So I have somewhat dropped off in my reading lately, not for lack of desire to read, more the lack of time. By the time I have any time to read, it is after 10:30 and that is cutting into the other thing that I love and never get to do....sleep. So it took me a few months but I finally finished my second
Kindlebook
The Constant Princess by Philippa Gregory. This chronicles the early days of King Henry's First wife-Katherine. It was a great look into the life of this Spanish Princess who was
betrothed
early in childhood to The Prince of Whales and grew up knowing that she was born to be Queen of England. What I particularly loved about this book was not only looking into this part of Tudor England but also getting a look into Spanish History. Having traveled to Spain during high school and visiting several of the places at are discussed in this book was lovely. I also liked that Gregory looks into the reality that religious life played in both England and Spain during this time period. The last thing that made me fall in love with the book is it gives a chilling look into what made King Henry the way he was and why he became the scary autocrat that he was. I would highly recommend this book to any historical fiction buffs, my only complaint I will make is that I wished I had read this book first in Gregory's Tudor books. I think it was a much better starting point then anywhere else. I would give this book a 4 out of 5.
So this is just a quick post about the Mother Load of all tantrums my son had two weeks ago. It was a typical day in the Momma Hunt home and something set my little cherub off. Who knows maybe the wind blew the wrong way, maybe I looked at him wrong, or most likely he was cranky from holding going to the bathroom because he is stubborn and potty training. Well he throws a big ole fit, so we gently place him in his room (i.e. he is carried kicking and screaming and dumped on the floor while shutting the door on the rage) and he continues to work it out in his room. No work it out involves screaming, crying, throwing things, and hitting his little fists on the door. We after about ten minutes he starts to calm down and I go to the door to check on him and talk to him post tantrum and as I get to the door, there is a smell......moms you know the smell that has come to mean, its time to get the wipes. So I ask him if he had an
accident
in his
pull up
and a sweet small voice says "No" my reply "Then why does it smell like poops" then I open the door and there it is. THE
MOTHERLOAD
(literally) a huge poop right on the floor in front of the door. This is when Momma Hunt lost whatever was left of her mind and went crazy. I was crying and laughing, and yelling to my husband "He shit on the floor, he got so pissed he shit on the floor"
That's
right folks my son got so worked up that he pooped in his
pull up
and was jumping and kicking and pounding on the door so hard, the poop feel out of his
pull up
. Literally, the
Motherload
of all tantrums.
Motherhood is so
glamourous
This is a post dedicated to my first babies-Rocky my Doxie and Sweetpea my beagle. Both of them were adopted shortly after our one year anniversary (which was five years ago this week). They were the love of our lives and now that they are gone it has been tough.
To Rockefeller WaggyBottom (aka Rocky): You were a spitfire from the second you came home. You had more attitude in your little paw them most dogs can ever dream of. Perhaps you didn't understand that you were only 14 pounds, but I didn't care I loved it. I loved your sass, your worship me tude' and I fell for it. I feel in love with you head over heels and there was nothing I wouldn't do for you or let you have. I remember your little dance that you did at me feet till I picked up up, your insistence on weekends that it was unacceptable that you sleep in your bed past 6am and how you needed to snuggle in the big bed (all the while digging your little feet into daddies back). I loved how you would bark at any dog who walked by the house trying to tell them it was yours. I remember how you cried like you were on the rack the day we brought Sweetpea home because she was totally raining on your parade (yet you protected her and bossed her around soon enough). I loved how on snowy days you would look outside see the snow, look over your shoulder and give us the look like "I don't do snow" or how you would always wait at the bottom of the steps to be picked up like a prince because you were too good for stairs. I loved everything about you and never understood how it could be that you would get sick and need to leave us so soon. Then I realized why yesterday, Sweetpea would need you to be there when she got there, she always needed you to protect her.
To Sweetpea Pumpkin Pie-You are my sweetheart, the dog with a heart of gold. It has always brought be great sadness to know that you were treated so horribly before we took you home. I have no idea who could have been so awful to such a beautful and sweet pup like you. Yet it was evident in every step you took, every look you gave that someone was awful to you, but yet somehow you managed to be sweet and loving and wonderful. We always knew that you wouldn't be a "typical" dog but we loved you so much anyways. I loved the way you tolerated your brother bossing you around, except that one day when you got so mad you started snarling at him and darned if he didn't try to steal your bed again. I loved the way you refused to sleep or sit on anything other than your bed or the furniture. Only the way a dog who never had something soft to sleep on before would do. I loved to see you on walks so happy with your tail wagging like nothing in life was better than that moment. I never stopped being amazed at how good you were with kids and babies. I remember when Dylan discovered your eyes and for a good six months would try and grab them and you would patiently let him never even flinching. Most of all I loved how when petting you, you would snuffle in our ear. We decided long ago that was your way of saying you loved us. You were a fighter, you fought a hard life before we met you, you fought to get over your past and live a happy life with us, you fought through your devastating back injury, and you fought to the last second of your last breath. For that I will always be amazed and love you for.
Most of all I loved you both, more than someone probably should love an animal and I miss you both so much it sometimes hurts to breath. I just loved you so so much, I loved you enough to let you go.
So another weigh in and I was down 1.8 pounds which is really good considering we went out to eat last night and I had fat free coconut icecream, and it is a cool 101 here in CT. Yet, I can't help obsessing about my overall short term goal of 25. For me to make it to that I need to average a wee bit over two pounds a week, I know I set a lofty goal but I am nursing and I know you can drop some serious pounds when you are, plus if I set pussy goals I would put up pussy performance. So I guess I will take this 1.8 and shut up. Also, on a sadder note it looks like today is going to be the day for my little girl. We are going to the vet today at 2 to talk to the vet and as long as he says he's ok with it we are going to put her down. It breaks my heart but I do think it is time.
Warning, not a happy post. This past September our pet beagle Sweetpea suffered a fall down our front steps and slipped a disc which led her to be paralyzed in her back half. After a very expensive stay in the Vet hospital she was able to come home and do rehab and get some of her mobility back. She spent months in her crate and now can walk, not well, and can never do stairs again. Which is tough because we live in a raised ranch. So she must be carried upstairs (which is painful for her) or she stays in her crate. On top of that she has lost her sight. This breaks my heart because she is a stray that we adopted who was horribly horribly abused. She is not a typical dog, she doesn't like toys, balls, or even really seeks out attention. She does love to be pet and snuggled but only if you go over to her. She has to be on what I refer to as puppy Prozac just to keep her stable and not having stress diarrhea. We love her dearly but we have come to the conclusion that she is a burden that is too heavy to handle with two kids, and more than that her quality of life is not good. My husband is more ok with this then I am because he is the one the mainly takes care of her. I am having a harder time mainly because she is such a generally sweet dog who has had a horrible life and I wish there was more we could do. Also, two years ago this October we put our other dog down (that dog was my world and it crushed me to put him down) and I feel that Sweetpea is our last connection to that dog. I can't imagine living in a house without a dog but I am thinking that the only reason we haven't done this sooner is because we are selfish and not thinking of what is best for her, then I question of the reverse is true, are we putting her down because it would make our lives easier. Then this AM when I took her out to go potty I bent down and pet her and looked into her eyes and saw what I did in my other dogs eyes which was sadness and that it was time. Now, the only unanswered thing in my mind is what do I tell my son about his dog. I can't even begin to think about that now.
