No Excuses


There are a lot of really ugly people in this world, those who harm others, animals, etc., and who don’t have an ounce of compassion for anyone. Why are they this way? Could they have had an unspeakable upbringing, and are forever damaged?

This is a HUGE pet peeve of mine, those who blame their bad childhood for these atrocities. Killing, raping, abusing others verbally and physically, etc., it’s all so monstrous, and yet with further probing, some of these monsters get off on insanity pleas, or have psychological issues due to damage their family members have burdened them with.

I’m here to tell you, that I do have compassion for those who fight these demonic battles, but I have NO sympathy or tolerance for their excuses to hurt others.

I could have let my childhood take me down a dark path, to where there was no outlet. That would have been the EASY route.   Instead, I have chosen a different path, and because of that, I have a greater empathy towards others and I find myself wanting to protect those who fall victim.  That is where I find myself, and that is where I am staying.

You have to nurture yourself, and protect your innocence.  No one else is going to do that for you. Those memories are nothing but that, memories, and they will never become a reality again if you don’t let them. Look forward and focus on all of the little things that will become bigger things, and will blossom right before your eyes, if you allow yourself to see them.

I have lived it, I am familiar, and I will never forget, but damned if I make someone else feel the way that I did.

Peace Out!!  :)

Heaven on Earth


Bailey and I have a very bonded relationship.  Reagan is more of a struggle, because he seems to need more from me as a parent.  A couple of years back, however, was without a doubt, the best night of my life as a mother, and a night I’ll never forget.

Bailey and I had a routine at bedtime, where she laid on my shoulder and I would rub her head.  It soothed her and helped her fall asleep. I cherished those nights.

I could feel Reagan edging closer and closer, which made me want to giggle, because I know he was trying to be nonchalent.  I asked him if he wanted me to rub his head, and he made a face and said, “no way”, and moved away from me. He let out a few frustrated sighs, and reluctantly laid his head on my shoulder.

So there I laid, with BOTH of my children on my shoulders, rubbing their heads.  I made up a silly story about a superhero, and they took turns telling parts of the story.

“Reagan was STRONG, and he flew high up into the sky, but then he ran into a….”

“HORSE!!”, Bailey squeals.

“And the horse had wings, and this beautiful…..”

“BOOGER!”, Reagan says.  :\

The stories would always get so crazy and they would laugh so hard at the twists and turns of it.

It was my happy place, but this night, I had them both.  I stroked their heads, and they both fell asleep. It was heaven on earth, like they were babies again.


Postpartum is more common than you think

Reagan & Mom

I had post postpartum depression with Reagan.  I know this now, but I did not know it then. I was ashamed of the way that I felt, and I did not know how common it was.

Reagan was my first, and I was over the moon when he came into this world. There was something off, though, and it was a very confusing time for me.  I felt empty, as if I were in the darkness and couldn’t find my way around.  I had this little human in my arms, and no clue what to do with him.  He was this ball of fatness, with these long eye lashes.  His chubby fingers wrapped around my index finger as if he were holding on for dear life.

He knew.  He knew that I was in this place that I couldn’t pull out of.  He sensed my darkness, and he tried to pull me out.

Had I given birth at another hospital where they were more understanding, and had asked me how I was emotionally, perhaps I would have gotten help, and not struggled for so long.  Instead, they rushed me and Reagan out the door, after tossing me a diaper and wipes and saying he needed a change. I had never changed a diaper, and my hands were shaking.  I kept saying inside my head, “I can’t do this, I need help.”

My husband stepped up and took over, and off we went down to the car, where I struggled with the car seat and crawled to the back with my son.

My SON!!  I had a BABY.  A baby that looked up at me with adoration, with such a frantic neediness that scared the living hell out of me.  What if I let him down?  What if I couldn’t find my way to him???  Where was my nurturing instinct?  What was wrong with me?  I was a monster!!

I cried uncontrollably all the way home.  My husband and stepson looked at me with uneasiness.  They kept asking me what was wrong, and I kept telling them, “I don’t know, I don’t know.”  And I didn’t. I did not know why I was in this dark closet with a locked door.  I wanted OUT.

