Admitting defeat...

It is with much sadness that I write this entry. After a year, we have decided it is time to find Scarley a new home. I know this news will be received 50/50; half of you can't believe we can get rid of her after a year, and the other half (those that know me well) can't believe I endured this daily torment for a year. I, too, have these same feelings. It is truly one of the hardest things I have ever done, but it is time. Believe me when I say, this decision WAS NOT made lightly. She needs something that we can not provide, and I am unselfish enough to admit that. It is not fair to her to continue to live like this, and it is unfair to us. She needs a family that will be SUPER active with her! She needs to be the center of attention. She needs to be the only dog in the house. She does not play well with other dogs; in fact, her new past time is attacking Zoe, and that was the nail in the coffin. She is awesome with kids, just not the four-legged kind! I know that the perfect family is out there for her, but it is not the Karacia's. I asked for your prayers yesterday to help me get through the endless phone calls trying to find somewhere to place her; somewhere that can put her exactly where she needs to be. Thank you for all of your prayers and support. You have no idea how much they carried me when I needed it. Your kind words about me when I felt so bad about myself were such a blessing. 95% of you knew nothing of what was going on, but sent me love anyway, and for that you are greatly appreciated.
Please keep your ears open and let me know if you hear of anyone that is looking for some entertainment in their lives (in the form of a 75 pound blazing ball of energy). She is up-to-date on all her shots, has been spayed, and let's not forget that brand new crotch of hers.
Please friends, I ask you to help me find a loving home for her. Yes, she is crazy, but she also so sweet and will make

someone very happy. Thank you.

REMEMBER...

Cate and I went to the Ground Zero 360 exhibit yesterday at the Field Museum. There was a section where you could sit and listen to the actual radio transmissions from 9/11 between the fire and police. When we were there they were trying to get to a fireman that was trapped after the first tower fell. He was trying to give them his location to come and get him. It was chilling and something that will probably stay with me forever. I pray now , more than ever, for all of those down there that have images to go with what I heard for those small 20 minutes that I sat there. As I went to bed I kept hearing those transmissions in my head. I wonder if they ever found him; I doubt it. As Americans, we have very short memories. We need to remember that day, ALWAYS. We need to thank firefighters and police in our neck of the woods when we see them, for they would do the same for us if we ever needed them to. We need to thank every soldier we see, for he/she is helping make sure that this never happens again in our own backyard.

It was so important for Cate to see this. She was just a year and a half on that awful day and has no memory of it. I guess on one hand, that is a blessing. But on the other hand, I want her to know the beauty that came out of that day... for at least a few months after. Neighbors took the time to wave or say "HI". Strangers weren't so distant at the store. People looked out for each other a bit more. The resilience shown by us, as a nation, was awesome and awe inspiring. I want her to know that part of September 11, 2001. As I sit here typing this, I can recall vividly watching the news and having all those frightful images seared into my brain forever, and you know what? I'm glad that they are! I never want to forget that day! Otherwise, everyone that died then, and since then, would have died in vain. As we come upon the tenth anniversary of 9/11, please remember those that have died, both here and abroad. Remember the love we had for each other in those uncertain days immediately after. Remember the feeling of gratitude we had; even though we were sick that all our 'brothers and sisters' had died, we wefelt so lucky to be holding our children that night, while theirs cried themselves to sleep. Please, never forget. Always Remember.

REMEMBER

* Ground Zero 360° is organized by Paul McCormack and Nicola McClean

Love Letter to Ali...

As you left the house this morning on your way to your first day of high school, my mind played for me a mini slideshow of mental pictures I had stored in there of you. I saw the doctor handing you to me right after you were yanked from my body, a beautiful, gooey, butterball of a baby; the most beautiful thing I had ever seen! I saw your face light up when we brought home Lexie for you to grow up with. In saw the look of terror on your face when I took you on the Beastie for the first (and last) time.

