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December 22, 2004
On Sunday, December 19th we had to make the very difficult decision to put our dog, Koko, down. Koko was almost thirteen years old, a boxer and perhaps the sweetest dog I’ve ever known. For about a week Koko had been experiencing some incontinence – peeing on the carpet even when we were home and able to let her out. That is not at all like her. We had made an appointment at the vet to determine if she had a bladder infection. That Sunday morning when we woke up it was clear Koko wasn’t well. She was struggling to walk – her back legs giving out on her. She vomited profusely, struggled to even lay down and clearly wasn’t herself. Our veterinarian doesn’t keep Sunday or emergency hours, so John waited until the emergency vet opened at 10:00am and drove Koko there. The short version was that she had profound arthritis in her spine and lower legs, a problem with her hip, but more seriously her heart was enlarged to three times its ‘correct’ size and her liver was failing. The vet advised that she could give Koko medicine to address the pain for the arthritis and hip, but it would cause further, accelerated damage to her liver. The bottom line was Koko was only going to be with us another few days under the best of circumstances.
John and I had a very tear-filled conversation and decided the kindest thing we could do was put her down. I’ve said it before, but it bears repeating, my husband is a wonderful man. He stayed with Koko while they administered the shot that would stop her heart. He didn’t want her to be alone. He called Meghan and Lane, who were at their mother’s house. It was important for them to bury Koko in a special spot – they wanted to see her again. So John brought Koko home, he picked up Meghan and Lane and they went out to bury her. We are all very sad. Koko was John’s dog before we were together. Meghan and Lane can only just barely recall a time when she wasn’t with them. The house is very quiet. Koko’s bed is still in it’s place. Her goofy Christmas collar is tucked in the branches of our tree. Ava calls for Koko when we come in the house and in the mornings, sometimes she goes to the back door where we would let her out and points and says her name – it makes me want to cry. The other night I asked John what we should say to Ava – there is no way for her to understand. His answer again reinforced why I think he is the best person I know. He said, “I am choosing to believe that Ava can see Koko out there playing in snow. I don’t want to tell her otherwise.”
I didn’t think I was going to write an update before Christmas, but things have been so darn slow at work this week I’ve had little else to do but sit over lunch and type away at some of the things that have been on my mind or random happenings – like for instance – this hallway conversation that just happened:
Nosy Co-worker: Ava must be so excited for Christmas!
Me (trying to be friendly): Oh I don’t think she really understands enough to be excited. But she loves the Christmas tree. We’re trying to figure out how to get it out of the house after Christmas without breaking her heart.
Nosy Co-worker: So you’ve got to be about ready to have another one.
Me (thinking none of your d*mn business): Oh, we’ll see.
Nosy Co-worker: C’mon, Ava needs a sibling.
Me (growing horns): Actually she has two siblings who love her very much.
Nosy co-worker: But they’re not REALLY her brother and sister.
Me (sprouting fangs): They seem pretty real to me and they’re certainly real to her.
Nosy co-worker: But it’s not the same.
Me (spitting fire, turning on heel, walking away): mutter, mutter, mutter….
I don’t even know how to articulate all the things that really p”*ss me off about that little exchange. To start, the possibility of having another child rattles around in my head still, despite the very long list of reasons why this is not very practical to consider I’m not ready to say I’m done having children and I am certainly not ready to talk about why I think we probably won’t with someone I work with. (I mean, really, I suppose I could give her the weblink to this diary if she’s that curious…) I am very sensitive to the relationship between Meghan, Lane and Ava. I never, ever, ever use the phrase “half-sister” or “half-brother” when referring to them. When people ask me how many children I have I usually say something like “We have three, one together and two of my husband’s from a previous marriage.” I don’t want to deny biology. I don’t want to pretend that I am Meghan and Lane’s mother, but my family is very important to me. And they are my family. I’ll admit I feel differently about Meghan and Lane than I do about Ava, but not just a ton different. Meghan and Lane are Ava’s brother and sister, they will be here for her when we’re gone, they’ll tell her goofy stories about their dad, help her choose her wedding dress, be protective of her when she starts to date. At least that’s what I fervently hope. Not real my a**.
