A Part of the Family by Sharon O'Donnell

Our beautiful little red long-haired dachshund had back surgery on Friday of this week. Dachshunds are prone to back problems because of their long backs and short legs, but our Fenway is only 7 years old -- a bit young it would seem for such problems to happen. Even in dog years, he is only 49 -- my age exactly -- but come to think of it, I did have back surgery myself 3 years ago.

But with dachshunds, back problems can be very serious, and believe it or not, 6 or 7 is the average age of these problems occurring. I had a dachshund when I was growing up, and he lived until he was 16 with never a back problem or other health problem at all. Despite Fenway having doggie steps onto two of our couches and up to our bed, he still developed the problem.

He first started having symptoms of back problems this past August when he suddenly didn't want to walk. My husband had done research on the web, and he knew that when back problems develop, it is important to get treatment immediately. We took Fenway to a local university vet school clinic where they examined Fen and took x-rays. They could tell that Fenway had some mineralization along the discs of his spine, but they couldn't tell if a disc was actually herniated; an MRI would be able to show it, BUT they said that spinal surgery was so tricky that they would not recommend such surgery if the dog was still able to walk -- even if an MRI showed a herniated disc, they still would recommend conservative therapy - where basically the dog is carried up and down steps and not allowed to jump, etc. For the most part, we did that for the past 4 months. In the rain or the cold, we still carried Fenway down the stairs to his gated-in area off our deck and would then wait for him to do his business and carry him back up again. When we first got Fenway, we had steps built for him that were small without much rise in height between each of them so that there would be less strain on his back. However, perhaps that any kind of steps would have been too much strain.

The conservative therapy seemed to be working. Fenway gradually got back to his old self, although he was really spoiled, having grown used to us carrying him up and down the steps. Then four days ago, I noticed he was hesitating when having to get up to walk. We called and made another appointment for the university vet clinic for the next day. This time my husband insisted on Fenway having an MRI even though it was expensive; and if the MRI showed it was a herniated disc, we wanted to seriously consider surgery. Our college son came home and went with us to take Fen to his appointment. They kept Fen for the day to do the MRI. That afternoon, the results were back, and yes -- it was a herniated disc. They said surgery might help - but it was still risky as any spinal surgery is. The also said that if the disc had been herniated for a while, it would be difficult or impossible to remove. They also said they could decompress the herniated disc as well as the other discs in his back so that there would be more room around them in the spinal canal. Or we could put Fen on pain meds and more conservative therapy. We opted for the surgery. It was scheduled for the next day, but we took Fen home with us for the night.

That night it was more than obvious Fen was in pain. He had trouble moving and reluctant to walk. His breathing was more labored, as if it hurt to breathe. The next morning, his breathing was worse, almost like he was groaning or snoring every time he took a breath. He was in pain, and it was incredibly painful for us to watch. My husband had to take Fenway in for his pre-surgery prep at 7:30 that morning. Our 11-year-old son broke down in tears as he listened to Fenway's breathing, such an obvious sign that Fenway was hurting. Our whole family was a wreck. Our middle son, a senior in high school, had to get to class, but I know it was hard for him to leave Fenway. I saw later he'd texted, "Good luck in surgery, buddy."

Fenway is like part of our family. Forget the simile. Fenway IS a part of our family. He is very loyal and cuddly and playful and can make us forget our worries and concerns in no time. Just being around him makes us better people. Fen has a special relationship with everyone in the house, but he has a super special strong bond with my husband, Kevin. When Kevin is out of the house, Fenway guards Kevin's belongings all day, growling at anyone who comes near. It's actually kind of strange and overboard but that's Fenway. Most of the time, Fenway is a very laid-back dog who loves to relax, but when his is ready to play, he plays hard.

Yesterday afternoon did not bring the news we'd prayed to hear. The disc had been herniated for a while, making it impossible for doctors to actually remove the disc; however, they did decompress the disc and the other discs so there would be more room for in the spinal column and thus would alleviate the pain. But still -- it wasn't the best case scenario. Time will tell what will happen. Using pain meds off and on will also help him if needed. It hurts to think he won't be able to roughhouse with my sons the way he has for the past 7 years -- we'll miss that so much, and I wish I'd taken some videos of it. I think I took one last year, but it was brief, and I'm not even sure where it is in our stack of small video tapes. Ironically, in the beginning of November, we bought a brand new video camera that records without tape -- primarily to record Fenway. But we've been so busy that we didn't get around to taking one.

