As we say good riddance to 2011, I am also saying good riddance to this blog.  It's a new year and I am on a new path in my life, so it's time to create a new blog.

Follow me:



Thank the heavens above

You've been wondering where I have been, haven't you?  Take a peek below and try to figure it out for yourself.

Of all years, seems this is one I wish to forget much of.  It certainly wasn't ALL bad, but there was enough bad stuff to last a lifetime.  Here is a recap so you can enjoy what life was like for my family...in no certain order, because I don't have the mental capacity to relive this year in order:

The boy turned 5 and had his first "kid" party at Hero's.  It was really fun.
I turned 41 and the husband turned 42.
I got a 3% raise.
Our house was broken into and $9,000 worth of items were stolen or damaged.
We celebrated our 12th wedded anniversary.
The boy graduated from Pre-K.
I haven't had the energy or drive to exercise all year.
I have had awful Fibromyalgia flare ups. 
Some days, it is a struggle to move.
The boy sliced his finger open with his dad's knife.
His dad passed out on the floor when he saw the blood.
I got a new tooth, my gums trimmed and my teeth whitened.
The husband had severe pain in his feet, ankles and knees and could hardly walk for a week.  Possible Rheumatoid Arthritis.
Unemployment benefits dried up.
We lived on my salary alone for 3 months.
We were poor.
My car windshield is still cracked and I still don't care.
I painted the foyer (up the stairs, down the stairs), living room and dining room.
The boy started Kindergarten.
His behavior is awful and although he is academically advanced, he has behavioral issues.
The boy sits at a single desk away from the rest of his classmates who sit at tables of 6 because he cannot sit still, cannot respect others space and is distracting.
The boy had scarlet fever.
Grandma died.
Our house was broken into, again, and $8,700 worth of items stolen or damaged.
The husband beat the hell out of some guy in a convertible for stopping in the road and flipping him the bird.
The boy was in the truck and witnessed this attack.
I wrote a letter to Mayor Bell about our break-ins and got a call within a week.
The summer was hot and miserable and made me sick(er).
The husband had stomach pains so bad we called 911.  Turns out he had a perforated doudenal ulcer (a hole in his intestines) and needed emergency surgery.
This was life or death surgery.  LIFE.OR.DEATH.
He was in the hospital for 6 days.
Uncle and 2 cousins died.
The husband got a job.
The husband lost a job because the owner was a disorganized idiot.
The husband got another job.
The husband quit the job because at the end of his probation, it didn't look like they were going to have much work for him so he went elsewhere.
The husband took a job - making peanuts - because peanuts were better than nothing.
Lost 3 high school friends, 2 took their own lives.
The boy had a staph infection that the Dr worried was in his bones it was so bad.  Thankfully was not, but he had an allergic reaction to the meds and broke out in an awful rash over his entire body.
I became an Independent Stylist for Jewel Kade and have been able to make a few large purchases and have a decent christmas.
Lost a good friend and neighbor.
The husband had cellulitis on a cut on his arm.  It had to be sliced open, drained and packed.  He was off work for 4 days. unpaid, on double antibiotics and pain meds. 
We got a dog.
I love the dog, but he sheds.  A lot!
I drove myself to the emergency room because my back hurt so bad I was not able to move for 2 days. 
Grandpa died.
I had a sinus infection for 8 1/2 weeks.
And there are a couple things I can't even talk about.  They're THAT bad.

And, the icing on the cake...

I lost my job on December 16th.

Two Thousand Eleven can BITE ME.


1,825 days, 43,800 hours, 2,628,000 minutes

How is it possible that you are 2 million, six hundred twenty eight thousand minutes old?

How did this happen so quickly?

My baby who had screaming fits every night at 7pm between 5 and 8 weeks old. My baby who slept through the night (10-12 hours at a stretch) at 12 weeks old and never looked back. My baby who used to squeal and kick his feet when he was so happy, whose squeal sounded like a pteradactyl and I couldn't get enough of it. My baby who always ate like a champ unless he wasn't feeling well. My baby who's first words "nana (banana), cuh (Booka - one of our cats) and more" were spoken at 8 months old.

You grew up so quickly. From walking, to really talking (and never stopping), to learning to feed yourself (and never stopping) to skipping and hopping, to writing and reading (some), to learning basic math.

Every time I see you my face lights up. You are the light of my life. The photos in my office at work make me smile each and every time I look at them. Writing this blog post is making me grin from ear to ear, because I am thinking and talking about you.