Moving on….
I’ve noticed lately that Ava’s attention span is starting to lengthen a little bit. That is kind of a relief. I didn’t realize how exhausting it was to try to stay engaged with an active toddler, curious about everything, for about 90 seconds at a pop. The other night Ava and I got home, we looked at the mail, I got her some milk and she asked me for some Triscuits (two – even though I’m not sure she knows what ‘two’ means) and to watch ‘Nemo.’ I put in the DVD, gave her the milk, two Triscuits and her ‘nanny’ (blanket) and had ten whole minutes to put some chicken in the oven and start some broccoli steaming. It was so civilized.
Our little girl is such a bread fiend. Really anything starchy. She’s been on a kick lately with this raisin bread made by Wonder. It is actually chock full of raisins, so there does seem to be a little bit of a redeeming quality. For breakfast in the morning she pounds down two slices of raisin bread and usually a whole banana. Frankly that is more than I eat for breakfast. She is quite actively rejecting meat. We made some chicken and rice this week and I cut the chicken up into small pieces, mixing it with the rice. She picked around it. I worry a bit about how much protein she gets… But I’ll keep offering. She’s only marginally interested in peanut butter or eggs. At least she gets plenty of milk and some cheese.
I finally finished my holiday shopping on December 21st. The last gift purchased? A handbag for my mom. She is so hard to buy for… This is going to sound terrible, but she doesn’t seem to appreciate anything. It’s like I put all this time and thought into a gift she might really like and she opens it with a ‘hmmm, that’s nice’ even if I know she loves it. What’s that all about? My sister and I went in on one of those fun handbags made by Uggs. It’s ruby red, fur lined, very cute and trendy without being over the top. I hope she likes it. And don’t bother coming to my TTM board and tell me that Uggs are so ‘out.’ I love mine, I’m going to keep wearing them and I think the purse is fabulous. That has to be one of the benefits of living in Iowa – we tend to be a bit behind the times, so we can stretch a trend a little longer! With things being so dreadfully slow at work I may actually bail out early on Thursday to wrap some gifts and clean some house. We’ll see. Right now I just feel kind of ready to get going on the season.
One of the things I really dislike about this time of year is all the little junkie stuff people at my office buy for each other. Every day I come to my office and there’s a little gift – a pad of paper, a coffee mug… That may sound sort of Scrooge-like, but I don’t need it, I don’t want it! It is nice to be remembered and thought of, but a card would really serve that purpose just fine for me. In turn I spent the better part of the weekend baking cookies and packing tins to gift to people who’ve given me little things. I don’t mind the baking, but I don’t like the obligation. My other dilemma this season was buying gifts for the day care ladies. I want to acknowledge the love and care they provide my daughter, but there are FIVE of them who rotate through the room. I bought matching lotion/bath gel for each of them, but I didn’t feel very creative or thoughtful doing it.
I need some assistance – for reasons passing all understanding I can’t figure out how to upload a digital picture into my TTM board. I was going to seek, good, objective, anonymous advice about whether or not I should get a “big girl” hair cut. But how can you advise if you can’t see what it looks like? I’m putting the link to our Babies Online account with the qualifier that I haven’t updated it in about five months. I’m having trouble sizing the pictures for some reason. All John will tell me is “I think you have really pretty hair, but you should do what you want to it.” In a way I’m itching for a change, in a way I like having it long. Time-wise I only have to wash it every other day – on the ‘off’ day it is a snap, on the day I wash it is an hour. Blah.
http://babiesonline.com/babies/p/patito/
password = Patito
Right now my mind is wandering to anticipating giving people the gifts I’ve picked out for them. I can’t wait to see Meghan open her iPod mini. I know Lane will be thrilled with the Xbox. (Do we tell him the lengths we had to go through to get it? Thank goodness my sister works at the Best Buy corporate HQ – that thing is sold out EVERYWHERE) I can’t wait to see how Ava responds to all the festivities. I can’t wait to get a picture of her in her Christmas Eve dress. My head’s not here and I don’t have much else to say, so I think I’ll close. Again, happy holidays.
Thanks for reading—
--Kate
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