Days went by and I fell into the routine of a new mother, fumbling around and struggling to stay awake while I took care of all of Reagan’s needs.  I found myself in tears before I even knew I was crying, and wiped them away to start another day.

Postpartum depression is serious.  I am one of the lucky ones, because I did find my way to my son.  I was locked in the dark closet for under a week, and I will never forget the shame that I carried around with me.

I found my way back in the middle of the night, as Reagan was asleep on my chest, and I was watching a muted television.  He awoke and kicked around to look at me, so I pulled him up and cradled his head.  His eyes were very awake, more blue than I’ve ever seen them.

We stared at each other, for what seemed like a long time.  It was in that precious moment that I felt such a rush of love for him, that it physically hurt to look into his eyes.  The same eyes that were my mother’s, who I lost at age 18.  Dear God, my Reagan had my mother’s eyes.  I found myself in a fit of tears, and I kissed his chubby cheeks.

I had a baby.  This was my SON.  He loved me, and I loved him.  He was everything that I ever wanted, and this powerful urge to hold him so tight forever overcame me.

Do NOT ignore that feeling of postpartum depression.  Get help while you are still in the hospital, even if you are on medication temporarily.  Like I said, I was the lucky one, and many mothers have done harm to their children because of this feeling of emptiness, and loss of self identity.  It is hormonal.

I wanted to share my story, because I have family and friends who are expecting.  I wanted to let them know that this is common, and it is okay, but to address it if you find yourself in that dark closet.

Is Your Pet Missing?


You are missing your beloved pet, so what do you do??  I have compiled a list of important tasks for you to hit hard the MINUTE your pet gets away from you.  Time is of the essence.  If you don’t make the time to find your pet, you should not have that pet in the first place.

(1)  Depending on the temperament of your pet, walk or drive the neighborhood calling their name (duh, right?).  If they are food driven or skittish, carry treats or their favorite food.

(2) Knock on your neighbors doors and alert them, as well as any nearby stores or businesses.

(3) FLYERS, FLYERS, and more FLYERS….your neighborhood and the surrounding neighborhoods. Take them to local vets, businesses, etc. Consider having a poster made for your yard so that your lost pet doesn’t get forgotten by others in your community.

(4) Create the lost pet’s own facebook page, and make sure the privacy settings are on PUBLIC.


Read my prior blog about what can happen to your pet if you don’t search for him/her.  I created this story from the dog’s perspective.

(6) Go back home and post on ALL the following websites that you have lost your pet.  Include their name, description, and anything they were wearing at the time of the escape (collar, harness, clothing, etc.).  Also, include a picture of your pet and the closest main intersection where they went missing. Do NOT include your home address.

LOST DOG WEBSITES/FACEBOOK PAGES:  FYI, Facebook is a VERY strong source of networking.  If you know of someone without internet access, or they are not familiar with Facebook, help them out!!





Here are some other tips from the City of San Antonio:


Funny thing is….


I’m not sure what switched over in me recently.  I have a greater sense of empathy, and I thought I already was overflowing with that.  I admit that I am human, and I have made comments about others and made fun of them, like most people are guilty of doing.  I don’t really know anyone who has not, and it seems the true Christians are the most judgemental.

It is so easy to judge someone, but that is only their top layer. You don’t know what they live on a daily basis.  Everyone has hardships, loss, health issues, heartbreak, and disappointment.  When you make it all about you, you can’t see past yourself, and therefore, you cannot empathize with others suffering.

I have many obstacles in my life that make it impossible to sail through without a hitch.  I am always getting sidetracked, and I never take time for myself.  There are many others like me, that never have the opportunity to embrace their own self, and discover new wonderful traits….to truly over yourself.  Life gets in the way, and stopping to smell the roses…..well, that expression irritates me, because who has time to stop and smell the darn roses?  Lol.

Here is what I have noticed….walking outside on a beautiful day like today eases my mind. The sunshine, the silence (okay, so we live near an airport and the dogs are barking, but hey!)  We have these amazing sunsets, which I shared in another post.  I could LOSE myself in these sunsets, and I’m always taking pictures so that I have something to look at if I ever have to leave our home.

Everyone has something that comforts them. GO to that place more often and give yourself that time out. I’m trying myself…..really trying.  You just have to decompress, give yourself a break. Life is not easy, and it is impossible to stay positive 24/7.