You tell knock knock jokes that usually make absolutely no sense, yet I love every one of them and laugh hysterically each time.

You insist on sitting on my lap on the couch at cartoon time before bed. I tease that you need to find another place to sit and that I am not a chair...but I love every minute of it. You fit perfectly. It's like you were born to be there.

I lay in bed with you at night, after books and lights out, for about 20-30 minutes and we make up stories while I rub your sore legs (growing pains are real, who knew). There's almost always a car or truck in the stories. It could start with a turtle or a stuffed animal or planet and will end with a fire truck, police car, or dump truck. I don't think you will ever stop loving cars and trucks.

You are full of endless amounts of energy. At the park/zoo/imagination station, we play for hours. You love to help around the house and are first in line to use the swiffer, vacuum cleaner, or dust wipes. You LOVE to clean the toilet!

You love to ride your bike but say you never ever want to take your training wheels off. But, guess what, we're going to try it without them this summer! You are really getting into basketball and playing catch with a baseball. Mommy could care less about sports or sports teams, and especially watching any sport on tv, but played basketball, softball and volleyball and can show him a few of the ropes.

You love love love rough-housing with daddy. Daddy often takes you to the "swamp" with your Jeep. You like to drive the trails and get out and explore in the woods. You always tell me about all of the frogs and toads you see. You love to help daddy build things or use tools. You also love riding on his shoulders. You love when daddy is in charge of feeding you lunch or dinner because you get to eat junk.

You tell me that you want to marry me, that I am your best friend and that you want to live with me forever. You also tell me that I am the best Mommy in the whole wide world. I get so many hugs and kisses in a day, it's hard to count. But I could always use more. Each one makes my heart smile. You know how much I love your kisses and you sometimes you use them as deal makers. "Mommy, if we can do {insert activity here} or if I can have {insert food or new toy here}, I will give you a kiss".

You are still a milk-a-holic. At home you've never had juice, pop, etc. At school you get juice or fruit punch once a week. And you've had lemonade and love it. On special occassions I let you have chocolate milk. You eat darn near anything. I nearly threw up a few weeks ago when you couldn't get enough mussels. You and your dad were going to town on them and I was horrified and proud at the same time. I would say shrimp is one of your absolute favorite things. You love junk but you also love fruits and vegetables, so I guess it's pretty balanced. You love eggs, meat, chicken, fish, and most seafood. You are not a big fan of pork and your love of cheese comes and goes.

You remember everything, yet you often forget to slow down and remember the rules. You get in trouble frequently at school for not listening, not paying attention, not keeping your hands to yourself. We go through phases where you will earn a "green" every day for weeks on end, and then you'll get three "reds" in a row. When I ask you what would have been a better way to handle whatever you got in trouble for, you give me the right answers, so I know you know...you just don't stop and think. It's a guy thing.

You want to be a "Monster Truck Fire fighter Policeman" and a "worker" (construction/building) when you grow up. If there's anyone in the world who can be a Monster Truck Fire fighter Policeman - it's you.

I could talk about you for days. But instead I'm just going to end with a great big HAPPY 5TH BIRTHDAY to my handsome young man. I love you more than words.


Fibromyalgia Awareness Day - My Story

Sometime in 2008, my back started hurting more than usual. The disk between L4 and L5 is nearly gone and I’ve had constant pain there for more than 15 years. The pain I was feeling was worse than they typical pain I had felt for so long, and it had spread though out most of my back. My shoulders and neck were also in pain. I figured the pain was due to my, then 2 year old, son getting bigger and heavier. I just figured the strain of bending over and picking him up was taking its toll. I was 38 years old, so I thought maybe this was part of getting older too.

So, I made a very difficult decision. I stopped picking my son up. It was so hard! He didn’t understand and neither did I, but I felt “broken” and was afraid I would drop him or hurt myself more. I told him that he could sit on my lap any time, but that I could not pick him up, unless absolutely necessary – like to put him in a shopping cart, or if he fell asleep in the car and I had to carry him in to the house.

For TWO YEARS I rarely picked my son up, but the pain never got better. I saw a Chiropractor. She made the pain worse. I saw a Massage Therapist. She made me feel better while I was on her table, but the pain would come back quick upon leaving. I went to a pain doctor and had steroid injections in my back. They helped my lower back for a short time, but the pain elsewhere NEVER WENT AWAY.