Even though he won't be quite his 'old' self, we know we are blessed to be able to bring Fenway home tomorrow. I went and visited him this morning, and he was very wobbly but able to walk and seemed very ready to come home with us. Hated to have to leave him there. His back is bare, now, his beautiful red hair shaved with staples along his spine. It's odd to see him like that. Kind of funny to look at though, and that is the approach we will take when my 11-year-old sees him. Kind of a revers Mohawk.

We can't wait to bring Fenway home in the morning. Home. Back where he belongs. With us. Part of the family.

The Calm Before the Storm - By Cara Potapshyn Meyers

As I am writing this, I am prepared for and awaiting Hurricane Irene to pass by this area of the East Coast. Although several of my friends who live near to the shoreline have already had to evacuate, I am thankful that I am able to stay in my own home. After last year's tornado, one dinky hurricane is not scaring me away.

Most important to me, at this moment, is that for the first time in, I don't know how many years, I am alone. Completely, utterly, you can hear a pin drop, alone. I am feeling devinely bliss.

My husband took my son to California to visit with my Brother-in-Law and his family. I felt that this was a perfect time to get our carpets professionally cleaned in our home. The dogs went to the kennel ("Doggie Camp," as my son calls it). Although I was left to shlep numerous items downstairs and orchestrate this whole undertaking, once the cleaners left, I took a nice hot shower and then a peaceful, completely uninterrupted nap. Sublime does not even begin to describe how I felt.

Family and dogs were all supposed to return home on Saturday. With the forecast of Hurricane Irene passing through our area over the weekend, my husband made the decision to fly back home with my son on Monday. Dogs will be coming home then too. Here I thought I would have two days to relax and unwind. Now it has turned into four! I am completely in Heaven! Even if we lose electricity, I will luxuriate in reading novels barely started or take well deserved naps. As a well designed credit card commercial tags, what I have now is priceless!

From this blessed experience, I must admit that as a Later Mom, I feel we all need significant downtime. This time alone has been truly an unexpected blessing because every one of my typical days is filled with enormous amounts of stress. Putting myself aside, though, shouldn't every Mom get alone time? Real alone time. Not catch up on e-mail time. Not do some extra laundry time. Real, honest-to-goodness do something relaxing time! 

I often cringe when magazines or professional organizers suggest to Moms that they "schedule" downtime for themselves. If I have to schedule it, then how can it truly be considered "downtime?" My personal example is that I have a standing manicure appointment at the same time, every two weeks. Manicures used to be luxurious for me. They bordered on indulgent. Now they have been relegated to a "task" that needs to be fulfilled whether I'm in the mood for a manicure or not. It has lost it's specialness.

Some say, "You should schedule a walk into your day," or "Go to a yoga class each week." Both would make me feel good, but eventually they will also become "commitments" that I will eventually resent. "Scheduling" in true relaxation time just doesn't do it for me. I need unexpected or minimally planned "me" time. I anticipated having two "alone" days this week. I now have four! What an amazing, precious gift!

Our recent Guest Blogger, Holly Sklar, made the same point. She described "Date Night" with her husband as almost another task on the "To Do" list. She stated that the thrill and excitement of it, especially after a full, busy week, felt like another chore. Even as couples, relaxation time together is no longer what it used to be. As she pointed out, as a Later Mom, parenting, having a full or part time job, and running a home, drain the life out of you. And as she admitted, she almost resents her children for it, even though she loves them passionately.

So where does this leave us? If we schedule in some pampering or relaxation time, we risk having it turn into a chore. If we don't schedule it in, we get drained, cranky, and worn down. There needs to be a happy medium.

I found, especially through this unexpected gift of alone time, that by asking for it may be the best solution. When you are feeling the need to escape, ask your mate to watch the kids while you hit the gym. If you are run down and need a massage, hire a babysitter or ask a friend to watch your kids. If the sight of books and toys strewn across the room make you want to scream and cry at the same time, ask to get a manicure while the family eats dinner. And while you are asking, request that the dishes and pans get cleaned as well so as not to "smudge" your pretty fingers. All of these unexpected gifts of time will be so much more meaningful and needed at the times when you need them most! They will feel like gifts instead of chores! You will be nurturing your own body, mind and soul.

