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7 Stupid Things That Make My Dogs Bark

~ themunchkinnugget ~ Leave a comment

This is Heidi:

Heidi

This is Hobbes:

Hobbes

We love them so much.  We want them to bark.  We want them to alert us of predators loitering in our garage.  We want them to scare away the people who are trying to sell us something.  We want them to wake us from a deep slumber if our house is on fire.  BUT OH MY GOD WILL YOU PLEASE STOP BARKING AT THE LITTLE GIRL PLAYING DRESS-UP IN HER DRIVEWAY?!?!  Heidi?  Hobbes?  While we appreciate you and your amazing skills, I need to explain to you why sometimes, it’s really unnecessary.  Here are some really stupid things that make you bark: Continue reading →

Why It’s Totally Cool To Have A Meltdown When Your Child’s Forehead Is Hot (See what I did there?)

~ themunchkinnugget ~ 1 Comment

Every time Jack has even a low grade temperature, I go into panic mode.  As a nurse, I know that fevers are actually a good thing.  They are your body’s way of getting rid of foreigners that are trying to take over.  By increasing the body’s temperature, organisms that don’t belong are (in a nutshell) heated to death.  The nurse part of me says, “Becca?  What’s your frickin problem?  He’s fine.  Take a chill pill and go to bed.”, but the mother part of me says “No. Way.  We CANNOT rest until the tiny human is back to normal.  It is your JOB.  It is YOUR fault if his temperature increases to 104 in his sleep.”  The mother part always wins.  Any other kid and I would give them some Tylenol and check on them in the morning, but Jack?  Jack is MY kid, and the only way to get any sleep is to sleep in his room and listen to him breathing. Continue reading →

The Silver Lining of Alzheimer’s Disease

~ themunchkinnugget ~ 10 Comments
Colonel C.T. Boys, Betty's husband and my Papa
Colonel C.T. Boys, Betty’s husband and my Papa

There she was, both feet planted on the headboard, staring at the enormous portrait hanging above her bed.  She admired the man in the picture and the work of the artist, not knowing that it was actually she who had painted it.  She couldn’t place him, but she knew him.  She would do this so often that eventually the painting was removed.  It was dangerous for her to flip around in bed all the time and it confused her to wonder who the man was and why she seemed to know this piece so well.  Her son took it home with him and hung it on his own wall.  He could appreciate the memory of his father without doing somersaults off the furniture. Continue reading →