I often felt paralyzed with stiffness after sitting on the couch or a chair for long. I struggled to get up. And when I did get up, it took a lot of effort. I used to do what I called “the crawl”. I would scoot to the edge of the couch, use every muscle in my legs and arms to push myself up, and then (because I was bent over) would use my hands and walk/crawl them up my thighs, pushing myself upright until I was standing straight. I would have to stand upright and still for a few seconds before being able to walk.

I had to do “the crawl” every morning to get out of bed. It was a miserable experience.

If I got on the floor to play with my son, or for whatever reason, getting up was nearly impossible without crawling over to a couch/table to pull or push myself up.

I had frequent headaches. I was exhausted all the time. I had the most embarrassing GI issues: bloating, diarrhea, gas that hurt so bad I would cry. Literally cry. I had PMS that caused so much additional pain that I could hardly walk at times. I felt menstrual cramps under my ribs. I had pain in my nether regions. My eyesight would randomly get worse at times, with my glasses or contacts on. I actually could NOT SEE for nearly 2 hours one day. My hands and feet went numb frequently, and every morning when I woke up both of my hands were numb. I was often dizzy upon standing. I had trouble taking a full breath. I had occasional stabbing in my chest. My muscles would twitch randomly. My moods swung like a pendulum.

I often sobbed silently at night because I couldn’t get comfortable. My bed hurt. The blankets hurt. BLANKETS HURT.

I became so used to living with all of these issues, I had convinced myself it was normal. Just part of being “me”. I talked to my best friend about these issues and she would tell me that normal people don’t feel like that. She never had pain. I couldn’t believe there were people out there who had pain free days. Clearly she was not being truthful.

One day in 2010, while sitting on the couch, my son came over to sit on my lap to watch cartoons. His bony little knee hit my thigh and the pain sent me through the roof. I screamed. I screamed in pain and I screamed at him. I couldn’t figure out what was going on, I didn’t understand why that hurt so badly. He cried because I screamed at him. It happened again a few days later. And then again, and again. Around this same time, I noticed that when I scratched an itch…my skin hurt. My SKIN HURT.

A few months later, my right foot arch started hurting. I thought maybe I had injured it without realizing. Then I realized that I didn’t do anything to injure it. It hurt so bad I was limping. I limped for 2 ½ months.

I knew I needed to discuss these issues with my Dr. I knew these things weren’t normal. I was terrified. I thought I was dying. I didn’t want to know what was wrong. I FELT CRAZY.

During these 2 years, I kept a journal of the pain. I made a summary of these entries and then I made a Dr. appointment. When my appointment finally rolled around, I was out of my mind with fear. I thought she would tell me I was crazy. I thought she would tell me I was dying. I thought she would not understand.

I made the appointment because I had “foot pain”. While discussing the foot pain with my Dr, I started crying. No. Sobbing. She asked if the pain was that bad. I said no. I tried to tell her about the other pain. But I couldn’t talk. She sat with me. I was able to tell her that I had a list of some other things that were bothering me. She told me to relax and she would just read through the list.

She asked a few questions. I calmed down. She walked over and started pressing on various parts of my body and asking me if it hurt. Well, yes, most of the places she pressed had hurt. At that point I didn’t realize she was pressure point testing for Fibromyalgia.

She stepped back and said “Have you ever hear of Fibromyalgia”? I said, yes. She told me I exhibited many of the symptoms and I had pain in nearly all of the pressure points.

She ordered a full blood panel to rule out other conditions, and gave me a 3 week supply of Cymbalta.

I took a pill as soon as I walked out the door. I swear I felt better almost instantly. It was likely because the fear I had been carrying around for so long had finally been lifted. I wasn’t crazy after all. I wasn’t dying. And I had been diagnosed with something real. And my Dr understood, and was sympathetic.




I’ve been taking Cymbalta for 8 months now. The only 'every day" pain I have is some mild lower back discomfort. The L4/L5 disc is gone, so the only way to ever have a pain free lower back is to have surgery.

My GI issues are gone! My periods come and go with little notice! I’m pretty even tempered! I’m happy! I feel good!

I pick my, now nearly 5 year old, son up and dance around the room with him! He’s heavy, but it doesn’t hurt. I can sit on the floor and play with him and then get up off the floor like a normal person would.