Take the time to consider your word choices.  Hurtful comments do nothing, but place a weight on the other person.  Think about that weight that YOU carry, and how badly it affects you on a day to day basis.

Be kind to others.  You never know what their struggles are.

My Guardian Angel


Has anyone had a revelation out of the blue?  More specifically, have you been pumping gas, playing with the dogs, putting on your kids shoes, etc., and something very profound hits you like a ton of bricks. It either makes you feel warm and fuzzy, or it knocks the wind out of you. I’ve had this happen to me twice.  And I’m a lucky one, because both were warm and fuzzy. Don’t be shocked, now. Most of my posts are sad and all about my daily battles….this one is not.

I was driving to my ex-fiance’s house in Lake McQueeny.  I wasn’t listening to music because my mind was cluttered with many troubled thoughts.  It was silent, almost deafening, but it was what I needed at the time.

I drove over a hill and was met with a very dark sky.  There was an opening in the sky with a blinding light shining through it.  I could barely see and had to slow down.  I found it strange that this particular area of the sky was dark.  I slowed down and continued, when I felt a tingly feeling in my stomach, and it shot all the way down to my toes. It was an uneasy sensation at first, so I pulled over to the side of the road.  This particular road was always was always very busy, but today, there wasn’t another car in sight.  I sat there, staring up into this light that was glaring down on me.  Though it wasn’t really glaring, it was WATCHING.  Like someone was watching me, but not in a creepy way, in a protective way.  I felt my body grow warm, as if someone were wrapping their arms around me.  It made me shiver, but at the same time, my heart was beating so fast, and I wanted to NEVER leave this spot. I was there until it grew dark.  Leaving that spot would have been physically painful.

Till this day, I know it was my mother.  Watching over me, taking away my troubles, and making me feel her love.  I don’t have anything to hold on to of my mother’s.  Everything was given away.  But I will always have this day.

Don’t Worry, Be Happy



This kid…he wants me want to laugh with some of his comments, and at the same time, I want strangle him.  Ha, of course I don’t mean that, but every mother knows how boys can be, and they really do give you a run for your money.  This boy knows how to push my buttons, and does it every chance he can.

As a sibling to a special needs sister, Reagan does have different issues going on, though I’m not sure how to help him just yet.  He is very much about routine, and changing his routine does not sit well with him. He gets very agitated, sometimes cries, and is very out of sorts for awhile. He wants me to CARRY him to the couch in the mornings before school. He has a special handshake and a specific way to say goodbye to his dad while walking out the door for the bus stop. He has a similar ritual at bedtime with his dad.  If the ritual is disrupted, he will make his dad repeat it over and over again until it is just right.  He cannot rest until all is well.

He is VERY anxious if his bus is coming down the road, even though it is not anywhere close.  He is always stressed out about something, to the point where he will toss and turn at bedtime. He asks me, “what do we do if a tsunami comes?  What about a tornado?” And his studies….he asks me almost every single day, “if I don’t pass the STAR test, will I have to repeat the 3rd grade?” when he is a very smart boy, just tries to race his classmates and needs to slow down.

How can I take all of these burdens away from him?  I do pay attention to his reactions when his sister is having a meltdown, either screaming or thrashing about. He looks away from me, but I can see his lip trembling. I’ve spoken with him so many times, asking him what I can do, to make it all easier for him. I don’t think he knows how to express himself, but it causes him so much undue stress.  I just don’t want that for him.  It breaks my heart.

How do you take away your children’s worries?  Do you let them live and learn?  Do you coddle them and tell them that everything will be okay?

Happy Bleepity Bleep Valentine’s Day!


One of Bailey’s traits of autism is not understanding the concept of time.  Her least favorite statement, and one that is a trigger for her meltdowns, is “it’s not time yet”.  Oh boy, do we get a very reactive girl with that statement. And no, calendars do NOT work.  She sees the calendar come out, and watch out.

She really wanted to take her Valentine’s box to school today. It is just not time yet.  I had to assure her that I would have it for her after school, just to get her on the bus without screaming at poor Dorothy, her bus aide. And then I headed back to the house to forewarn her teachers that she was NOT a happy camper, and why.

