loves Joplin- people from all over have rallied together to help this city pick up the pieces. Free food was given out on every street corner- churches, civic organizations, kids, senior citizens- they gave what they could. They gave their time, energy, money, donations- as if to say, "You're not alone in this, Joplin. We love you."

A Volunteer's Heart

On May 22, 2011, a powerful tornado swept through Joplin, MO, crushing a path six miles wide. While a tornado is devastating to any town, it takes on a whole new meaning when the town is close to your heart. I had never been to Joplin before I met Adam. His family is here- his parents both grew up here- and when we started dating we started coming to Joplin to visit his aunt and grandparents. I fell in love with Joplin- and when the tornado struck, I felt helpless- but I still wanted to help. Now we're here, almost two weeks later, and the destruction can't be put into words.

We arrived this morning and went to MSSU where we reported for volunteer service. We were informed that fieldwork (IE debris cleanup) was already full, so we would be going to a "warehouse" to sort through donations. I prayed that this warehouse was air-conditioned as temperatures climbed to 98 degrees. We loaded a school bus and were let off at the Joplin Regional Airport warehouse.

As we walked in, things were a mess. There were kids toys, canned goods, toilet paper, paper towels, deodorant... anything that you could ever imagine. I was instantly overwhelmed. An older woman, Cici, announced that everything had its place and each pallet needed to be sorted. I started ripping open bags and sorting.

One of the men that was working next to me said to me, "You know, I wish they would have just donated money." That kind of struck me. I thought at first, how dare he say that! These people gave from their hearts. But then I realized- he was right.

I felt that the donations, while given with good intentions, were overwhelming for volunteers, who instead could be helping cleaning up Joplin's crushed homes. As a volunteer, you shouldn't ask, "What can I give?". Instead, you should ask, "What do they need?" The answer to that is: money. Monetary donations are going to go a lot further to rebuild Joplin than cans of tomato soup and hotel sized shampoos. Further, a lot of people sent garage sale fare- dirty, heavily used and sometimes broken toys, soiled linens, and Easter candy- melted Snickers. Sometimes, I wonder what goes through people's minds...


We worked for three hours and almost completely finished with the entire warehouse. There were about fifteen of us, including AmeriCorps workers and a man from Houston, Texas who drove 16 hours to be here after hearing about the tornado.

Being a volunteer takes patience, flexibility, and generosity- of your time and energy. After three hours, I was wiped out. I had downed two bottles of water and was about to pass out from heat exhaustion. But after three hours, seeing that warehouse transformed from an unsorted mess to a clean floor and perfectly packaged pallets, I knew that we had done something good for people that had lost everything.

PS- If you ever get a chance to volunteer with your significant other, i suggest doing so! Adam and I worked as a team today as we went through boxes and sorted items. At the end of the day, we walked hand in hand to the bus. The bus driver smiled at us. I said to him, "I'm really glad we got to do this together." He kissed my hand and said, "Me too." It's amazing how close you feel to someone when you change the world together.

Adopt a Dog: A Plea

In two years, we have owned three dogs. Roxy was a stray dog that we kept after searching for her owner. She was a great dog, but I thought she was lonely. Adam and I fought about it, as he said that we didn't have enough room or money for a second dog. In the end, I won, and we went to pick out a second dog.

We knew that we wanted to adopt a dog from a shelter as there are so many dogs in the shelter that need good homes. We took Roxy to a shelter and let her "pick one out". The first dog that we chose didn't work out: he was growling at her while she sniffed him. The second, Trixie, was a tree walker coonhound, with long ears and tall, skinny legs. I would have never picked her out, but she and Roxy got along right away. They played in an outside pen and on the way home, they cuddled in the backseat. I knew right away that they were going to be best friends.

In December 2010, tragedy struck and we lost Trixie, and Roxy had her leg amputated. Roxy was so depressed during her recovery and I could barely get out of bed. I cried nonstop. In March 2011, we spread Trixie's ashes and considered getting a new dog. We tread lightly on this because we knew no one could replace Trixie. We went to the shelter and tried out a few dogs, but none really worked out. All of the sudden, behind the counter, I saw a timid black dog, who I assumed was a puppy because of her small stature. I said, "What about that one?" They brought this dog, named Cherry, out to meet Roxy. All of the sudden, Cherry's tail started wagging. "I've never seen her act like that!" said the girl behind the counter. We took Cherry home that night.

The first couple of days, Cherry did not like us all that much. She was scared and wouldn't move from the couch. She sat, almost lifeless, as we brought her food and water to her. When we let her outside, she either tried to escape or hid under the deck, shivering. I cried and told Adam that we should return her. She wasn't even playing with Roxy. I missed Trixie so badly in those moments. This dog wasn't for me, I thought. Adam asked me to give it just one more day and see if Cherry warmed up.

The next day, Cherry, now named Cora, transformed. She was bright, tail wagging, playing with Roxy, and licking me! She was a completely different dog. Cora has turned into a wonderful, sweet dog that greets me at the door with kisses and hugs. She follows me around the house and cuddles right next to me at night. She even takes naps with me!

