Don't Judge a Box of Hot Chocolate . . .

. . . by the picture on its cover. And don't give it to your parents because your dad likes hot chocolate and you don't drink it anymore--even though you used to buy the biggest Swiss Miss box available and in college especially, it was almost a ritual to have 1 or maybe 2 mugs of hot chocolate late in the evening (or early in the morning) while lounging with friends, or reading a book, or working on a term paper. You still have the dark blue mug you always used whenever you visited your friend Lindsey at her little studio apartment (this was before you were roommates). It's the one she wrote your name on in swirly letters with a metallic gold pen.

Don't smile bemusedly and wonder why this same friend would give you a box of hot chocolate when she knows you have made the painful (but much lower calorie) switch to herbal tea. Don't count on the fact that she thinks you might drink it because it is "diet" hot chocolate. Oh no. Not this friend.

When you do give the box with the picture of a mug of hot chocolate on it to your parents, don't be surprised when you talk to them a few days later and your mom tells you to hold on, your dad wants to tell you something. He'll come on the phone and thank you for the hot chocolate, but tell you that "it doesn't fit."

Huh? You will be confused. He'll say Mom will explain. She'll come back on the phone and tell you how Dad got a hankering to try that fancy diet hot chocolate you were so nice to give him. She'll say how they boiled some water and got a mug from the cupboard. She'll tell you how she thought it odd when she opened the box and saw the gold tissue. "Strange how they packaged this diet hot chocolate."

She'll start laughing when she tells you she unwrapped the "hot chocolate" and out came a rolled-up t-shirt--and not just any t-shirt, mind you, but a hippy-dippy, sunshine-emblazoned, good times slogan-plastered, flowery, peace-lovin' shirt.

Lindsey got you again.

Thanks, Man.

Choosing Joy

A baby girl named Ava will be born to my cousin Ryan and his wife Onica in about a month. My mom and I went to her (and her mommy and daddy's) shower on Friday.

The next day, my mom and I toured the assisted care facility that my grandparents will be moving into at the end of the month.

These two events have brought up many thoughts and feelings over the past couple of days: how family means so much, how I don't see mine as much as I would like and why that is, how families have secrets (parents from children, children from parents, siblings from siblings), and what could happen if everyone laid bare their hearts at the same time.

I have been thinking about the bittersweet juxtaposition of life--while two lives are winding down, another life is just beginning and how that brings joy and sadness at the same time. And for me, how I accept that sadness as a necessary part of the cycle of life, with its disappointments and its unfairness and its grief. What I know in my brain but my heart is struggling to comprehend is that life is just that--a constant flux of hurt and happiness, turmoil and calm. It is beginnings and endings, over and over again. It is nothing static. It is everything always in a state of motion, a state of change.

The question then, for me, is how do I deal with that constant flux? How do I keep from being overwhelmed by life's hard corners?

What I have decided is that I must choose joy. I must take happy memories of the people I love and tuck them carefully away in my heart so that when it is time for life's sadness, I can lean on those past joys and they will bring me strength. And so, some joy from the time I spent with my family . . .

Sisters embarking on new paths in life--one is to be a mother and the other a bride.
Two of my very photogenic cousins, Bri and Crystal at the baby shower. Bri helped me more than she knew with her easy demeanor and her cheerful remarks on the shower and everyone there. My mom and me. I think we continue to be surprised at how deep our strength really runs.

One of the last joys my grandma has left to her--taking the aptly-named Kitty for a walk. Mom and Grandma sharing a footstool and a a quiet moment.

Proof that spring has finally sprung.

Flynn & The Cone of Shame

Poor Flynn. We took him to get his anal glands expressed last week (funny how I never knew much about dogs and their anal glands even though I grew up with 2 dogs of my own), and I guess it caused some lasting irritation because he has been doing his best to lick the area to death ever since. I didn't pay much attention to the licking at first, but before Michael left for work Wednesday morning, he woke me up to tell me that Flynn had been licking himself about every 20 minutes for the past few days and that there was now a nice bald spot under his tail right at the base.

I called the vet, expecting they would want us to bring him right in, but the cheery girl on the other end of the line simply asked if we had an "E-collar." At first I thought she was talking about some kind of shock collar, but she explained that it was the cone dogs wear around their necks that keeps them from biting or licking wounds. She said that as long as the bald spot wasn't open, we didn't need to bring Flynn in. It looked red, but wasn't bleeding, so I told her I'd come in for a cone.

After work that night, I went to Flynn's veterinary office and watched as one of the staff members assembled an absolutely huge cone made of clear, flexible plastic. She threaded a gauze strip around the outer edges of the small end of the cone and suggested we loop the gauze under his front legs and tie it up on his back near his neck so he wouldn't be able to get the cone off by pawing at it. I had a mental image of Flynn struggling mightily against the application of this device, and crossed my fingers that we would be successful in getting it on him. I knew that without the cone, Flynn would most certainly lick himself raw--and then we risked the sore getting infected. Not good.

Imagine our surprise, however, when Flynn stood quietly while Michael fitted the cone over his head and secured it under his legs and tied it near the back of his neck. We both thought it looked much too big and wondered how Flynn would be able to eat and drink with his plastic hood in the way. Fortunately, he does a pretty good job. I've ended up just putting his food on a towel for him to eat from, as the cone often knocks his bowl right over. The water dish is heavier and sturdier and so far there have been no problems with it and the cone.