This is my life. I have an autistic child.  I love her no more or no less because of it.  She is one that needs a lot extra, and it is very draining, but she is my daughter, and that is what you do.

I already know I’ll have another battle in the morning when she doesn’t leave with that bleep bleepity bleep Valentine’s box. If you feel the earth shudder, that would be her!!

A Sunset Just For Me


This is my favorite sunset picture thus far, and there have been a lot of very beautiful sunsets.  My grandparents bought this house 20+ years ago when I was 15 years old.  This is why they chose this house…the view in the backyard, where it just drops off.  There used to not be any homes down the bluff, but now there are.  It breaks my heart to see trees getting chopped and the wildlife scattering away from the noise of construction. It was their home first, after all.

This sunset was presented to me when I needed it the most.  Bailey was having a hard day and having serious meltdowns. She had punched me when I was trying to soothe her and stop her from hurting herself.  She calmed down eventually, and went to her room to play. Me, on the other hand….I tend to hold on to my stresses.  I was having a hard time breathing and I really just wanted to cry, but I didn’t. I saw this sunset outside and I went out to take a picture of it.

It took my breathe away with all of the different shades of oranges and pinks.  I believe that God made it just for me, to let me know that I was loved, that I was going to be okay. Bailey was going to be okay. All of my troubles sorta just went up into this mass of beauty, and I went back into my house feeling like I could move forward.

I can’t imagine not seeing sunsets every evening.  I grew up in this home.  There are very vivid memories of my Grandpa with his binoculars bird watching, and chuckling at squirrels chasing each other from tree to tree. Oh, how he loved squirrels. I can still see him with the water hose and that silly Gilligan hat, pouring water into the bird bath. I remember helping him put up a tall bird house, and a bat flying out of it and getting stuck in my hair. I still laugh about that, though I didn’t at the time.  I was the typical dramatic teenager with the Aqua Net hairspray, so this bat was stuck and I was a hot mess. I can’t imagine not envisioning my Grandpa walking around this home that was ours. When my Grandma passes, I will have the same memories of her. My Uncle Walter planted these gorgeous orange flowers, that have grown like a vine. They wind up one of our trees and are bright and lovely. I wish I could remember what they are called, but Uncle Walter’s memory lives here as well.

And my mother….this was the last time I saw her before the hospital where she died.  She came to see me. I was so nervous because it had been so long. I can still hear her loud cackle, she was so happy to be here. She fell back on my bed and clapped her hands as she laughed. Like a little kid, all giddy.  And then we laid in the hammock right on the bluff and were swinging there and talking. She told me a little bit about my dad, whom was not in my life. She told me she was sorry for all of her wrongs, and she told me how much she loved me. The next that I saw her, she was in the hospital and then she was gone.

This home means a lot to me. Not many understand that. There are memories everywhere, instilled in my heart. My children love it here and they know it as HOME. I  just can’t imagine leaving.

The Life of a Stray


Hi, my name is Georgia. I’m what humans call a yellow lab.

One morning I was chewing my femur bone out in the back yard.  The sun was so warm against my fur, and I stopped chewing to close my eyes, and take in the warmth.  I heard giggles from  my home, and stretched out my legs and yawned.  My little Savannah was such a delight.  Her giggles made me excited, and I’ve been working on not jumping on her, but I do get in trouble from time to time, because I just love her SO much.

I drifted off into the most luxurious and heavy sleep.  The sun was still soaking into my old body, and I exhaled deeply.

There was a squirrel calling my name.  “Georgia!!!  Come and get me, Georgia!!” over and over again.  My pumped  my legs like crazy. I awoke with a start and realized my beloved squirrel snack was all but a dream.  I yawned and went to work on my bone, tail wagging as I heard my Savannah squeal from the house.  I considered running in and giving her a good lick, but then….

There WAS a squirrel!!  I sat erect. I was as still as a huntress in the night, like a lioness stalking her prey. Oh squirrel, how you think you are so smart!!  I took a few steps towards the fence. He was standing right at the fence line, burrowing in the grass.  I started panting. I couldn’t help it.  I was an older gal, and my excitement was always very expressive.