We've come a long way from adopting Trixie a year ago. I never would have picked out Trixie, or Cora. But those two dogs have changed my life. The Warrensburg shelter is full right now and several dogs will be euthanized if not adopted by Thursday, June 2nd. Please, if you're looking for a new dog, consider adopting from the shelter. It's a great deal- they come microchipped and everything- and you're saving two lives in the process- you adopt one and another dog gets that cage and gets to live. Please consider adopting instead of going to a breeder or a pet store. 

We didn't necessarily have the time, energy, money or room for a second dog, but we opened our hearts and made it happen. It was the best decision of our lives.


Open your heart

Patches

Two years ago, I met someone. I didn't expect that someone to become anything but a footnote in my life. Now, two years later, we live together, we have a house, and two adopted dogs. We're a family.

But lately things haven't been so great. What's become of our relationship? Fights, lies, slamming doors and couch-sleeping. Patches. Patching things up to make them work. I feel like my whole life has become a patchwork quilt, just mending what is broken for the temporary, and not knowing how to reupholster my life.

I've always prided myself on my communication skills, and I have tried repeatedly to figure out what has happened to us. I ask questions and I get lies. I ask more questions and he shuts down. What's the point? Why hide what you feel? What is going on in YOUR HEAD?

I'm exhausted at this point. I don't want to be there anymore. This isn't the life that I thought I would be living. But what if this is just a speedbump? What if things WILL get better? What if he's the one I'm supposed to be with?

I'm not afraid of being alone, of starting over, even though that depresses me. I am exhausted by the thought of all the energy it's going to take to start over- energy and money. Find a place, move all of my stuff, what will we do with the dogs? Lately they're all I look forward to. Start over. Shoulder all of the bills again.

And then what happens? If he apologizes, begs me back like he has a million times? What do I do? Move back in? Uproot my life yet again? It's all too exhausting to think about.

I just. dont. know.what. to.do.anymore.

The Art of Mothering

moth·er/ˈməT͟Hər/

Verb: Bring up (a child) with care and affection: "the art of mothering".

Mother's Day is generally reserved for mothers that gave birth to children, but I've come to realize in the last couple of years that a mother can be anyone who possesses those general "mothering" qualities, and that cares for others as she would care for children. Below I have detailed the mothers in my life who have made an impact on me.

My sisters: I have three older sisters and my first niece was born when I was 5 years old, so they were more little sisters to me than nieces. I was a built in babysitter from the age of eleven, and took part in disciplining and caring for them. They have become beautiful kids, all seven of them, thanks in big part to my sisters, who have brought them up with poise, care and love. They are the smartest kids I know, and I am proud to call them family :)
                                               My sisters, me and my Mom (in the middle)

Adam's aunts and sister: Adam's mother passed away when he was young and over the years he spent time with various aunts and his sister. These women helped make him kind, sensitive, sweet, and loving. They all cared for Adam when he needed them; he lived with a few of them during various times in his life. They weren't his natural mothers, but they opened their hearts and homes to him.
                                                    Adam and his wonderful sister Cara

I really admire my friend Jacque for her mothering skills. She had baby Madelyn about a year and a half ago and she is the happiest baby I know. Most mothers enjoy being with their children, but Jacque takes it to a whole new level. I can usually control my baby instincts, but when I'm around Madelyn, I want a baby just like her. She's smart and sweet and so affectionate- because Jacque is. She spends time with her, makes her own baby food, just generally is happy and excited to be a mother. I want to be just like her when I have a baby Laylan.
                                                            Jacque and baby Maddie

And lastly, I am not a mother to children but I am a mother to two wonderful dogs, Roxy and Cora. We adopted Roxy in Feb 2010 and in July 2010 got her a friend, Trixie. In December 2010, tragedy struck our family. Roxy and Trixie escaped and Trixie passed away, and Roxy's hip was crushed. Two surgeries later, Roxy was a three legged dog. We nursed her back to health, taking her out to the bathroom on a leash, making sure she had her pain medicine and lifting her 60 lb body onto the bed so that she could sleep near us. She has inspired us with the resolve and a "can-do" attitude. Sometimes she falls, but she has learned how to live her life as a three legged dog and nothing can stop her.
                                                                        Roxy and Trixie

In March we adopted Cora from an animal shelter. The first day, she loved Roxy but wouldn't show any type of affection toward us. We gave her a chance and brought her home, where she lay on the couch, almost lifeless, for 2 days. When we let her out to potty, she hid under the deck for 4 hours, shivering. I didn't have faith, I thought she needed to be returned to the shelter. Adam asked to keep her one more night. That night, she blossomed. She is the sweetest, loving dog that we could ask for to be a friend to Roxy. They play constantly, wrestle, groom each other, and were instant best friends. They really are my children.

Roxy, a 3 legged dog, and Cora

Happy Mother's Day, whether you're a furmother, a child's mother, a surrogate mother, or any other "mother"!