Recently in Marriage Category
After dealing with sick children for a week I found myself flat on my back so very sick I just wanted to cry.
Steve took a day off to help me with Steven.
This is so not funny I want to cry again.
He slept all day, either by the fire or in the bed and didn't help me at all.
People he wasn't sick. Sick and tired of the BS he was having at work but physically battling that virus he was not.
Thinking about it now makes me angry because in his mind he did everything friday. How laughable, he didn't fix his own lunch or dinner and to ask him to do something drew filthy looks and smartass remarks. He even went back to bed at 8pm. Yet he tellspeople he was at home taking care of me and Steven.
Now we all have headcolds. The nasty clogged sinus, you can't breath, but you have to blow every 5 minutes, geesh my head hurts and my body aches kind of head cold. He is even more grouchy and mean. He lays in the floor by the fire acting like he is providing sole care for Steven meanwhile I am picking up behind them all, cooking supper, doing laundry. If I sit down at my laptop to check email or to look at the farm forum I belong to he throws it back at me that it is all I do. WTH?
I am on a short rope this week. Someone might get hung with it, too.
If you sweep a house, and tend its fires and fill its stove, and there is love in you all the years you are doing this, then you and that house are married, that house is yours.
-Truman Capote, The Glass Harp
I am.
Thank you all for your comments and emails. Most of them were very kind.
Let me make it clear that I have not been on the sidelines chanting 'put the dog down'. Neither have I been a cheerleader with every movement of a leg or toe. I have not overly encouraged him or discouraged him in any way. She is not showing real improvement and I can't play into the "Look! Her leg moved. Everything is fine now" game. It is wrong. Someone has to be a grown up here and it seems to always fall on me.
I was asked to help make a desicion and I refused to participate. She is not my dog. I also won't have it come back to haunt me that I had the ultimate sway in how things played out. I have made it very clear I will not be care taker or nursemaid to a dog. I did NOT take wedding vows "in sickness and in health" with any dog included as part of my commiment to my marriage.
The dog has had her steroid shots. She has been given oral steroids as prescribed. She has been crated since I brought her home from the vet last week. She has shown a tiny bit of improvement. She can stand on her back legs about one minute then she lists to the side and goes down. Which isn't really improvement at all. She can't walk on her own. She is sleeping far more than she ever slept before. She is taken out frequently to do her business but she still has accidents. Weither she can control that completely or not I am not sure.
Steve has taken this very hard. I have been as supportive as I can be but I won't tell him everything will be okay when obviously it is not. I won't be the one to blow smoke up his ass and make him feel better just to let this dog continue to linger in this state and myself being forced to be the caregiver every day. It is not fair to anyone involved. Especially not the dog.
He has reluctantly called the vet, who discussed having treated the dog with him, and the time has come to realize she will not recover. He made an appointment to have her put to sleep. I feel like when he even discusses the situation he is pointing invisible fingers at me and blaming me for something. When asked he won't discuss it. So even by not saying anything and not weighing-in to help make a choice I feel like I am going to carry the lion's share of the burden forever in having this dog put down. Thirty years from now I will be one who ultimately made him put his dog down. I can already feel it in the air. It is an unspoken communication hovering there.
I am very tired of having to be the strong one all of the time.
It's a Little One's 1st Valentine's Day. "Sometime's," said Pooh, "the smallest things take up the most room in your heart." Happy First Valentine's Day to someone sweet and small and new. I love you, Dad*sobbing*
Setting: Just before lights out in bed.
Discussion: Sensory perception of specific sexually oriented stimuli from the female to the male.
Me: It feels as good as _________.
Him: I don't know.
Me: You do know. Oral feels as good as ______ compared to penetration that feels as good as ______?
Him: Long Pause .... I don't know. Demonstration of the more orally challenging part
Me: As good as _________? (I prompted)
Him: Your meatloaf (He blurted)
There is no way to not snort with laughter at this point -at least for me. Let this be a lesson, your mother was right. One way to a man's heart IS through his stomach. I am not foolish enough to believe it is the only way to a man's heart. If you are wondering how good that meatloaf is, well, its just a normal meatloaf. Nothing special -at least I don't think. It is a hearty dish that I serve with whipped potatoes and little english peas. So here goes folks ... As
Good As Sex Meatloaf
3 lbs ground beef (I use ground chuck) (sometimes I might mix beef, pork, veal, and chicken)
2 eggs
1 med. finely chopped onion
1/2 c. seasoned bread crumbs garlic powder -
a shake or three dash of worcestershire sauce
squirt of ketchup salt and pepper
Mix together well.
Form into a loaf or press into a loaf pan.
Topping
1/2 c. ketchup
1 tbsp prepared yellow mustard
1 - 2 tbsp brown sugar Mix well.
Spread over the meatloaf. Slide into a hot oven at 375 degrees bake until done, 45 minutes to 1 hour.
Serve with mashed potatoes that have been whipped with cream, butter and a bit of sour cream, salt and pepper.
For the little english peas I only use the tiny baby peas, frozen or Lesuer brand only if canned.
You can add chopped green pepper to the meatloaf but I leave it out because since I have gotten pregnant green peppers sometimes give me killer heartburn and I am avoiding them.
