Was meeting Skyba a conincident?

Meeting Skyba

Do you believe in spirits talking to you from beyond the grave?  Are there truly any coincidences?  I know this story is going to sound strange but I feel like meeting Skyba was not an accident.  There is a part of me that believes this was Kong's mom talking to us, giving us a sign, and doing so because we asked her too.

The girls (Ayden being the driving force), have been asking for a pet.  We did some research, talked to dog owners, and visited shelters.  Armed with information we approached Kong. For two nights we tried to make a case.  We talked at great lengths about our research, begged and pleaded.  The girls were passionately arguing their point and Kong passionately defending his.  Kong threw his hands up and said something like, "I don't want to take care of a dog.  Having a dog is like having a baby.  I already had two babies.  Plus, I only have enough love to give to the two of you." 

There was no convincing Kong.  I knew that no one was going to give in so I said, in jest, let's let Puj Puj (which is grandmother from the husband's side) decide for us. It was not very nice of me to use Kong's mom in this way but since Kong was being such a turd I said, "Okay Puj, give us a sign.  If we should get a dog then tonight, while poppy is sleeping, you should bop him in the nose to show he's being mean and that we should get a dog."

Of course, the next day Kong joyfully confirmed that Puj indeed did not bop him in the nose.  Ayden's response, "Mommy, Puj probably didn't like that we asked her to hit her own son which is why she didn't do it."  Then Ayden folded her hands together in the prayer position, looked up to heaven, and said, "Puj, if it is the right thing for us to get a dog, please give us a sign."

Skyba - 12 year old Golden Lab

This is where Skyba comes in.  Just a few days after Ayden's prayer we ran into Skyba.  Literally.  After a late night workout, having not defrosted my windshield, I pulled out  from a red light to screams of, "DOG! DOG! MOMMY STOP!  A DOG!"  I slammed on the break but the car kept sliding.  I heard a thump, then silence.  The car continued sliding then anther thump.  I saw the dog plop out the back limping away.  It was complete chaos in the car.  I was screaming, "Oh my God!" over and over again while Kong was yelling, "STOP, YOU HIT THE DOG, WE HAVE TO STOP!"

Kong brought the dog into the truck.  The dog was shaking and cold but appeared to be fine. We brought the dog home and called animal control.  With the information we were given we thought it was best to keep him until morning then call the animal hospital listed on his tag.  Kong brought a moving blanket in from the garage and covered up the dog.  Animal control told us to listen to the dogs breathing through the night.  If he was injured his breathing would give us a sign.

In the middle of the night the dog's breathing became labored.  Worried, Kong slept on the sofa next to him. If the evening was not already delightful enough, the poor dog threw up.  In the vomit Kong found a receipt and some paper.  Poor thing.  He was so hungry that he inadvertently ate garbage.  Kong took the morning off to clean up and we took the dog to the Animal Hospital.  Although it was a lot of work, Kong seemed to have a real bond with the dog.  The dog followed Kong around everywhere to which Kong responded, "Dog, I am not your master" I presume a defense mechanism to keep emotional distance from the dog.

I feel like there are no coincidences.  Things happen for a reason. Kong's mom sent Skyba to us as a sign.  She wanted Kong to know that having a dog would be wonderful for our girls but more importantly, it would be wonderful for him.  There is room in his heart to love another being and despite the work, there are great benefits.  Thank you Puj.  Hopefully we are one step closer to getting a dog.

There Once Was a Man from Nantucket...

Kong was suppose to go to work after we voted on 11/6/12 but ditched and hung out with me.  We love being together but we are super unproductive when we are.  We mess around all day getting nothing accomplished.

Anyone who knows Kong and I know that we are probably the least romantic couple on earth.  We don't buy each other birthday gifts (or any holiday gifts), we celebrate our anniversary with our kids doing family things, we rarely ever go on dates, but we spend all of our spare time together.  It is in these times when we are alone that remind me that only we could have been with each other.  Does that make any sense?  Example...

The other night after a late work out we had energy to burn.  We were laying in bed at around midnight talking and I turned over and said to him, "Babe, you're turning 40 in a few weeks.  Before we know it we will be dead.  We should cherish every moment we have together and be conscious about how we love the girls."  Then I broke out in song singing Cherish the love by Cool and the Gang.  In the chorus I made sure not to leave out the seagull part.  Kong busted out laughing and said there is no such sound made in the song.