When I first saw Flynn wearing the cone, I immediately thought of the movie "Amelie" (which I LOVE) and of the portrait Amelie has in her apartment of a small dog wearing a white cone around his neck. Then I thought of the movie "Up" in which Dug has to wear the "cone of shame" as it is termed by the pack of dogs. I found a clip on YouTube of Dug saying, "I do not like the cone of shame," with downcast eyes. Flynn doesn't seem quite as bummed out about it as Dug, however, and bumps around our house (and our legs) as if there is nothing there at all.

We take the cone off when we're around and can watch to make sure he doesn't lick, and when it's time for it to go back on, Flynn submits without protest. What a good, good boy he is, and I hope he will only have to wear his cone for a few more days.

A Weekend With Candles, Friends and Mom

Last Friday my mom and I co-hosted a PartyLite event at my house. I am always a bit wary of hosting parties like these for several reasons. One big worry I have is actually finding "enough" people to attend so that I don't feel embarrassed about wasting the consultant's time. Another worry is people feeling obligated to buy something (since I usually feel like that when I go to parties where ordering is the name of the game). Last but not least, I think about the time it takes to prepare for something like that, by which I mean make my house (the downstairs at least) look presentable and figure out what kind of snacks to serve.

All of these things flashed through my mind when my mom asked me if I wanted to co-host a PartyLite party and asked if we could have it at my house since she thinks her house is too little. But it was the first time I could remember my mom excited about being the hostess for any type of "special order" party and I could not refuse. And anyway, I figured if we did it together, there would be two of us making preparations and it wouldn't seem so stressful.

My mom and I both have Fridays off now, so it didn't take long for us to plan a Friday in March in which she would come over early in the day to help prepare for the festivities, then stay the night in our oft-vacant guest room and go home the following day.

Although we live fairly close to each other (it's only about a 45-60 minute drive, depending on traffic), we don't get to spend as much time together as we would like. Michael is allergic to my parents' dog, so our visits there can't last longer than 5 or 6 hours, and they can't bring Sadie to our house right now since she doesn't get along with other dogs and we have Flynn. So needless to say, I was really looking forward to spending some quality time with my mom.

I drove over to Vancouver Friday morning to pick her up since my dad had to work that afternoon and would need their car. We stopped at Winco to pick up a few groceries for the evening and then decided to head for downtown Portland so I could make my 1:30pm acupuncture appointment without going all the way home to Aloha first. We found a cute little bistro in southeast Portland and stopped there for lunch before my appointment. The garden veggie soup was pretty good (if a bit pricey) and Mom and I both got a kick out of the look on the counter girl's face when I asked if they had any wheat-free bread. Too funny.

After acupuncture at the very beautiful NCNM student clinic, we headed home to get ready for the party. I had already done most of the cleaning, but Mom and Michael helped me get everything looking just right. Mom assembled a very tasty taco salad type of dip and we had both sparkling apple cider and wine as beverage offerings--beer probably would have gone better with the dip, but I don't like it and Mom thought the wine would be a suitable alternative.

Sara, the PartyLite consultant arrived about a half hour before the party was set to begin, and set up a very beautiful demo table of candles and candle holders. I was pleased to find that the catalog pictures really didn't do the products justice and there was one outdoor candle lantern in particular that caught my eye. I could just see it on our patio table during the summer, casting a comforting glow and encouraging lots of lazy evenings talking and playing cards with friends and family.

Three of my close friends were able to make it to the party, and with my mom and me that made 5 people at the show--a reasonable turnout, I decided. I had told mom earlier that we just wouldn't worry about who could make it or how much they might want to spend, and would focus instead on just having fun getting together. That took the last two of my previous worries right off the table and I was free to enjoy the evening.

Sara did a great job talking about PartyLite and I could tell that she genuinely believes in the quality of the company and its products. There was much laughter and oohing and ahhing over the candles as the evening progressed, and everyone firmly decided that the leather-scented candle (yes, I am not joking, it was advertised as being a leather-scented candle) was not something any of us wanted.

By the time the last guest had left for the evening (sometime around 11pm and way past my mom's bedtime), we were both tired, but very happy. I had ordered some candles and spent enough to buy the lantern for half price (!) and Sara told me that once the final totals were tallied, we would have quite a bit of credit for free merchandise.

Michael came home shortly after Sara left, and the three of us sat around the table talking and polishing off the rest of the dip before calling it a night. All in all, the party came off much better than I could ever have imagined, and I told my mom that I was glad it was a small group of people. I (being somewhat shy and definitely not a social butterfly) do best in small groups where I feel like I can really spend some time with each person and not get overwhelmed trying to be everywhere at once.

The next morning, Michael, Mom and I took Flynn for a walk to the dog park. It was a beautiful sunny morning and I could smell the freshness of spring in the air. We had fun taking the long way home, even stopping in at the first garage sale I have seen this year--brave souls to plan agarage sale in March.

I took Mom home before I went to work that afternoon, and we both agreed that it had been a very fun weekend and that our PartyLite party had been a success! Now it will only be a year or so before we host another one. :)