What A Weekend!

What a weekend. This weekend was jammed packed; some good…some not so good. Let’s start at the very beginning (isn’t that a song from Sound of Music?)

Friday was a great day. I had a wonderful lunch with a friend of mine, followed by a visit with my sister and dinner and a movie double-date with my parents and Cullen. We saw Gran Torino. (A short, movie review: not exactly what I was expecting. Funny – Was not expecting to laugh. Great movie. Definitely a guy-movie. Super date-movie. Overall, A-.)

Saturday morning, Cullen went to work. Before leaving for work, Cullen woke me up to tell me Brodie wasn’t feeling well. The symptoms: lethargic, real weak. If you know Brodie, that is not far from everyday characteristics. Cullen “can just tell something is wrong with him.” So, my friend Amber calls and Millie and I leave Brodie at home and meet Amber and her puppies at the Round Rock dog park. Millie got in a little brawl at the dog park and cut her eye. YEP – Millie was ambushed. I took her straight to the doggie hospital, because she literally had blood coming out of her eye. Two hours later and $46 dollars later, we arrived home with a black-eyed, banged up Boston Terrier. She is on two medicines.

Not to be out done, Brodie stays sick and we end up taking him to the doctor Sunday (along with Millie follow up eye appointment.) After another 2.5 hours at the vet, Brodie has a virus in his intestines and he was given antibiotics and Pepcid AC, for his heartburn? Gas? Bloat? All the above? Nevertheless, he moped around…when we could get him out of bed at all. On top of that, he was prescribed wet dog food, which was supposed to be easy on the belly. Cullen spoon fed him last night.

Brodie gave us a run for our money this morning though. He has been sleeping with us, because we are over protective parents. Well, my alarm goes off this morning. I rolled over to kiss Cullen good morning, and check on Brodie. I called Brodie’s name… nothing. I give him a good shake, call his name again…and nothing. I yell at Cullen to get up. I feel Brodie’s stomach to feel him breathe… nothing. FINALLY, something. He looks up at him, as if I have grown two heads. He looks at me and stares, as if he is saying, “Look, ma. Leave me alone. I am tired.” So, I sighed a heavy breath of relief and rolled over to say good morning to Millie, who slept on the floor. After a shower this morning, Brodie got out of bed on his own, and met me in the kitchen. He looked at me, sat and stared at the microwave… wanting his new wet dog food to be heated and fed to him via spoon? DREAM ON BRODIE MAN. As if I could resist his sweet face, I heated the food up…BUT I DID NOT FEED IT TO HIM. I sat it on the floor and walked away!

So, all is well with the black-eyed Millie girl and the sick, gassy, bloated Brodie man. This weekend has caused me to really re-think Motherhood.