I took off in a hurried state, though everything seemed like slow motion.   The squirrel quickly ran through a missing plank. I stopped short, sending a whirlwind of dirt every which way. If a dog could curse, now would be the time!

I pawed at the fence, which was actually pretty loose.  I could see that darn squirrel, sitting on the other side at the foot of a tree, taunting me with those crazy come hither eyes. Oh, you squirrel, I will show you a thing or two!!

I pawed and pawed, and dug and dug.  My legs started to get sore, but I did not stop.  I refused to let him get the better of me. Seriously, a little bitty squirrel, pulling one over Miss Georgia? Nope, not in MY yard!!

Suddenly, my heart thumped into my chest and I sucked in air with utter joy.  I had my opening!!!

Off I went through the fence, tearing after that squirrel, who proceeded to take cover in the tree. I barked and barked for what seemed like hours.  I told him to come down, to meet his maker, but he would not budge. He sat up there, and I could have sworn that he danced on that branch, telling me, “you can’t get me”!  OH, I hated that squirrel!!!

But wait, there were OTHER squirrels!! Oh, the possibilities!!!!  I ran from tree to tree, chasing these juicy little rodents, barking at them and jumping up onto the trees as far as my tired body would let me.  Stretching and bending and barking and panting.  Why must these squirrels torment me this way?  Do they have nothing better to do?

I sat my rear down to catch my breath. Surely, there was a bowl of water somewhere?  Hmmm, nope.  I stretched out, panting like crazy.  My heart was beating so hard that I thought it might burst.  I sat for awhile to catch my breath.  I didn’t know where I was.  I was lost.

It was getting dark and cold.  I picked myself up, and started trotting from street to street, until I met a treeline.  The trees loomed over me like a menacing shadow.  Dare I enter?  I went for it, because I was a brave big girl, and there was nothing that would ever scare me, surely not dark woods. Besides, there was probably a puddle or lake for me to drink out of.  My throat hurt and my legs ached from my adventure.

I walked for what felt like miles, and then found refuge in a large bush.  I laid down in the middle of it, and listened.  A stick  cracked, as if someone were walking by.  I frantically leaped out of my bush, very eager to find my owner standing there, leash in hand, telling me, “Georgia, why did you run away?”  But there was nothing there, but darkness.  Back I went, into my coven of safety.

There were many noises throughout the night.  Owls, more sounds of something walking, and a coyote in the distance. It grew very cold, and I couldn’t stop shivering.  I cried. I couldn’t help it.  I cried because my old bones were hurting, I was so cold, and I was scared of what would become of me. I was all alone.

Where was my Savannah?  Why wasn’t she looking for me?  Where were my owners?  Did the squirrels bring me here on purpose?  Were they leaving me to die, out here in the woods, all by myself?  I never slept that night.

The seasons changed, I think?  It got cooler in the mornings, but I found a special place on a huge boulder where the sun hit. It was big and warm and wonderful on my aching body. I watched butterflies and other wildlife go about their business around me. And the squirrels….well, I left them alone.

For about 12 nights, I walked and walked.  I ate berries, grass, leaves, dirt, rocks, and every now and then, I would come across an unsuspecting mouse or lizard, which were quite rubbery and got stuck in my teeth. My prowling abilities weren’t what they once were, so I grew very hungry. I did find a creek, and drank greedily all day.  The woods became my home, and my visions of my Savannah slowly slipped away from me.

I was done trying.  I found myself wandering in a daze, my head handing low.  Where was I going?  Who cared, as long as I kept moving. Maybe, just maybe, someone would take pity on me, and let me into their warm home. I yearned for pets, scratches. I yearned for my soft cushy bed.  I yearned for Savannah riding me like a horse. I wanted to crawl into her bed and feel her sleepy breath upon my nose. I’d open my eyes the next day, and she would still be gone. I was so very done.

When he caught me, I didn’t even know it.  Then I was wrangled and choked and thrown into a truck.  There were other dogs around me, in what appeared to be cages.  I wagged my tail, and was SO happy to see other dogs!!  Oh my, could this be it?  Could I be going to a dog park to play with my new friends?  But still…..there was something in my stomach that told me otherwise. And there was something scary and dark in my new friends eyes.

