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Relationships

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IT'S DIFFICULT GETTING ANYTHING DONE WITH ANNIE AND LULU IN MY LAP.
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Annie and Lulu are growing into fine young ladies, especially after I sent them to finishing school while I was in Italy this fall. For three weeks the girls learned the finer points of sit, stay, heel, come, inside and place.

Now the biggest challenge they face is me.

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“Are you phubbing me?” he asked with a bit of attitude. I didn’t look up right away because I had no idea what the heck he said. When I finally looked up he said, “Are you watching this?”

“No,” I said. “I’m playing Words with Friends.”

“It feels like you’re not even here.”

I felt bad, but told him I wasn’t interested in what he was watching but wanted to be in the same room with him.

“It’s a thing,” he said. “Phubbing is real, and people are getting divorced over it.” Continue Reading

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My favorite fall sweater had several loose threads when I packed it away last spring, but I wasn’t ready to consider throwing it away. A few days ago, it wasn’t even out of the storage box when I started twirling and tucking the loose threads, thinking I could magically reattach them.

Discarding things has never been easy for me. It’s not that I’m a hoarder. I’m a fixer. A serial fixer. There… I said it out loud. Moving on from people hasn’t been easy either.

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At our age, when it seems like we have worked hard and should now get to relax and enjoy the fruit of our labors, many of us find ourselves caring for aging parents, an ill sibling or life-partner, or even a grown child who is sick and unable to care for themselves. We hadn’t counted on this twist of fate. Continue Reading

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Recently I heard a young woman say dating is obsolete. “Really?” I asked, to which she replied, “No one has time for that silliness anymore.”

Fourteen years ago I left an abusive relationship with the clothes on my back and no shoes on my feet. I was done with love and my dreams of that knight in shining armor riding in to save me was history. I was too old for fairytales. Continue Reading

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This was my little man, Sam. If you look closely, you can see fur peeking out from between his toes, a sure sign he was a house puppy, which was fine with me. Being an indoor dog made it easier for me to give him hugs, rub his soft silky ears and tell him how much he was loved and adored.

Sam captured our hearts the second we saw him. James said Sam was the only dog he knew who’d read and memorized the “Puppy Handbook.”

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There aren’t many things cuter than a soft, snuggly puppy who nuzzles your neck and whispers, “Adopt me! Adopt me!” Adopting one puppy is a good thing, but two? When I asked my girlfriends why they didn’t stop me, they said, “You’ve always had dogs, so we figured you knew what you were getting into.” Yes, but never puppies! When I was younger and the same friends started having babies, I didn’t understand the degree to which their lives had changed, overnight, but now… That’s me!

I also have postpartum depression, and I didn’t even give birth!

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My granddaughter is 17-years-old and a new, high school senior. Just a few years ago she was teased and came home from school sobbing. I couldn’t help but wonder where fifth-grade little girls learned to be so mean, and if those same girls are as cruel, now that they’re nearly adults?

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I STILL haven't unpacked my photos, so I don't have one of my grandmother. This is me, a few years older than when I 'axed Mamie's floor!'
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One of my earliest memories is sitting in a pool of Wesson Oil, smacking my hands on the linoleum floor my grandmother had just waxed. When my grandmother, I called her Mamie, told me this story, she said she walked into her kitchen to see me smearing Wesson Oil around with my hands and saying, “Axing Mamie’s floors! I’m axing Mamie’s floors!”

I’ve been thinking a lot about my grandmother, wishing I could tell her how much I admired her strength and thank her for being my role model.

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