A Photo-less Update

So sorry for the lack of a photo today!  I do try to post at least one photo, because my animals are super cute. But I realized I've been really remiss in taking pictures of my clan lately, and I have nothing current to share with you.  I promise to do better this week--more pictures! more cuteness! 

Though we're waiting on new test results re: Indiana's kidneys/UTI, she's actually been feeling really good.  We had very unpleasant weather on Sunday, requiring me to drag all 6 of my less-than-willing animals into the basement.  Q went down to the basement on his own (the lure of seeing what I was up to was too great for him), but I had to herd the other 5.  I had to be really strategic about it, because Q was already down there, and not everyone gets along with Q.  Mr. S was my next logical choice, because he and Q are fine together.  Gus hates Q, and vice versa, so I knew Gus would be last to enter the basement.  Plus, he was sleeping in his happy spot, so upon plucking him up from his happy spot, I knew he would be decidedly unhappy.  Indy can't do stairs anymore, so I had to pick all 70 pounds of her up myself, and carry her down a flight of stairs.  It wasn't so much hard as it was butt-puckeringly-frightening.  I was so scared of dropping her or of tripping.  But I knew I was carrying most precious cargo, and I was determined to get her down safely.  And I did. 

Then we had to spend over an hour down in the basement.  Luckily, I have a music studio down there, complete with a couch, so at least it's (relatively) clean and pretty comfy.  But cold.  And after the first ten minutes, the power went off and didn't come back on again for over 7 hours.  Smart Mom that I am, I completely neglected to bring a flashlight ("Nah.  The power NEVER goes out.  We'll be fiiiiiiiiiiiiiine."), so when the power went out, Isis freaked the heck out, upsetting all of the other animals.  I was left with only my cell phone for light, because I didn't trust my animals alone in the basement long enough to run upstairs and get a flashlight.  Plus, you know, death.  There was that to be afraid of too. 

During that hour, my cats were constantly at each other's throats.  Gus was bored, so he would playfully attack Sam or Mr. S, which Q would misread as an actual attack, which caused him to lunge after Gus in a very aggressive way, which caused Gus to react in kind, which caused me to be very annoyed and angry.  That hour couldn't go by fast enough.

In the end, I was able to release the critters back into the house.  I thought about carrying Indy back up the stairs, but sometimes she gets offended if we do things for her that she can do herself, so I decided to let her try (slightly assisted) to go up the stairs by herself.  And let me say that she accomplished that like a rock star.  Then, on three separate occasions later that day,  I saw her up on the bed--where she had climbed all by herself.  She was on a roll, and I was a very happy Mama.  Plus, she's been eating really well and taking all of her pills without a fuss, so essentially, my world is a very happy place right now.

One Where I Get All Deep

This photo is totally unrelated.  But cute.

So, I had a major revelation yesterday.  I'm kind of proud of it, actually.  I won't go into specifics just yet, because, as with everything, it's complicated, but it occurred to me that we often confuse pride for happiness. 

Let's say that you have a job that you're really proud of.  Something that makes for good conversation at a party.  You're really proud that you're, say, the director of an environmental non-profit.  You're really good at it, it was your dream job, and people think it's neat.  It's noble.  You have a job that not everyone has, or can do.  But your job doesn't make you happy.  Maybe it takes you away from home more often than you like.  Maybe you have to travel.  Maybe it's a lot of paperwork and red tape, and lot less chaining-yourself-to-redwoods than you expected. 

But, I'm good at running my environmental non-profit, you say to yourself.  I've made it really successful, and a lot of people benefit from it.  I *am* this organization.  Everyone knows me as Joe Schmoe, Environmental Non-Profit Director.  But then you realize that you hate the ins-and-outs of the job.  They say you have to take the good with the bad, but you find that the bad just doesn't always seem worth it.  You suddenly realize that though you take a lot of pride in your job, maybe even have your identity wrapped up in it, it doesn't make you happy.  You realize that what would make you happy is something totally different.  Maybe you don't even know what that "something different" is, just that it suddenly isn't your non-profit anymore.

