2 years ago
Latest GC // The Poet: Topacio Althaus
The boys and I have been taking the Metro Local to school. It’s a short bus ride. Thank god, because 3.0 has decided it’s the most desirable place to take a poo. Thank god again, because 3.0 is still wearing diapers (and he has my permission to do so until he’s good and ready for the big time). Anyway, after I drop them at preschool, I enjoy a long, thought-provoking walk/skip home. Along the way, I pass some of my favorite Venice and Mar Vista houses, gardens, colors and landmarks that make our neighborhood such a great place to live. Ahhhhh, I do love LA…
PS, The above shot is the storefront of the new Surfing Cowboys location. It’s coming soon!
Sofia Sanchez & Mauro Mongiello.
Just thank you...
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These are the pugs in their sunny spot. Olive, on the left, has IBS. Her bowels explode whenever her GI tract experiences the slightest bit of pressure. This usually happens at night. In the middle of the night. On our bed. It’s happened maybe ten times. Why do we let her sleep on our bed? She’s my baby girl, I love her. Besides, where else should she sleep? In a crate where she would explode just the same, and probably have to sit in her own feces until the explosion is detected by her sleeping family? I would still have to clean-up the mess; change her bedding, let her outside and soothe her sweet little soul, so I don’t really see the point in putting her in a crate.
The midnight explosions are actually happening a lot less because we are taking Olive on later walks, and we are sleeping on high alert. Any sort of pug movement alarms my husband to scurry and stumble out of bed to rush her outside. Somehow, it’s worked-out that my husband assumes pug duty, probably because I’m on high alert kid duty. I’m the one who answers to middle of the night panic attacks for lost toys, cover adjustments and dehydration emergencies.
Anyway, there are no words for the love and joy the pugs bring to our family. We’ll work through the midnight shit explosions. Anything for our girls.
I don’t make new year’s resolutions, but on this first day of 2013, I so happened to try something for the first time that just might change my life.
It was a very grumpy December at ours this year. My husband worked ridiculous hours over the holidays, our boys’ sleep has been affected by seasonal excitement, and they’ve been feeling the absence of Dad; another reason for interrupted sleep. We’ve all been exhausted, and when Mom and Dad are sleep deprived, we get very grumpy, and bicker and pick and poke at each other until it becomes emotionally exhausting. I get to the point where I just want to cry, or kick my husband in the balls as hard as possible.
Today, in typical exhausted form, my husband began to push my buttons (not that i didn’t push his at some point during the day). He started in… I could feel my blood begin to simmer. He poked again, and again, and in no time, my blood was boiling. Normally, I would poke back, but I suddenly heard a voice saying in my head, “you’re in control… you’re in control… you’re in control… you’re in control”. I said it over and over again, and before I knew it, he had stopped pushing, and I was calm. I was so proud of myself for not losing my shit!! I felt empowered and hopeful that kicking my husband in the balls just might not happen in 2013.
I’m in control. I hope I can keep it up…