I woke up this morning and thought of Truman and how my kitchen was empty. That I didn't have to rush to get up before he did one more pee or little hill of poop on my floor. That I don't have to constantly remove him from chewing on my computer cord as I write, that I didn't have to immediately light three candles to cover his stale, puppy smell. You'd think all this would make me immeasurably happy but instead my chest feels heavy, like some big hard boulder is laying on it, smashing me.
Ethan is relaxed for the first time in two weeks sitting in his high chair in the kitchen because Truman is not here. He is eating his "frozens", ie frozen blueberries, intermittently asking me to sing him "Away in the Manger".
Joey has gone shooting but before he left I made him scrambled eggs, an extra white and preservative filled bagel with whipped cream cheese, and coffee. He was happy when he left.
Maybe if Truman were here I wouldn't have done that, I would still have been trying to clean up all his little ponds of pee.
I am a wife first, a mother second. With Truman I was a puppy owner first, a mother second, and a wife if I had enough energy, which I never did. My energy stopped about half-way into a story with Ethan, or in the middle of changing his diaper. Truman got all of me, Ethan got half, and Joey nothing but my weariness, my frustration, my attitude.
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We went out last night and it was so fun. I had my first martini. Well I actually tried two but the first one I tried tasted like medicine and dirt. I can remember everything from what I talked to Sarah about to the taste of the greasy, crunchy, yum yum yummy onion rings to the plump waitress asking for my ID, but when we got up to leave I could not feel my legs and I felt very warm. Joey had to boost my bootie up into Ken's new truck because of the leg issues but by the time we got back to the house I could feel my legs again.
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Ethan had his two year birthday last night too. We had all the family over and a couple of friends.
It was really wonderful. Crowded, but wonderful. And when I brought the cake with two little candles dancing in the air and started to sing "Happy Birthday" Ethan stopped playing with his new tractor and got very attentive. He looked at me with that cake and then around at all his family singing to him like a huge, horrible choir and then he started to smile. He knew the cake and the singing were for him, and you could see he was loving it. When we finished the song I told him, "Blow out the candles!" and he did. Then he started jumping up and down in the most ungraceful way ever, more like he was stomping grapes, and clapping. And of course we didn't have the camera or the video camera out.
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It was an emotion filled day yesterday. If feelings were a rainbow, I went through all of the colors, and I felt more alive than I usually do.
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