Then comes this guilt.  How can I let go something that was my dream?  Something I put so much time into?  Something that makes me special, makes me me.  You worry that by leaving your non-profit, your dream, you will lose a bit of yourself.  All you know is that while you're proud of your job, it's not making you happy. 

And that's it.  That's as far as I've gotten.  But I think I'm right.  Pride and happiness are two totally different things.  I think the key to letting go of the pride is to find it within yourself, without needing outside confirmation that you are something special.  I struggle with this every day.  And someday I hope to have the rest of the answer.  When I do, I'll let you know.

Another Round

My Boo has another UTI.  She's been getting about one a month, which means we are almost constantly treating her for one.  I'm getting to be an expert at diagnosing them myself, and by diagnosing them myself,  I mean that I notice that she is peeing on the floor, and then I have to pay a lot of money for a test that will tell me what I already know.  Then I get drugs.  (And this happens quickly now, because her UTIs go from zero to awful in about 24 hours)

UTIs suck not only because they make Indy feel kind of miserable, but they almost always cause her to alter her eating habits.  So our very restricted dietary options become even more narrow.  I posted a frantic Facebook request for ideas on how to get her to take her pills, because, suddenly, none of our old stand-bys were working.  Cream cheese: no.  Peanut butter: no.  Liver sausage: no.  American cheese: no.  My friends came to my rescue with great ideas, and one idea (thanks, Brittany!) I was able to use right away, because I had all the necessary ingredients already at my disposal: white bread with some corn syrup on it.  This has been working really well.  Miraculously, almost.  But then, this morning, three pills from the end, Indy started spitting out the bread.  So we switched back to peanut butter to finish up, and that worked.  So now, not only is Indy changing her mind meal-to-meal, but, apparently she is also changing her mind mid-meal.  That's super great.

I don't think this infection is clearing up as quickly as the others have, so we'll be taking a urine sample in today to see what's going on.  Usually, after a few days of antibiotics, the urine leaking stops, but we're on day 10, and she's still leaking.  (Sometimes it just takes her bladder a while to tighten back up, but I figure better safe than sorry) 

Overall, Indy seems to be feeling okay.  Pickiness aside, she's eating really well, and she's very alert and happy.  So it could be a lot worse.  But I would love to know why her UTIs have become so frequent.  If you have any ideas or suggestions, I'd welcome any of them!

A Pictoral of Amy and I Being Dumb in Boston

Quack. Quack. Amy and I rode the Ducks.

Every girls trip must include shopping.  And lobster headbands.

Though we actually were staying in a really nice hotel, the ice scoop was the same litter scoop I use at home.  I nearly peed my pants, laughing so hard.  Oh, and we had to use a small kitchen pot as an ice bucket.

Penguins at the New England Aquarium! Amy and I love penguins.  (Amy's a bit obsessed)

The world's cutest penguins--little blue penguins.  You can even see the little guy in the middle shaking his money-maker.

This trip involved a lot of hats.

I told you she was obsessed.

The world's best mac and cheese, at Faneuil Hall. 

The place where everybody knows your name!

I think this picture defies description.

We totally had a drink at the actual Bull and Finch, not the fake "tourist" Cheers bar.  Oh, but that's Diet Coke, since that's how I roll.

More shopping.  Do you think this one looks good on me?

The famous Boston Common ducks. 

Lobsters...in...spaaaaaaaaaaaaaace.

It's a bit hard to see, but Amy is giving this grasshopper a rectal exam, natch.

Heh.

Happy Birthday to The Noodle

 My Noodle turns 12 today!

I feel guilty today, for two reasons.  One, while catching up with my online friends (in person) last week, I realized they were barely aware that I had a second dog.  And two, I woke up this morning (not on my own), and I didn't realize until I got an email from Dogster that today is Isis' birthday.  I mean, I probably would have figured it out, but I still felt bad that Dogster remembered before I did. 

I've written about Isis before, usually about how she plays second fiddle to Indiana.  It's not that I love her less, because I certainly don't, but she's independent and neurotic, and well, healthy.  So she requires a lot less from me.  And sometimes I really, really love that about her.  She's so simple.  All she wants most days is food and attention when she asks for it (and she's VERY forward about asking for attention). 