We decided that we needed to find the answer so at 1am in the morning we googled Cherish the Love.  Do you have any idea how hard it is to find the original version of this song?  It's not out there and if it is, please send it to us.  Anyway, after much time surfing Youtube we found a kareokee version which we hoped would have that small sound bite.  We kareokeed the entire song and to our disappointment the bird part was not a part of this version.

After much laughing at how bad our karaoking was we started talking about romance and why we aren't more romantic.  I asked Kong if he would sing to me or write me a poem.  Again, after much laughter at the thought he straightened himself out (or as much as he could since we were laying in bed) and began to compose a poem.  Then he started...There once was a girl name Hortense.  You don't want to hear the rest because it had to do with large breasts.   Although entertaining, I doubted its an originality so I asked him to be serious hence he started again.  There once was a man from Nantucket.  Needless to say, the second poem was no more romantic than the first nor was it any cleaner.

When we finally calmed down from all the laughing I realized two things.  One, poems that start with there once was a man from Nantucket never end well, and two, my husband may not sing to me, write poems, dance with me, or buy me jewelry but he does make me laugh.  Gut busting laughing to be exact but I wouldn't want it any other way.  I guarantee that we are probably not that funny, charming or witty but to each other we are the bomb!  I'm not sure if anyone else would have appreciated who we truly are.

My feeling is, when your children have to talk with you in the morning about being woken up because of loud, uncontrollable laughter in the middle of the night, I think it's a good sign that all is well.  I enjoy my husband as much now if not more than I did when we first met at 20 years of age and I hope for many more years of no romance but uncontrollable laughter.

Love you babe.  Happy almost 40th birthday.

Major Fail!

Ayden - Working on a school project - 11/29/2012

When I took the picture above I had no idea that just a few hours later the most horrific moment of my parenting career would occur.  If an award for crappiest parent alive existed I would be the undisputed champion.  Yes, I kid you not.  Let me tell you why.

Ayden was working on a painting for a book project.  She spent hours working on this project.  You see all the green on the canvas?  Those are blades of grass each meticulously drawn then carefully painted in with the smallest brush in the house.  Behind each blade of grass is blue sky.  I wondered what she was going to do with the white space but told myself, "Whatever she does or does not do with it is up to her.  Give her the creative freedom to do what she wants."  Proud of myself for having not said anything I left to Kuk Sool with Taylor.

Upon my return it was late.  Ayden should have been asleep but she came running down to show me her finish work.  The first thing I noticed was that she wrote the title of the book in the white space in beautiful cursive but it was illegible because she drew this thick black line under it and made some weird design around it.  Without thinking I asked her why she drew the line and proceeded to tell her my thoughts around it.  When she realized she had disappointed me she started to make up excuses about it and then the conversation went from bad to worse.  I said crappy things like, "If you are going to work so hard on something you should make it the best work you can do", "You need to think through your projects before you execute" and my favorite, "More is not better".  I also roped my poor husband in and yelled at him for not doing his job as a parent by not overseeing her work (which included a poorly written report about her community service work).

Then as nicely as he could, and in his broken Hmong as to protect my child's feelings, he proceed to tell me the following.

• She was so proud of her work that she couldn't sleep.
• Every time she heard a car door shut she thought it might be you and would spring out of bed.
• She was afraid she would fall asleep before you got home so she asked me to hide her painting so that you wouldn't see it.  She wanted to surprise you in the morning and in person.
• She was so excited about her painting that while in bed all she could do was wonder what you would think of it and if you would be proud of her.

As I listened and watched tears stream down my child's face I wanted to die. I had completely dismissed the fact that she spent over 3 hours on this painting, how beautiful the rest of her painting was, her use of colors (she mixed the colors herself to achieve the balance she was looking for), but most importantly I dismissed how much she values me and my opinion.

There was nothing I could do to take back what was said or repair her heart.  I asked her how my comments made her feel.  Then I validated her feelings, assured her that her painting was not ugly, that she is a good person, that I appreciate the hard work she puts into her homework and that I was wrong for the things I said.  I did my best to put the pieces back together but I know that that effort fell short.

She went to bed without tears but I know that she will never forget this incident.  Every time she has self doubt or thinks negatively about herself I will always wonder if this was the pivotal moment that she learned she is not good enough.  I guess I'll never know. 

I do have to also publicly apologize to my husband.  Although he has very little experience with overseeing the girls homework, he did the right thing.  He allowed her to do her work and accepted the outcome.  He did not judge, try to influence or correct her.  He let  her own her work. Thank you daddy.