Lastly, though, reciprocate. A Mom friend of mine who has a son the same age, had my son over for a six hour playdate! I was at a stress point where I needed alone time very desperately. In turn, I took her son for a six hour playdate this past weekend. I could tell that she was equally grateful to have gotten a large chunk of time for herself as well. 

It all boils down to what we need, when we need it, and to find a way to get that need fulfilled. Our lives are over planned as it is. So try to get your own unexpected time in. You might be surprised at how easy and effective it can be. If you are even luckier, a roadblock, like my Hurricane, will come along, allowing you to indulge in your alone time just a little bit longer! I'm certainly enjoying mine!

Sundays, Sundays - By Cara Potapshyn Meyers

Mothers think about their children (no matter how old) day & night. Mothers love their children in a way they'll never understand. Mothers will be there for their children when no one else will. Mothers would take a bullet, jump in front of a train or ask God to take them instead of their child. If you have children you love as much as I love mine, post this as your status.

I hate Sundays. I actually loathe Sundays. I even begin to hate Sunday on Saturday. Why would anyone hate a nice, lazy, weekend day?? Because my husband has designated Saturdays as his day to spend with my son and therefore I get to spend all day on Sunday with my son. 

Now, on the surface, that appears fair and equitable. But in reality, it is far from it. My husband doesn’t sleep at home on Friday nights. He comes by to pick up my son around 8:30 - 9:00 am and brings him home roughly 12 hours later. On the contrary, my husband leaves for the gym at 7 am on Sundays when my son just awakens, and lately has gotten home close to or after 11 pm. And many times, my son waits until my husband comes home to tell him something exciting or ask him a question. Unless it is an emergency, my husband has made it clear that he is unavailable to speak or text with during the day. And the few times I have tried, I have gotten a response hours later.

The quip above had been floating around Facebook on Sunday. Although I was having one of the worst days with my son, I still felt, deep down inside that this still applied. But my comment underneath was, “VERY debatable.” I was having a really rough day with my son. And with no help and also 2 dogs to care for, it made for an even more challenging day.

The day started with a urine soaked bamboo bath mat and equally soaked bathroom floor. Need I say more? My son was distracted by something and wasn’t watching where he was “aiming.” My husband had left already and I was left to roll up and dispose of the mat and scrub down the entire bathroom floor. All at 7 am, sans even coffee. I can assure you that my husband has never had to begin “his” day with my son this way. And there have been other days when I have woken up to changing my son’s urine soaked bedding and have had to strip his bed at 7 am and do loads of laundry and re-make his bed. My therapists all claim that this is all a result of the psychological dynamics going on within our household. Yet I am always the one left to do the “dirty work,” as most mothers are.

The day only became worse. My son had a bad cold, so I felt that he needed a day of relaxation. This “relaxation” day tumbled into a day of tantrums and meltdowns...both his and mine. He “lost” a Pokemon/Bakugan/Yu Gi Oh card. There were cards strewn all over his bed, his desk and the floor. I tried to remain calm and got some gallon size Baggies and black markers. We identified each bag for each appropriate set of cards and sorted the cards into their respective bags. This alone took almost an hour and a half. And did we find my son’s “lost” card? Of course we did! In his pants pocket as I was sorting laundry to do!

Then there were meltdowns. My son waits until he is starving before he tells me he is hungry and “can’t wait” for me to make his meal (a carry over from when he was a baby. There were never any whimpers of uncomfortableness when he needed a bottle. He needed it yesterday and warmed yesterday! And his ear-piercing screams let you know it!). Then he didn’t like what the meal looked like, thus tasted like. So there were more meltdowns (mine) and tantrums (his). I ended up telling him that if he could find food to eat in the house (I had to go food shopping badly), he could eat. If he didn’t want the meal I made him and he couldn’t find anything to eat, he’d have to go hungry. A bunch of hunger-induced nasty insults were hurled my way (I say “hunger-induced” because my son has never spoken to me that way before. And after this past Sunday, I can promise you, he never will again.)