But today my youngest dog turns 12.  True to form, while I was feeling guilty about my delayed memory (let's not call it "forgetting," okay?), Isis was running around the house, happy as a clam, because Daddy had gotten home from work.  When I got out of bed, she simply wanted her food, then she went back to her bathroom (because that's where she chooses to sleep) to nap until lunch.  A simple, happy day for a simple, happy dog.

Jim and I won't let today go without a celebration though.  We're taking Isis out for a run this afternoon (she's deliriously happy on runs), and then for dinner, we'll load up both dogs and take them to Culver's for a hamburger and then to the Dairy Queen for ice cream.  For us, so simple, but for Isis, absolutely perfect.

An Amazing Weekend

Kerry, Me, Andrea, Teresa, and Keri

This past weekend was the 4th Annual Paws 4 A Cure Walk.  If you've ever read my blog before, you probably are familiar with it, as I've spammed these pages for about two months now, trying to promote the organization and my walk team.  I was super excited to fly to Boston with my best buddy Amy and walk in honor of Indiana.  I'd be meeting a bunch of my online pet cancer friends in person for the first time, so I was really looking forward to that.  These ladies most definitely did not disappoint!

Though I had never laid eyes on these women (other than pictures) before, meeting them was so natural and easy.  We're all friends on Facebook, and we've been through illnesses and losses together, so really, we already knew each other so well.  It was just wonderful to finally get to hug these wonderful friends of mine, to look into their eyes and carry on a live conversation.  I know it made us closer than ever.  I am so blessed that I got to have this experience, and to get to share it with Amy. 

The walk itself was amazing.  The day held up to the old adage, "Anything that can go wrong, will."  Poor Keri (the founder of Paws 4 A Cure) was running around like mad the morning of the walk, trying to fix everything that was going wrong.  But it all worked out beautifully.  True, it started to pour down rain during walker registration.  Yes, some families with pets left early because of the weather.  But still, many brave, dedicated souls stayed for the walk, and we were rewarded with a break in the rain in time for the opening ceremonies. 

The opening ceremonies started with a balloon release. 

Everyone was given a balloon on which to write the names of pets up at the Rainbow Bridge.  We released the balloons together, sending our love to our loved ones who have left us.  I wrote the names of my pets that I've lost as well as the names of the pets I was walking for.  You all were in my thoughts that day!  I severely underestimated how hard this would be.  The minute my balloon was in my hands, I started to tear up, and it didn't stop until I was blubbering at the release.  Not only was I missing my own loved ones, but I was crying for all of the pets lost to my PCS friends over the years, especially the ladies on the walk with me.

So many pets gone.  So much love being sent to them.

Then we were off!

Keri put us PCS ladies in charge of leading the walk, which was sweet but nearly disastrous, as we didn't know until about 0.02 seconds before the walk started that we were in charge.  So we didn't know the route.  We may have taken one wrong turn.  Requiring a shortcut through a parking lot.  Followed by several dozen people and their dogs.  Ooops.

After 3.1 miles, we finished!  Teresa was in this photo in spirit, but in actuality, we left her behind on the trail.  Ooops.  Sorry, Teresa!  (Pictured with us in her stead is her amazing daughter Chelsea, whom I totally want to adopt)

After this picture was taken, I hightailed it to the cake tent for, you guessed it, cake.  (We were celebrating co-founder Chee's upcoming 14th Birthday)  I initially got a piece of white cake (my favorite), but then a piece of chocolate was calling to me as well, and since I had just walked a 5K and skipped lunch, I figured I deserved it.  Plus, I made Chelsea split it with me.

This is our good buddy Wilson, a three-time mast cell survivor.  He's a good friend of Keri and Chee's, and now a good friend to all of us.  He knew we were carrying treats and used his adorable looks for evil.  He was constantly extorting us for treats.  Quite successfully, I might add.

The walk was held on the lovely Lake Quannopowitt, in Wakefield, MA 

Me and the ladies, including Paws co-founder Chee!  Check out her sweet ride that her other Aunties and I made for her.

