After a healthy dumping of snow and cold weather here in Michigan, temperatures are coming back up and spring is right around the corner! Now I’m still wearing a sweater and long pants, but I couldn’t resist the flip-flops 🙂
It sure is nice to sit on the deck while Piper plays, watching the kids get off the school bus (my own kids of course, I’m not a creeper).
I mentioned last week that some good things were happening with regards to our dog, Piper. A little background first: We adopted Piper a little over a year ago, when she was only 6 weeks old. She was a rescue puppy, so they really had no idea what her breed was. We have come to believe that she is partly Australian Cattle Dog. This explains the big ears and the high energy. High energy is kind of an understatement, hence the hyper reference. I swear she wasn’t like that when we chose her, or when we named her. I guess it was just a coincidence that it rhymes.
The other part of this story is that I am not a dog person. I am far from it. I am related to dog people, have numerous friends who are dog people, and yet I got none of it. But here I am, a dog owner, because my husband and children love dogs. I find it nearly impossible to say I love dogs (just being honest here), but especially impossible to say I love THIS dog. BUT!! I am slowly but surely coming around to, well, not hating her. I’m even starting to  feel some level of affection for her.
How did this happen? Well, it all started over Christmas break, after an enlightening conversation with my mother-in-law (one of the best dog-lovers I know). I was complaining about Piper sticking her nose in our laps during dinnertime, and so she explained to me how she trained her dog to leave the kitchen when she said “OUT”. That simple. She would say it and point, and he would leave. Just like that. I was kind of dumbfounded that this could not only be possible, but could also be that simple. Nevertheless, I went home with a new sense of hope and purpose.
The next week when we sat down for dinner as a family and Piper tried to insert herself into our laps, I got up and steered her right out, pointing my finger and firmly telling her “OUT.” Three days in a row I did this and on that fourth day do you know what happened? We sat down for dinner, said our prayer, and proceeded to eat without distraction – !because she was gone!. I was halfway done eating before I realized she was nowhere to be found. She knew our routine and had sent herself out of the kitchen! Victory!
That dinnertime victory was just the beginning. As it turns out, she’s a pretty smart dog. But I’ve gotta believe that I can be smarter. I have a college degree for Pete’s sake (and access to the internet lol). We have since taught her more tricks, like going to her “spot” (a corner in the kitchen), touching an outstretched hand with her nose, barking on command, and even playing dead when we say “Bang!”. We’ve noticed since teaching her these things on a regular basis that she has mellowed down a great deal, and seems overall better behaved. She doesn’t bark at the windows nearly as much during the day and she doesn’t pull on her leash the way she used to when we walk her.
Now the real end goal here is to teach her how to properly greet guests who come to our door. This is where she struggles the most, and the times when I most despise her. She is what I like to call “aggressively friendly” and wants to bark and jump on everyone who comes to the door. From everything I’ve read up to this point, a key in teaching dogs not to do this, is to ignore them until they are behaving properly (that’s a simplified version, of course). Of course all of my dog-loving friends and family love it when she comes to the door and they pet her and talk to her and when I’m standing behind her shouting “Piper, no! Down, Piper!”, they just say “oh it’s ok, she’s fine, I love dogs”. They think they are helping, they really do. But they really are not. I’ve only recently learned this. The reason they are not helping is because she is being rewarded for her bad behavior. And the older she gets, the harder it’s going to be to change the behavior. So, I’ve decided to be more intentional about my training with her, and to educate our wonderful friends and family on how to respond to her, as I am learning myself.
I realize that up to this point, I have no one to blame but myself. But I am taking control! I have unofficially enrolled myself in puppy training 101, and I don’t care how long it takes. I am going to train this dog to be a good dog. You know, so I can love her, for real.
This is a picture of me, in my happy place. Cuddled up in a quiet house, crocheting and sipping hot coffee. Not pictured: Piper-girl napping at my feet (the dog, of course).
Happy snowy Wednesday from Michigan!
In some of the circles I associate with, people with MS will often say, “I have MS, but MS doesn’t have me.” It’s a statement meant to convey courage and determination that MS will not keep them down. They are not willing to admit defeat. And while I’m not one of those who often repeats that phrase, I definitely agree with the sentiment.
However, I came to a realization about a month ago. In some ways, MS did “have” me. Sure, I still smile and make jokes, and I don’t complain much about the invisible symptoms I’m experiencing. But on some level I was still letting the diagnosis limit me.
I’ve never been a fan of running, but I do acknowledge the benefits of it. My siblings are runners, one cousin, a few friends. They all thoroughly enjoy the experience of it. Also, my son loves to run, and we’ve talked over the past year about running a 5k together. I know my body can’t run a 5k at this point, but I haven’t been training for it. Why? Because I was scared. Mostly scared of losing my balance mid-stride and falling flat on my face, but also afraid that on the last lap my nerves would decide to stop communicating with my feet and I would not only fall, but land myself in another full-blown relapse.
There are so many problems with this thinking. One, I’m letting fear make the decision for me. I don’t care for making any decisions out of fear, ever. Two, there is absolutely no record, that I know of, of exercise causing an MS relapse. It just doesn’t happen.
And I don’t know how I came to this realization exactly, I just remember that I did. And when I did, I got mad. But only long enough to let it motivate me to do something about it. So I decided to make a commitment to getting on the treadmill DAILY, and we would just see how it goes. Treadmill running is not ideal, but it works. I get to stay home, so I can run in my pajamas (and I do, believe me). It doesn’t matter what the weather is like outside, so there is no room for excuses there. And there are handles to hold onto in case I start losing my balance. It’s a win all around.