I was choked and wrangled again, out of the truck.  He barely let me put my feet on the ground, before dragging me to a huge building with more noisy dogs. I was trying to screech to a halt, but he kept dragging me and the gravel was cutting up my legs. I winced and whined, but he didn’t care. I stopped fighting, because I could feel the warm blood on my paws.  He pushed me into a cage.  I sat down and looked around.

There was a smaller white girl in the cage next to me.  She was no bigger than my squirrel enemies. She was shaking and crying.  On the other side was a very large Rottweiler looking boy, who leered at me.  He didn’t care for me, and I took a step back and laid down on the concrete. It didn’t feel cool like I thought it would. As a matter of fact, something was very wrong with everything.

My stomach growled. My body was throbbing. My paws were burning. I started licking, and I licked all the way until the sky grew dark outside the window.  The dogs around me never stopped barking.  I did not sleep again.

The next day, I sat up to the sound of voices.  Little humans!!!! Oh my god, oh my god, could it be her??  I paced the short length of my cage, sniffing the air and trying to smell her sweet lavender smell from her freshly washed hair.  I didn’t stop pacing until the humans were standing in front of me.  It was not my family. They looked different. They smelled different. They did seem nice, though, so I rolled over, and showed them how cute I was. It wasn’t very easy, because I was in so much pain, and my ribs were throbbing, too, but I did my best.  When I got back up, they were gone.  I watched them go into a little room.  A couple of minutes, a human came to retrieve the Rottie that didn’t like me, and he glanced  back at me with this look of defeat in his eyes. He went the other way, not the way that I had come in. I watched him disappear. My stomach was queezy.

I finally got some food and water and I gulped and chewed with a vengence, choking and spurting.  After my bowls were empty, I laid back down and took a little snoozer, but I could never fully drift off, because there was that one thing that wasn’t right.  Just wasn’t right.

The same voices!!  Here came that family again!!!! Oh my god, could they be coming for me?? I was beside myself with eagerness!!!  But then they stopped short, and another human opened the cage next to mine, and picked up the little white female that was so scared. She snapped and snarled at him, and the family ooh’d and ahh’d at her.  I pressed my nose through my cage to watch them. The little boy was staring at me. He put his fingers through my cage and I gave him wet kisses and wagged my tail.  I liked this boy.  He was a gentle little human. I sensed his kindness. I wanted to go with him, but he was quickly scolded to told that I had a disease!!  I most certainly did NOT!

They didn’t take me, they took the little biting female.  I watched them walk away from me, that little dog squirming frantically in their clutch, and the little boy looking over his shoulder at me.  He loved me, too.

The day was so long.  I heard many different voices and there were many different humans staring at me. Some were nice and fed me treats and touched me through the gate.  Some took paper from my cage and looked it at, and then were gone. I heard many different banterings like “old”, “senior”, “too big”, “injured”, “cataracts”, etc.

I was empty inside.  I hardly moved.  I longed to feel the sun, the hear the birds, to be back in my forest.  I closed my eyes and felt my Savannah’s touch, her little kisses on my nose. Oh, how I wanted to hear her lovely voice singing to me. I was so empty.

Days went on, families came in and out, and no one ever took me home.  I always looked for my person, my Savannah.  Surely she missed me?  Surely she wanted me back?  Where was my family?  Did they not love me anymore?  What did I do wrong?  I felt ashamed.

Humans came and went, and though I tried to appease them, I was defeated.  No one wanted me, and there was still that one thing that was off about this cage.

One rainy morning, I found out what that one thing was.

He came and got me.  At first I wagged my tail, because just maybe, he was taking me home. I studied his face and he never once looked into my eyes. He had a disconnect that was unfamiliar, terrifying. Panic set in. My heart was pounding, and I barked at him and pleaded with him the best I could.  I was a big girl, surely I could overpower him?  He was taking me somewhere, and it wasn’t to a home or a field of butterflies.  He was taking me to die.

So there you have it.  I had a home, and I was loved.  I wanted to play, and I got lost.  My family never came for me, so now I am dead.  He put a needle in my leg. I cried softly for my Savannah and could almost hear her lovely singing voice as I drifted away.