Me and sweet Chee.  I got lots of snuggle time with her, which was awesome.

Team Leaders will be receiving spreadsheets sometime this week or next with all of the information on how much money we raised.  Based on the preliminary numbers I saw, I believe Team Indiana Bones will have raised over $800, which exceeds any number I ever expected to see.  My heartfelt thanks go out to all of our sponsors--some of whom I don't even know about yet.  So if I haven't thanked you, it's only because I haven't yet been made aware of your donation.  Still, I am touched by each and every donation our team received.  Thank you from the bottom of my heart for your love and support of me and my sweet cancer survivor!

This simply was a perfect weekend, full of laughter, tears, and so much love.  This group of women is, in a word, amazing.  I am lucky to know each and every one of you.  You all are tremendous people, full of love, with the biggest hearts I have ever met.  I am so fortunate to know you all.  After attending this amazing event, Amy and I decided to make it a yearly ritual.  I hope next year to see even more of my PCS friends, and to raised even more money, and save even more lives!

One Last Push

Finally, after months of planning, I leave for Boston for the Paws 4 A Cure walk tomorrow.  I'm really excited, because I get to meet three of my very good online friends in person for the first time.  As is always the case when I get the opportunity to meet my fellow cancer parents, it will seem so natural, with no awkwardness between us.  When you get to know someone on a very basic level--how a person thinks and feels about their family, sharing all of your fears and celebrations--then meeting in person isn't essential to "getting to know" each other.  But it certainly is icing on the cake.  And to get to spend a whole weekend with these phenomenal women...well, there are just no words for what that means to me. 

One of my closest friends, Amy, is going to be walking with me, and it warms my heart to know that she loves me and Indy enough to do that for us.  We'll both be walking in honor of Indiana, in honor of one of the bravest, most inspiring dogs I have ever known.  And I'll be walking with so many other dogs in my heart too, dogs who have passed on, dogs I never had the honor of meeting (and some that I did), but who I feel like I do know, because of the stories of love, triumph, and, ultimately, of loss, I experienced with their parents.  To those parents, please know that I too love your pets, and they will be so close to me on Sunday. 

It would mean the world to me if you would make a donation to Paws 4 A Cure, either in honor of my brave girl or in honor or memory of your own beloved pet.  So many families face difficult decisions.  Please help make them a little easier. 

He Loves That Dog

For anyone who reads my blog regularly or has met Gus in person, you know one very important thing about him--he's cute, but he's crabby.  Gus is the cat of my heart, which is probably a good thing, since he's the one who gave me osteomyelitis.  Granted, that was totally his fault, but still, it kind of fits his personality.

Gus is adorable, which makes you want to cuddle and snuggle with him.  This assumption would be a big mistake.  Gus is capable of being cuddly, but most definitely only under his own terms.  (As is typically the case with any cat, but with Gus, the stakes are much higher)  Gus is most friendly when he is (a) hungry or (b) asleep.  The second one is most ideal because it is also the moment in time when he is least sharp, i.e. less dangerous, so I often take advantage of his sleep-induced cat coma to kiss and snuggle him.  And also to sniff his breath.  Is that weird?

Gus also isn't much of a lap sitter.  You certainly can't pick him up and put him on your lap and expect him to stay.  What you can expect is a growl, maybe a hiss, and almost certainly a claw or two.  So, basically, never pick Gus up.  Though we do.  Usually when we're feeling sassy.  It's kind of like gambling with your life though, so when you pick him up, you get this rush of adrenaline, because anything can happen--maybe you'll make it out alive, and maybe you won't, but in that moment you feel so ALIVE!  Okay, it's not quite that bad, but still, picking him up is a risk.

About once a day, Gus does get the urge for lap time.  It's a huge coup for whoever gets him.  You can actually pet him and stuff, and he stays for, like, a really long time.  So when Jim and I are on the couch, and we see him walk by, we both make our laps as cat-ready and appealing as possible, and then we mock whoever doesn't get the cat.  Because, you know, we're supportive of each other and stuff. 

