Finley has a bit of a problem with cussing, with some of his earliest phrases being such decidedly not G rated language like “Dammit, it’s out of batteries.” His latest phrase is calling all persons, places, and things, a bunch of “bullshid.” Normally, I try to redirect his foul mouth down more appropriate avenues (“scalliway” and “horse hockey” are two of my temporary successes), but…
This is the time of year when I typically look out the window at the beautiful sunshine pouring down on my disastrous backyard and think, “Boy, that snow sure did a good job covering all the garbage.” I have a list sitting in the back of my mind of all the things that I should be doing to make my house HOA approved. It pulses…
A while ago, I had what could charitably be called an online debate with a person who insisted that humans had discovered nearly everything there was to know in one particular medical field. Sure, we’d keep a few researchers around just in case, but all the good stuff was discovered and settled. This, despite me pointing to many, many scientists and doctors saying that we’ve barely…
Life is filled with difficult decisions. White or Wheat? Black or Pinto? Yell at the person who puts the toilet paper roll on the wrong way? Most of the million decisions we make are minor and have no lasting consequence other than maybe a long afternoon popping Pepto. Other decisions leave a mark for years to come. Letting Finley use Therapy Putty falls decidedly in the…
Ed. note: I discovered this unpublished post last night. I wrote it several months ago and never posted it because the tone was a bit too dispirited (as we felt about the back seat happenings at the time ) and I couldn’t figure out how to lighten it up. I’m happy to say that things, while not perfect, have definitely improved since then. What happened to…
As we were walking out the doors of the Dumb Friends League, a volunteer called out after us. “She is the sweetest dog here,” she pressed, “and old dogs need homes too.” Chloe really was a sweet dog, I couldn’t deny that. Her chances of finding a home were dwindling. She was already eleven, surrendered with a sister dog who had long since been adopted, and already…
Finley was nervous. He’d been talking about it for days with an electric undercurrent, simultaneously bragging and seeking reassurance. “It looks like this,” he’d say, holding his hands together to make a circle, “like a donut.” Then, finally, Friday came. From the moment he woke up until the actual event late in the evening, Finley couldn’t stop talking about it. “Is my MRI now? Are we going…
We made an impromptu trip to the mountains a couple weekends ago. It was still in the grueling weeks of Busy Season, but after leaving the office Saturday, I decided we needed to run around in giant hamster balls and relax in the hot springs. The hamster balls we accomplished in Frisco thanks to a present Amy gave me for my birthday. It helped me appreciate…
I had to use the clickbait title. The post was begging for it. Anyway, I’ve been pretty open about the difficulties we’ve been having with Finley over the past month or so, which haven’t so much subsided as become an expected part of life. While at times I’m on the verge of jumping off the Serenity Now ledge into the pit of insanity, especially considering…
Since converting this blog into more of a family blog, one thing I’ve worried about is the perspective the ten or so people who read it will have of my kids. I’m especially concerned that I’m conveying an overly negative view of Finley. Maybe that’s just on my mind thanks to my last post. Or maybe it’s because I’ve been more annoyed with him than normal over the…