I saw you walk into my hospital room after I had Cate, wearing a huge pink paper crown that read "Big Sister'. I saw you sitting in the solon chair while Darlene did your hair for homecoming, where you were the flower girl (after you had cut 3 holey spots in your hair, the day before you were to perform your royal duties). I saw you, wise beyond your years, carrying on conversations with your grandparents. I saw the sadness in your face when I told you we had to move away from the only place you had ever called home (and again, when we told you the same thing 3 years later). I saw you throw your head back in laughter at something that tickled you (that laugh that is so you; I LOVE that laugh). I saw all this in a matter of seconds, even though it has been almost fifteen years in the making; to me, it seems like it all really happened in a matter of seconds...
I am so in awe of the young lady you have turned into. In an age when young girls feel the need to be much more mature than necessary, you have still kept that same innocence you had as a kindergartener. I admire you for not feeling the need to give into peer pressure and act up. I admire you for always rooting for the underdog. I admire you for your brains and your strength. Most of all I admire you for simply being comfortable in your own skin. At 14 you have mastered something that I still can't fathom at 36. I can't wait to see the greatness that you create as you get older. I hope you never forget how awesome you are and how wonderful you make my life. I love you, Ali. More than you will ever know :)

Scarley & Me

Scarlet, how do I love thee? Let me count the ways... well there is the; NO, that won't work. How about how you; NO, that actually drives me crazy! I know, it's the; wait, that makes me cry! Hmmmm, I got nuttin'!
You know there is a problem when you have to pay someone (a big fat THANK YOU to the saint Brittany M. for your sacrifice) to keep your dog while you take a vacation (for the sole purpose of being away from her). I am afraid that she accepted the challenge because she loved dogs so much. I am even more afraid that a week with my dog has made her become more of a 'cat person'!
Back to Scarley (that is her new name, for Scarlet seems to dainty and fragile for this feral beast!)and her God given gift of pure annoyance. Our day starts with her barking sometime between 5:30 and 6:00 a.m. (although she was in rare form for Brittany who informed us that she was awakened EVERYDAY at 4:50)ready to eat, do her bidness, and play a round of fetch the tennis ball (in the dark) This is EVERYDAY. She does not sleep in... EVER! We (and by 'we' I mean Ben) come downstairs, let her out, get her food, put her in the cage (yes, she needs caged to eat. She is hostile when it comes to food), and let her eat 2 cups of food... which takes about .03 seconds. Then she needs let outside again. All this takes about 4 minutes, at which time she is let back in the house, does her bast Carl Lewis up the stairs and bounds on the bed and starts slapping me in the face with her tail. If I don't respond to her hints that it's time to get up, she then jumps off the bed, stares at me, and starts that ear~piercing bark of hers that rivals nails on a chalkboard!
AND THIS IS WHY MOMMY DRINKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I know I complain about her... A LOT! But, to be fair, there is A LOT to complain about! She is ridiculous. She is annoying. She is messy. She is L.O.U.D. She is expensive (do you need reminded of 'Vulvagate 2011'). She is bitchy. And she is mine. In spite of all her {insert appropriate word here. I looked in the dictionary for the perfect one, but she has eaten half of it, so there you go!} I love her. God help me, I do. I just don't like her very much. I have shed more tears over her than I have for my missing abs and shoulder blades, but I can't help thinking that she was put into our lives for a reason. God created her and said, "This will make for good payback for them". Oh, God, you are a funny, funny man, with a wicked sense of humor! I calm myself during moments of mayhem with the hope that one day she will be like my Hanky. He is the perfect specimen. They are uncle/niece, after all so how different can they be? I know the answer to this, but it helps calm me, so LET ME HAVE IT!
Well, that is all for today. I must let Scarley outside, for a leaf has fallen off of a tree and SHE IS HAVING NONE OF THAT NONSENSE!
Enjoy the peace of your quiet homes, readers (except for you Carrie. I enjoy a sick kind of happiness in knowing that I am not alone in this puppy hell. We are currently raising Satan's twins)!

Home is where the mess is...

It's very true that home is where the heart is. I can attest to this. Living like a military family, and nomading (yes, it's a word) around the Midwest, I know positively that home is where Ben and the girls are. I can make a home anywhere as long as they are there!