The other night, we had a friend over for dinner (and to try to finish watching this miniseries we had started--do you know how hard it is to schedule time to watch an 8-hour miniseries with someone you don't live with--we're dying to finish it, and it seems like we'll never be done!).  Gus came into the room and immediately walked over to snuggle with Indiana.  That's how he rolls--the dog is his best friend.  Our friend saw it and made the most accurate, spot-on observation of Gus: "Awwww.  He hates the world, but he loves that dog."  And indeed he does.

Every Pet Deserves a Chance at Life

In just 3 days, I will be in Boston with my friend Amy to walk in the 4th Annual Paws 4 A Cure Walk.  A while back, I wrote a guilt-inducing (I hope!) post about why groups like Paws 4 A Cure, who provides medical treatment for animals whose parents can't afford it, are important.  We're not talking about medical treatments like teeth cleaning, or shots, or spay and neuter.  We're talking about things like life-or-death surgery or cancer treatments.  Without these, the pets would most likely die. 

It breaks my heart to think that a pet could die because a family couldn't afford to treat them.  Jim and I have always felt so fortunate that we could afford any care for Indiana that we needed.  But not every family is so lucky.  And that's why I feel that it's so important to give back.  Indiana has had almost 5 more years of good quality life since her first cancer diagnosis, and though there have been bumps on the road, she has come through all of them.  I think every pet deserves that chance. 

So that's why I'm donating money to Paws 4 A Cure, and that's why I'm flying all the way to Boston to support my friend, Paws 4 A Cure founder Keri, in this wonderful endeavor.  I would be most grateful if you would make a donation as well.  No amount is too small.  If you feel moved to support this cause, please head to their website and make a pledge.  "Team Indiana Bones" would appreciate your support! Every pet deserves a chance at life!

Samson and the Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Habit

You'd never suspect what lies deep within the depths of his mind.

So Samson has this new habit, and I'm not thrilled with it. 

He's been bringing me dead snakes.

In the house.

Did I mention that they're dead?

Oh, and they have no heads.

Seriously, no heads.

I don't know where the heads go, but by the time he brings them into the house, that part is missing.

So he just tosses the rest of the....gulp...body...around the house, having the best time ever.

I never know where one is going to show up.

If you come over to my house, I recommend looking very carefully before you take a step.

You never know.

I love my Mom

My Mom rocks.

Yesterday was Mother's Day, and although it capped a really busy weekend for me, it was a great day.  The day wasn't about me at all (Jim's been working a crazy number of hours, so I was satisfied with a simple, "Oh, yeah.  Happy Mother's Day.").  But wait, I did get a dead snake from Sam, so at least one of my children remembered.  Hah.

Anyway, after I got off work, I resisted the urge to take a nap (singing for nearly 3 straight hours, plus about 3 total hours of driving to and from Chicago equals a really tired me, every single Sunday) and instead prepared dinner for my Mom.  Since she's a rockstar, she was conducting the pit for one of our community theatre's productions of "Thoroughly Modern Millie," which I got to see on Saturday night.  My Mom is the most engaging pit conductor I've ever seen, working her butt off to be energetic for the instrumentalists and cast.  In fact, last week I got an email from my Mom saying, "We need to go jeans shopping soon.  I cut the legs off a pair in the pit the other night because I was so hot."  That's dedication to your craft right there, people. 

I knew dinner last night would need to be simple, because most of my guests would be tired (Mom coming from the show, and Jim coming home late from work).  So I made some of my Mom's favorites, including cold veggie pizza (you know, the kind with biscuit dough and cream cheese dressing?), which she's been craving forever.  Oddly, Mom really wanted veggie pizza for Mother's Day but didn't want to ask me to go through the trouble.  Yay for Mother/Daughter ESP. 

I also always make homemade chocolate eclairs for my Mom for both Mother's Day and her birthday.  It's her favorite dessert ever, and my Grandma always used to make it for her.  So I always make a big batch for her and send them all home for her to enjoy over the next...oh, day or so. 

It was a nice night.  The four of us sat out on the deck and ate our dinner.  It was a little chilly, but still pretty pleasant once you put on a sweater.  It's been an unusually cool spring here in Illinois, so I really wanted to take advantage of the changing (warmer) weather.