I did lose a lot of strength over those 2 years. Sometimes I find it unbelievable how much better I feel. I didn’t feel good for over 2 years. I didn’t think I would ever be able to say that I feel GOOD.

Family and friends have been supportive and many have said they had no idea I was suffering. I did keep it to myself for the most part. My husband knew. My best friend knew. My parents knew some of the details but not all because I didn’t want them to worry.

The only side effects I have experienced with Cymbalta are sleepiness, wild dreams and *boo* weight gain. I sleep like a log at night, am able to stay awake all day, so the sleepiness is not a bad side effect. The dreams have been disturbing at times, some would call them nightmares, but the new ME outweighs the dreams. Speaking of outweighing...my weight is out of control. I keep trying to control it, but the sleepiness leads to a lack of motivation, and I am allowing this to interfere with my efforts. I will find something that works and I will lose this weight.

I knows other sufferers have weather related pain, and I too have had a few episodes that seem to be weather related.

Our weather in Ohio has been very weird since March, and I distinctly remember my first weather related episode. March 11th at approximately 9:20am; our front desk clerk asked me to watch the front desk so she could make breakfast. As I was sitting up there, my calf (front/outer side) started hurting. No. Not hurting…STABBING. I started rubbing my leg, and the pressure from rubbing hurt like hell. She returned to the front desk and I hobbled back into my office, where I sat in so much stabbing pain I was near tears for another 15 minutes (20 all together). I continued to rub my leg. I stretched my leg. I flexed my muscles. I stood up and walked around. It HURT LIKE HELL. I was sweating and breathing heavily by the time the pain diminished.

This pain came from nowhere. Out of the blue. And hit me like a ton of bricks. It wasn’t until I read a tweet from another Spoonie who was experiencing a lot of pain that day. From the weather. I had never noticed pain as a direct result of the weather.

Is that what I experienced on March 11th? I have no idea. But it was hell. Pure hell.

I’m terrified to ever stop taking Cymbalta. For me, it has been a miracle. I have my life back. I have ME back. A larger version of me. But a relatively pain free, happier me.



I got my new front tooth on April 11th.

Dr. Hottie removed my old crown and placed a temporary crown on for about 3 weeks while the final product was being made. He trimmed my gums to make my smile less gummy. He was originally going to only trim the gum above my old crown since it clearly didn't match up with the gum on the other side. While he was doing this, he said "how about I just trim the gums around your front 6 teeth and we'll make that smile less gummy". With all of the dental tools in my mouth, I said "mmm hmmm".

Healing the gums took only a couple days and hurt very little. The difference is pretty fantastic. I'm not embarrassed of my smile any more.

I don't "love" the new crown, it's still a bit big and definitely looks like a crown, but the shape and size are so much better. Down the road I plan to have a veneer put over the other front tooth to make them look the same, and I would also like to have invisalign to straighten up that one little crooked tooth and space my teeth out a little better. I also think I need to have the bottom gums trimmed.

All in all...so pleased. And Dr. Hottie is, well, hot. Can't beat that.


Dear Mayor Bell

April 14, 2011

Mayor Mike Bell
One Government Center
640 Jackson
Suite 2200
Toledo, Ohio 43604

Re: Stratford Place, Old West End, Toledo Ohio

Dear Mayor Bell,

I am writing to you today to express my concern for the safety of my family, neighbors and neighborhood and to ask for your help. My husband, 4 ½ year old son and I live on Stratford Place in Toledo’s Old West End. Stratford Place has been a wonderful one block street between Parkwood and Scottwood Avenues, although we now fear living in the City and are considering our options. We really want to stay in the City of Toledo, but we have to protect our child from further trauma.

On January 12, 2011, at 12:00 in the afternoon, the steel back door of our house was kicked in and our belongings were stolen. Nearly $9,000 worth of electronics, a few pieces of jewelry including a very sentimental diamond ring, miscellaneous items, and cash were stolen or destroyed. Thankfully no one was hurt, although we feel violated beyond belief. We do have homeowners insurance, but the “good feelings” about the neighborhood are tarnished. After this incident, we had a security system installed in our home.

The Old West End has an Email Alert System, tirelessly monitored by a fellow neighbor. Over the past 6-8 months, we have been alerted of what seems like dozens of robberies or attempted robberies, many more than I have ever heard about in our 9 years living in the Old West End.