So, after a crazy morning of packing lunches, letting dogs out, letting dogs in and cleaning off 8 paws and 2 muddy noses (if you are asking yourself where the other 4 paws and extra nose are, they are attached to Zoe who is lazy and will roll out of bed about 10 or 11), and cleaning out and organizing my pantry and fridge, I sat down to relax with my second cup o' joe and saw it... THE MESS! Yep, home is also where the mess is! I looked at the floor and saw a mud spot in the freshly cleaned carpet (thanks, BACC), looked to my left and saw a lampshade that was so crooked it was hanging on only with the help of the dust, I looked around the room and saw 5 tennis balls (2 partially eaten, 3 whole ones ). To my right was my favorite sweatshirt blanket from The New River, bought during our whitewater vaca last year, containing enough holes to make it NOT qualify as a blanket anymore. At the front door lays a ripstik that Caty rides tirelessly when home. It takes her to the door in the morning before school and she hops on it as soon as she walks in the door in the afternoon. On my office desk lays 2 digital cameras and a video camera for transferring pics from Cate's Narnia play last night (I got the pics on the PC with no problem, but for the life of me can not remember how to put the video on it!) On the mantle rests a HUGE blueprint drafted by Ali as a school project; not in a frame mind you, just rolled up like a poster, because that is as far as it got after school yesterday! Point is, it's like a tornado rips through this house every day! Don't get me wrong, my house is clean. I HATE clutter and dirtiness, but I am slowly (kids are 14 and 11) learning to not be so OCD about the house, because it's a LOSING battle. It is impossible to have a spotless house when 4 people and 3 dogs LIVE in it! If you have this and your house is spotless, send me tips! It's just that all this crap in my house reminds me that this mess directly coincides with my heart, because they are a part of the people (yes, we consider our dogs people) I love more than life. So, if home is where the mess is, THERE IS NO PLACE I WOULD RATHER BE!!!

To Pee or Not to Pee? THAT is the question...

When you are pregnant, it is such a joyous time. People are so nice to give you all kinds of unsolicited advice... where to give birth (no thanks, I prefer not to get birthing juice all over the same place I shave my legs), whether or not to find out the sex of your baby (the fact that we were pregnant at 21 was a surprise enough, so we went ahead and found out the gender), which nipples were best for the little bundle of joy ( I tried to make sure they were mine, but Ali ate to much and the real things got raw and bled, SOOO we went with the synthetics). My personal favorite was a when a girl told me I shouldn't drink caffeine because it would make my baby's head shrink ( FALSE!!! My baby was 10 pounds at birth, and 7 of it was head! Now that baby carries a consistent 4.0+ gpa, so I say, CAFFEINE IT UP, MOMMA'S!!) Most of the advice and 'helpful' hints were OK, and as a first time mother I listened to every piece of it! BUT, what I would have really appreciated was some honest to goodness, hard~truth, facts about the whole process! For example, I would have loved to have been warned that when you are pregnant you can develop hymroids. At 21 I had no clue what these were, so when I discovered them, I thought I had only months to live. I would have loved for someone to tell me to not even bother packing my size 8 jeans to come home from the hospital in. I would have happily packed my MC Hammer pants to avoid the post-partum breakdown that happened in my hospital room when I couldn't pull the size 8's over my knees! I would have LOVED to be warned that after birthing my baby, I would most definitely not be able to cough, sneeze, laugh, or jog, without peeing my pants! That one was a real eye~opener (oddly enough, I use that one as an excuse as to why I can't jog! THANK YOU incontinence!)!
This is why when I happen upon a pregnant woman all glowy and happy, I proudly tell her all the things I was never told! Sure, I may come across as a Debbie-Downer, but I can almost guarantee that it's MY words of wisdom that sticks with her most! I tell her not to over~eat just because she is 'eating for two', or she will gain 90 pounds like I did (I know! It's true! Why did I think I could wear the size 8's home? Did I honestly think I would birth 90 pounds?) I assure/warn her that laughter will become funnier/mortifying when she pees her pants during it! But mostly I warn her that once she holds that baby for the first time, she will never be the same! She will know love that she never knew existed. She will finally know what it's like to say you would die for someone and mean it! Motherhood is unparalleled to ANYTHING in the world! That is why I enjoy every time I pee my pants for I know it's my girls gift to me!

Antarctica