I spoiled my Mom with lots of her favorite foods and flowers and presents.  She deserves it.  When I say my Mom is a rockstar, I naturally don't mean it literally, but, still, my Mom is amazing.  She's an amazing teacher, and even though she's been teaching for over 30 years, and she's within a few years of retiring, she still tries new teaching methods, trying to find the best ways to reach and engage her students.  And she wins awards.  And her students love her.  I'm really proud of that.

My Mom is also an amazing actress, singer, conductor, gardener, crafter.  She can build houses, rescue kittens, feed every stray in a one-mile radius.  She does my laundry when she stops by to feed my animals when I'm gone, she cries when she sees her first hummingbird of the year, and she's basically Mom to the whole world.  Which is why I'm so glad she's my Mom.  She's made me the person I am today.  She's my best friend.  She's the best Grandma any dog or cat could ask for.  I am so blessed.

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I would be remiss if I failed to point out that I also have a really wonderful mother-in-law.  She's a warm, loving woman who always sends me a card and a gift for Mother's Day, even though I don't have any humans of my own.  So even though she has 9 grandchildren (of the two-legged variety), she still recognizes my motherhood, and I love her for that (and for so many other reasons). 

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Only 5 days until the Paws 4 A Cure Walk!  It's not too late to consider a tax deductible donation for "Team Indiana Bones!"  Please help save a pet's life!

Redo

My non-profit, The Great Good Heart Animal Cancer Foundation, has a new website!  I've been wanting to redo it for ages, but for various reasons, I never did.  Finally, it came down to finances--by switching to Weebly, we were able to save $120 a year (though actually $60--Jim and I were paying half out of pocket), which, for a tiny non-profit organization, is a huge amount of money.  The new website is not only free, but it looks loads better.  So, yay me! 

Anyway, I would be most grateful if you would visit our new website:  http://www.greatgoodheart.org/.  Please let me know how you like it.  Let me know if you don't like something.  Let me know if there's something missing that you think an animal cancer website should have.  The website still needs a lot of work, but, believe me, it's a whooooooole lot better than the old one!  You can leave opinions as comments here on my blog, or you can email Great Good Heart at cancersupport@greatgoodheart.org. 

Happy Birthday, Mr. Squiggles!

Today is Mr. Squiggles' birthday.  He is 9 years old.  We have so many reasons to celebrate today.  This time last year, Mr. Squiggles was missing, and had been for almost 8 months.  (If you aren't familiar with his story, start here.)  His birthday was a day we just wanted to skip.  We missed him every single day, looked for him every single day, never gave up hope that he would come back to us.  But still, May 4th was hard.  But then, every day was hard.

Today, it's strange to look back on where we were a year ago.  Some days I can almost, almost, forget what we went through.  Yet we will never forget.  I try not to think about those dark days--by this time I had experienced so much loss and pain in such a short period of time--because it's easier to block them out than to think about them.  Thinking about them won't change things, won't make it all go away.  And honestly, all that matters is that our boy is home.  He came back to us. 

I marvel every single day that we got him back.  He is our miracle cat, a perfect match to our miracle dog.  I still stare into his eyes every single day, one of which is so unfamiliar to me, yet the other remains the same, the one that belongs to the boy I always knew and loved.  And amazingly, he has the same personality, only now he is slightly more confident, slightly more assured in what he wants, because, after what he's been through, he knows without a doubt what that is.  We still have litter box wars, and when he's mad, he still pees on the floor.  And you know what?  That's okay.  I can clean it up, or just get a new rug.  It's replaceable.  But you know what's not?  My sweet boy. 

So, happy birthday to my little Mr. Squiggles.  I wish there was a gift I could give you to celebrate this day in the way it deserves to be celebrated.  Getting you back is one of the best gifts I've ever been given.  Happy Birthday, little guy.

Supporting Me For Me

I've written several times about finding the balance between all of my different selves--the mom, the singer, the animal wellness advocate, the artist, the wife, the daughter.  It's tough, as probably every woman knows (we tend to struggle with this more than men--why is that?).  For the past nearly five years, I've put a lot of focus on being "The Mom," dedicating most of my time to my animals, and, specifically, to Indiana.  I don't regret this, but it has left little time for the other selves.  Or, if there has been time, I've felt difficult making decisions that might take me away from caring for Indiana. 