This past Saturday, April 9th, at 4:30 pm, our house was broken into again. This time they broke a window in one of our front door side lights, gained entry and violently hacked into our interior wall with an axe to disable our new alarm system. When the door was opened and the thieves walked in, our alarm and motion sensors were set off and our security company dispatched the police to our home. The police arrived promptly (I love the City of Toledo Police), within 10-12 minutes as near as I can tell. My husband and 4 ½ year old son were at the park and I was out running errands when this happened. We arrived home to 4 law enforcement cruisers in our front lawn only to find ourselves again robbed of electronics and irreplaceable heirlooms, victimized but alive.

The Old West End is truly a gem of a neighborhood. The largest collection of late Victorian, Edwardian and Arts & Crafts homes make this neighborhood one of the most beautiful areas in the United States. The Old West End is on the National Register of Historic Places. The rich and glorious history, architecture, and people, make this a wonderful place to live. The Old West End is home to countless historic homes and churches, the Mansion View Inn, The Toledo Museum of Art, the Toledo Symphony Orchestra TMA Peristyle, Rosary Cathedral, Collingwood Arts Center, etc. and has recently been featured in a 3 part series in American Bungalow Magazine. Our neighborhood hosts the Old West End Festival, Garden Tours, Concerts in the Arboretum, and Tours De Noel, all of which bring countless visitors from all around who put money back into our neighborhood and surrounding businesses.

We love our neighborhood. We love our neighbors. We love living in a front-porch community. We are proud to live in such a beautiful and diverse area. We had no intention of leaving our wonderful neighborhood, but we are scared and worried how to manage our trauma and how to see a safe future for our child within the City of Toledo.

The economic downturn has definitely taken its toll on our wonderful neighborhood, with foreclosures, boarded up homes, and now…more crime than we ever imagined.

As the Chief of the Toledo Fire and Rescue Department for 16 years and the lead for Homeland Security efforts in our region after the September 11 terrorist attacks, it is apparent that the safety of our great City is of utmost importance to you. I know the City of Toledo Police Department monitors our area. We also have block watches in place and the Old West End Security. While all of these efforts are greatly appreciated, they are not enough. Please help us!

Several of the notices received from our Email Alert System state that witnesses have seen 3 teenage/mid-twenty year old males with hooded sweatshirts and backpacks approach houses and knock on the door. It appears their MO is to make up a name and ask if that person is there if someone answers the door. If no one answers, they attempt to make entry. The thieves efforts have been thwarted on occasion by brave neighbors.

My parents taught me the same valuable lessons you live by, that you must treat people fairly and nothing good comes easy. Our family and home have been violated by people who do not live by these same lessons. I am now fearful to be in my home and fearful to be away from my home. This is no way for anyone to live. We are good people, we work hard for our possessions, we pay our bills, we help when needed, and we volunteer. We do our part to be upstanding citizens of the great City of Toledo and the wonderful Old West End.

I ask that you increase security in our area and that you consider addressing one of our monthly neighborhood meetings to let us know what is being done to help the wonderful people of the Old West End win this fight against crime. I know there are countless people in our neighborhood who would like to know what additional measures the City of Toledo is taking, or will be taking, to keep us safe.

Thank you in advance for your immediate attention to this matter. My family, and the residents of the Old West End look forward to your response.


Deb Owens-Newland
Proud Resident of Toledo’s Old West End

Ct: Chief Michael Navarre, Chief of Police


On becoming cynical and clinical

Our house was broken into on January 12th. Read the story here.

Since then:

we have replaced many of the items that were stolen

i turned 41

unemployment benefits dried up

the boy had scarlet fever

grandma died

On April 9th, our house was broken into AGAIN. At 4:30 in the afternoon, a warm sunny day.

The husband and the boy went to the swamp around 2pm. I have been battling an ear infection and decided to lay on the couch with a heating pad on my ear for a bit. I vegged out in front of the tv (watching some stupid movie with Gina Gershon) until 3:15pm when I decided I should get up and get some things done. I had a couple errands to run.

I ran my errands and was milling around Fallen Timbers looking for one more baby gift for my bff's new baby. I didn't hear my phone ring the first time at 4:31pm. I did hear it ring at 4:39pm as I was checking out at Learning Express. It was one of my other bff's. I ignored it, because I think it is SO RUDE when people are yappin on the phone in stores/at checkouts/in restaurants/etc. I listened to my voice mail when I left the store.

The phone call at 4:31pm was Central Security. Our front door sensor had been tripped, and so had the motion sensors inside the house. They dispached the police. The message from my bff said that she just got a call from our security company that our alarm has gone off and they sent the police.