I’ve been running for 3 weeks minus most of last week (self-diagnosed bronchitis) and I’m feeling stronger already. My energy level definitely feels more balanced than it was. Also, I’ve lost 3 pounds I didn’t expect to lose, so that’s an added bonus. Love it when my pants fit better! I’m on a couch to 5k program. It’s supposed to be 3 times per week, but I’m doing it every day because I know it would feel like I’m skipping a day and then I would just lose momentum. So that’s victory #1.
Victory #2 involves the training of our dog. It’s actually a lot of little victories, so I’ll save that explanation for another post later this week. I promise I’ll try to make it sound as exciting as I feel. I guess if you have any idea how much I have hated this dog (but don’t anymore), you will be able to share in my excitement. So stay tuned, folks! I’m still here!
Hmm. Well, I’ve kind of been feeling a blog post on the edge of my fingertips for some time (a couple weeks, not long), but now that I find the time and manage to sit down at my computer I’m at a loss for words. Isn’t that funny how that works? But now that I’ve started I’m sure the words will come. It usually happens like that. Usually.
Remember how I said I wanted to write a book? That’s not really all that true anymore. I love writing, yes, but the book idea was kind of daunting. It was never really my idea. Lots of people told me, after all that had happened to me in such a short period of time, that I should write a book. And I do love to write, so I thought it made sense. But I really never felt a nudge from God on that. He was pretty clear with me about writing this blog, and sharing my stories with others, but that was it. I do love to share my stories, when I can remember them, so I’m sure it’s possible that some day down the road we’ll get those stories all gathered together in a book, but I’m no longer putting pressure on myself to make that happen.
So I’ve decided to focus on other things lately. I am focusing on embracing the gift of each moment, embracing this new life I’ve found myself in. What does that look like? Nothing really out of the ordinary, really. Taking care of our home, taking care of the kids. Spending time with my family and friends. Wrestling tournaments, Girl Scout troop meetings, class parties, shopping trips. All blissfully ordinary things.
I don’t want to bore you with the details of those ordinary things, but I do want to explain why they are so significant to me. When I lost my hearing and my vision 2 1/2 years ago and I was in the hospital, they weren’t sure I was going to make it. But I did, I made it. And the recovery process that followed was tough on all of us, but I finally feel like we have made it THROUGH. We, as a family, have recovered, adjusted, adapted, and we are moving on with our lives. Granted, it’s quite different than what we may have envisioned, but I am firm in the belief that it is better. We have challenges, yes, but we are better off in spite of those challenges. Or maybe, perhaps, because of those challenges.  Life is good, folks. Real good.
“Every day is new again
Every day is yours to win
And that’s how heroes are made”
“Every Day is Yours to Win” ~R.E.M.
I get these daily Upper Room devotionals sent to my email. I For the past couple of months I’ve been deleting them along with the rest of my junk mail, without even opening them to see what the subject of the day was.
Today for some reason I decided to open the email.
The subject? Hearing aids. More specifically, that it is such a gift that we don’t have to have perfect hearing to hear from God. He finds ways to speak to us in all sorts of ways. We just have to be listening. Well, I’m listening now.
I love how God sneaks his way back in to my wandering heart.
Today I helped out at my daughter’s Girl Scout troop meeting. It’s fun, being able to do stuff like that. And I know she loves having me a part of it too.
But dang, you throw a mess of six year old girls at a table full of crafts, and you have a hearing challenge on your hands! They all want to talk at the same time and when they do, they don’t speak very loudly. So when my cochlear implant batteries died off halfway through, it really didn’t bother me too much. I was mostly relying on lipreading, body language, and facial cues either way. The girls mostly raised their hands when they needed help, and I was usually able to guess what they needed. Escorting a few girls to the restroom to wash the glue off their hands was quite the adventure. Just watching them all giggling and smiling was fun. It kind of felt like I was in a silent movie. Like Buster Keaton or Charlie Chaplin, but in color. So weird.
I will say, however, that it did pose some unwanted challenges as I was unable to chat with the adults. That will hopefully be the last time I forget to put on fresh batteries before heading out for the night!
I discovered this morning that my phone and it’s case were sticky. Correction: ARE sticky; I still haven’t bothered to clean it. And I have no clue what kind of sticky it is or where it came from. Probably syrup? Also, since I don’t let the kids touch my phone (anymore) I can’t blame them.
That, my friends, is your daily snippet for the week (see what I did there?) 😉
Words are percolatin’ in my brain, just can’t seem to serve ’em up. Just wanted to say hi and wish you all a happy, sticky day!
Lately I have found myself saying that I feel like I’m that shy 1st grader, newly transplanted to a new town, new school, new kids to befriend. I am certainly not that shy girl anymore. If this whole plunge into deafness and visual impairment has taught me anything, it’s how to talk to new people (doctors, nurses, receptionists, etc.). But still that 1st grader rears her frizzy toothless head every now and then. I’m slowly making new friends here in this new town, in this new neighborhood, but not all that gracefully. I feel like I’m stumbling and tripping as I do it. It makes for awkward moments, but either no one notices or they are comforted to learn they are not alone. I just hope it’s the latter.
What do you think? Am I too old to be feeling this way? Does it matter?
Little M.S. Runner 