Because we've lived under this umbrella of not knowing how much time she has left, I've not wanted to commit to large projects that will take me away from home, which is partly why I haven't pursued a career in opera in the way I had originally intended.  Again, I don't regret it, and it's allowed me a lot of time with Jim and the rest of my family, and to explore other "selves," like "The Blogger," and "The Cancer Advocate." But now, I've decided to take a leap and do something big, something just for me.

This weekend, I auditioned for a musical, my favorite, "Into the Woods."  A friend had started a new theatre company, one that would do outdoor theatre in the summer, a pretty exciting concept.  After convincing my Mom to try out too, I took the leap and auditioned.  And I made it in.  And I got one of the roles I wanted, the Baker's Wife.  I was beyond excited to be cast, but minutes after I heard, a moment of panic set in.  Doing the show is a two month commitment, sacrificing my weekday evenings for rehearsals.  It's more time than I've given to anything since Indy got sick.  What if something happened?  Was it okay to spend so much time away?  (Even though it's here in town--so no commuting--geez) 

But then I thought to myself, "This is something you want.  This is a part of yourself ("The Actress") that you've missed.  Indy is doing well.  She's stable.  This is a chance to do something just for you.  That's not selfish.  That's okay."  I've put a lot of thought into this decision, and while it's something so different for the new me, I've decided that that's alright.  Jim will be home most evenings, and while yes, I am sacrificing time away from my family, I am enriching me.  I've given so much to others, and now it's time to give back to myself.  So I'm taking the plunge, and going "Into the Woods."

Seeking Fortune and Glory

This weekend was Indiana's 13th Birthday party, with the theme of "Indiana Bones."  We had such a good time.  We had almost 30 people at the party (plus one doggie guest), and because it was so windy outside, we had to have the party inside.  Luckily, all of the guests get along! 

The spread of food.  I forgot to take a picture before the food was devoured, but you get the idea.  The food was themed to the party, of course, with foods from the different countries featured in the movies.  Check out the awesome golden idol in the center of the photo, by the way.

Each guest got their own golden goblet.  Each guest was tasked with picking "the cup of Christ," by flipping over their cup.  If they "chose poorly," they got the aging, melty-faced guy.  One guest "chose wisely," picking the cup with the knight, and winning a prize!

Again, I forgot to take a picture of the beverage table before all of the cups were taken, but it looked pretty cool.

Part of the decor.  Note the monkey.

Dessert!  I like to bake.

And I really like dessert.

What's an Indiana Jones party without chilled monkey brains?  Nobody really ate it (and I can't say as though I blame them), but it was totally worth it because everyone thought it was funny.

The lady of the day.  She had THE. BEST. TIME.  Every time a guest would come in, she would light up.  And she got tons of attention.  She sat in the middle of all of the action, surveying her kingdom.  All of the work, all of the stress, was totally worth it, seeing her face during this party.

Some of the guests.

My doggie-cousin, Honey.  She was so good and totally funny.  She found a cat toy mouse, thought it was real, and ran around the house at top speed with it in her mouth, showing it to all of the guests and the cats.  I died laughing.

Indiana with my friend's baby.  He was so good with her, and she with him.  The photo is blurry, but I couldn't resist posting it.

My friend's baby, bringing a toy to Indy.  So sweet!

Our vet came to the party!  She laid down with Indiana, and Indy looked at her like, "What the heck are YOU doing here?" Then she gave her a giant kiss right on the nose.  I love this picture!

Overall, it was a wonderful day.   We had several games and fun prizes, which the guests really enjoyed, and way too much food.  It was crazy busy, and utterly fantastic.  I love all of our friends and family for being such good sports, and for supporting us and Indiana.  That's true love, honestly.  Indiana is still exhausted from the big day, but in seeing her face, and the looks of delight at all of the action and attention, I would do it all again in a heartbeat.  That is exactly why we throw these parties.  I love that dog with all my heart.