The dogs were taking their daily naps and he pounced on them. They, in turn, snarled at him (I would too if someone woke me up from a sound sleep!). His feelings got hurt terribly, so he spent a good half hour crying on the living room couch.

And the day gradually ended with a comment from my son that, at this point, not only made me laugh at the absurdity of it, but also gave me time for myself! My son said, “Mommy, I think you need to go to bed earlier because you’ve been cranky lately.” So I gladly responded, “Well, then I better get ready to go to bed around 10 o’clock so that I get a really good night of sleep and not wake up cranky!” To my surprise, my son didn’t balk when I said that I couldn’t hold his hand as he fell asleep. I meditated myself to sleep in my own bed. And ultimately, really did get a good night of sleep! And I made sure that I was bright and chipper in the morning so that my son would think that my going to bed early...his idea...was working!

It is a good thing that we have plans for the next four Sundays so that we can at least get out of the house! But at least you now have a glimpse of how horrible Sundays can be for me and why I hate them so much.

How much longer until my son graduates from high school??

The Saddest Day - by Cara

I made probably the most difficult decision of my entire life recently. To end my marriage. Making this decision was so difficult that the only situation I can compare it to would be having a loved one in the hospital and having to be the one to make the decision to have them taken off life support. This decision was immensely heart wrenching, but it had to be done.

My husband is looking for the least expensive way to end our marriage and provide support. Because I have to look out for the needs of both my son as well as myself, I couldn’t afford to go the least expensive route. I chose to go through the much more grueling, difficult way. But it had to be done for the sake of my son and myself.

I also had to do it because my husband and I don’t have any semblance of life together anymore. And I grieve and hurt over this just about every single day. I have tried so hard to keep our family intact. My husband, however, keeps pulling farther and farther away. He has absolutely no interest in rectifying our marriage or family.

My own health has deteriorated significantly as well. I’ve lost 60 pounds due to stress induced irritable bowel syndrome. I can hardly eat liquids at this point and keep them in my digestive tract. My doctors have had to increase my anti-anxiety meds to a point where I think my brain is going to implode. I am weak, often dehydrated, often dizzy, and almost always nauseous. My body cannot afford to go on like this. Especially crying myself to sleep every night. I had to “pull the plug.” For the sake of my own health.

My biggest fear, besides my health, is my son. He will be devastated. And I am sure that this will impact his schooling. Since my husband is hardly around anyway, I constantly reassure my son that I will always be here for him. And I will never leave him, no matter what. He will forever be my number one priority. As it is now, we have established our own comfortable routine together. At least that will remain consistent for him.

The most difficult part of all will be telling our son that Mommy and Daddy will no longer be living together. I’ve been reading up on how to tell a young child that his parents will be divorcing. The most important emphasis from everything I’ve read is that both parents need to remain calm and unemotional when discussing a divorce with a child. I absolutely don’t think I can do it. I get teary-eyed just thinking of telling our son. But I want to hear what my husband says to our son, so I have to be present. I’m just going to have to take a few xanaxes before we sit down with him and try to hold back the tears. I honestly don’t know how I am going to get through it.

My husband and I had a child because we wanted to share the love we had for each other exponentially towards our child. The love for our child hasn’t changed, but I still continue to wonder where the love my husband and I had for each other went. And I still don’t understand how you can know a person intimately for 20 years and be married for 15 years, and have that love dissipate practically overnight. I guess I never will know the answer.

All I ever wanted was a happy little family who enjoyed spending time with one another and enjoying life’s experiences together. From last week’s blog, you could tell that I experienced my son’s first camping trip second hand, through texts and photos sent from my husband. And when my son and I leave for the Bahamas tomorrow, my husband will have to live our cruise experience, along with a stop at Disney on the way back, through scattered phone calls and shared photos. It is so utterly sad.