I couldn't think. I couldn't see. I had no idea where I had parked. I felt like I was in a vacuum.


I finally found my car, and in hysterics, hauled ass out of the shopping center and made the 20 minute drive home. The longest 20 minutes of my life. I couldn't reach my husband, via phone call or text. I was driving 85 miles an hour in a 50 mile zone, weaving in and out of traffic, and crying. Totally un-safe.

Mid-way home my husband called. He had not heard the messages or read the texts, so he had no idea what was going on. He found out what was going on when he and the boy pulled into the driveway and saw 2 cop cars in front of our house and 4 cops inside our house.

Sure as shit. We had been hit again.

This time, the ballsy bastards broke one of the windows on our front door sidelights.


They reached in and unlocked the door.

Once inside, they filled their backpacks with our new laptops, new wii+controllers+games, new dslr camera, and pulled the new tv off the stand and destroyed it - kicked it, jumped on it or beat it with something. Upstairs they destroyed my husbands external monitor and filled their bags with TWO JEWELRY BOXES of jewelry I have collected over the last 40 years. Woops...41 years.

The majority of the jewelry missing are earrings and bracelets from my friend Jenny. 8 years of buying from and working for her jewelry. Also missing are diamond earrings, a diamond pendant, several gold/semiprecious rings and gold bracelets, lots of silver including a couple tiffany pieces, john hardy bracelets and my pandora bracelet full of charms. Some costume stuff, but mostly gold and silver. My necklaces hang on a rack and thankfully that was untouched.

Not really sure how to put a price tag on a lifetime of baubles. $5k? $10k? UGH.


As I was crying hysterically over the missing jewelry, my almost 5 year old boy was so sweet and grown up. He calmly told me everything would be ok and that he was here for me. He asked if I wanted a hug. As we were hugging, he told me he was glad I wasn't home when the bad guys came because they could have shot me.

The thieves were clearly pissed that we had an alarm system. They destroyed the key pad and violently RIPPED IT OFF THE WALL...with a hand maddock. The hand maddock was still sticking out of the wall when we arrived...for effect, I'm sure.

Glass all over the floor...and in/on our shoes (because, you know, we take our shoes off at the front door and that's where they sit). Glass. 101 year old wavy glass. They just don't make it like that anymore.

Our cats, once again, were not harmed. I am sure they ran and hid when the window was smashed. Thank goodness.

So, here I am. 13 days later. The boy - yeah, he's sleeping in our bed. Because I want him there. Everyone I see with a backpack is a suspect. Every group of kids I see walking around the neighborhood are suspects. In my dreams I have staged elaborate sting operations where I end up shooting the thieve(s). In the face. With a shotgun.

Neighborhood email list has documented many of the break-ins, and there have been many recently. Witnesses of other break-ins, or attempted break ins, have seen a group of 3 teen/early twenty year old males in (apparent) action. One will walk up to the door, knock, and if no one answers, two of them will break in while the other stands guard. If someone does answer...they will ask if "so and so" is home. When they are told they have the wrong house, they leave.

Our awesome little street alone has been hit 7 times in the past 6-8 months. This is our 9th year in our house and we have never had a problem. Only incident I ever heard about from a neighbor was a stolen car...a car that was parked on the street and unlocked. I guess our windshield was smashed several years ago, but so were 20+ others in the neighborhood. Just distructive jerks with baseball bats. Not a huge deal.

I've seen how the economic downturn has hurt our neighborhood. There have been many foreclosures. There are now many houses boarded up. I have been thinking about photo documenting it...but don't want to attract any (more) bad press. And now, I don't have a camera anyway. It seems as if the bubble has popped.

We love our house. We love our neighborhood. We love our neighbors. We don't want to move. We don't want to let the skumbags win.


I don't really like dogs. And I'm worried about my 12 year old cats. They go ape shit bonkers if someone brings a dog up on our porch. I don't want to stress them out. They're old. And they are our first babies. BUT, we are considering a dog. Talking about it. A puppy. A puppy who grows up into a big ass dog. Hubby wants a German Shepard. We have not said a word about it to the boy, because you know he REALLY WANTS A DOG. He's been asking for one since he could talk.

Eventhough I am upset about the weight gain from this medication, the meds do help keep me sane. Otherwise I think I would be committed to a mental facility by now.