When my husband received the divorce letter, he was visibly shaken and shocked. Since then, however, he has failed to discuss it. All he said about the letter was, “I don’t know what to say.” I thought to myself, “For an intelligent man, you don’t seem to know much about anything concerning our relationship.” He is acting more and more like a bachelor, is giving up more and more time that he could be spending with his son, instead choosing to spend it with his friends or doing a physical activity. It is beyond sad. For my birthday, he gave me a gift, “from my son,” which was completely self-serving and did not take my son nor I into consideration at all. He had a bike race to go to this past Saturday with a barbecue to go to afterwards. He gave me tickets to go to see the play, The Lion King, at a theater in New York City. He specifically chose the day of his bike race as the date for the tickets, so that my son and I would be occupied. Firstly, my son hates the Lion King movie. I have offered to watch it with him over the years, and as soon as it starts, my son starts screaming, “Turn it off! Turn it off!” Why would I take my son to a play when he won’t even watch the movie it is based on!! Secondly, knowing my son would not like the play; he would be asking to leave every 15 minutes. And with his ADD, he would not be able to sit for that length of time anyway. It would be a horrible, aggravating, miserable experience for both of us. So I gave the tickets away. And my son and I spent a quiet, relaxing, productive day at home. I think we both much preferred that.

My husband’s attorney has up to 60 days to respond to my letter, so we shall see how long he puts off responding to it. In the meantime, I am learning a crash course in how to be a single parent, taking care of a high maintenance child and two high maintenance dogs. I’m not doing the greatest job, so far. But as they say, with practice makes perfect, which I don’t expect to aspire to! I think “staying afloat” is a much more reasonable goal for right now! Time will only tell...

If I Wanted to be a Single Mom... - by Cara

I’m having a hard time thinking of how I would complete that sentence. I have been finding myself playing the role of “married, single Mom” now more and more.

I adore my son...I would give up my life for him. I truly put my own needs aside to meet his. But when my husband and I discussed having a child, we knew that there might be some complications both during pregnancy and afterwards. I have a chronic pain condition that rears it’s ugly head every so often. I felt confident that I would have a partner who would be able to chip in when I wasn’t feeling my best. And through the years I accumulated more medical conditions. But still, I felt that I had someone to help “carry the load,” especially with the addition of two dogs.

But now I feel completely drained. It could be my hypothyroidism, but I don’t think it is. I am drained of being the resource for a very needy child. My son needs his “emotional tank” filled to the brim every day. I am drained of his continuous high energy, and schlepping him from place to place to burn off that energy.

I am drained of two wonderful dogs that are a real part of our family. But their needs are rising as they are getting on in age. And two fish that are relatively maintenance free, but do need to be fed and have their tanks cleaned regularly.

I no longer have that partner who made a promise to me that he would be there for me if raising a child were too much for me to handle on certain days. I feel cheated. And at the same time I admire all of the amazing single Moms who willingly chose to become single Moms. My best friend is a single Mom. She always sounds frazzled. She also schleps her son from one activity to another. And she also has an aging dog. I continually wonder how she does it. She DOES have her parents to chip in when she needs a break. And a slew of close friends who are more than willing to watch her son when she needs time for herself. I have none of that. Which makes me even more resentful that my husband is bailing out of his promise to me.

So I have to ask myself: If I wanted to voluntarily be a Single Mom, under my same medical circumstances and lack of resources to help out when I need a break, would I still want to be a one? I honestly don’t know. I can’t imagine life without my son. But I feel as if I am getting older exponentially at the same time.

My son is getting more mature and is taking on more responsibility. In a few years, he won’t want to even acknowledge that I even exist! And I desperately want to see him mature into an adult. But right now he is so sensitive that he needs to know my every move, my every step. I guess instead of wondering, “what if,” I should slow down and try to capture each small moment with him.

He lost his third baby tooth a few days ago. And since my husband was on a business trip, I thought that the excitement of losing his tooth (at the Bronx Zoo of all places!) would be diminished without his father here. It wasn’t. At all. He squealed with excitement at what the Tooth Fairy brought him. His Tooth Fairy is named Nute and is a Surfer Dude. We sent an e-mail to Nute, apprising him of the situation! And that whole night was filled with excitement, even as drained as I was from the day!

I guess I can now assuredly place an ending onto my opening sentence. If I wanted to be a Single Mom, I would definitely want to be one! Gladly! Otherwise, I would go through life with regrets. And that’s the last thing I want. And this childhood phase is passing so quickly! I better hold on with two hands, because I am going to be going on the ride of my life! Together, with my beautiful son! Being the best Single Mom I can be!