Our kitchen floor is FINALLY (almost) done.

Back in March I mentioned that D and I had decided to start some "home renovation" projects. Nothing too huge (although eventually we will have to tackle the bathroom and the thought of that makes me break out in hives), and lord knows with the way I feel and my attention span, it's been a bit of a challenge.

The living room painting is still not completed (all walls need at least one more coat and the trim needs finished), but the ceiling is painted, so there's that. Oh yeah, I have decided to paint all of the ceilings in our house black and all the trim charcoal by the way.... I like the darkness and living in a "cave."

The biggest thing that we've done thus far is our kitchen floor. I got this random idea (thanks, Pinterest and every DIY blog ever written) that creating our floor out of pallets would be a fantastic idea.

It's been a stressful couple of months living in a "construction zone" but this past Memorial Day weekend (three days!) we FINALLY finished it.... mostly. I say mostly only because it has to have it's final "leveling" layer of polyurethane applied, but other than that IT'S DONE.

Our kitchen is kind of normal again, and the next project in there is D is gonna build cabinets with an attached counter, because we literally have NO counter space. And very little cabinet space. And of course, we have to paint (the ceiling is going to be black), and I think we've settled on the walls being a navy blue. Who knows when all of this will get done, but since I plan on living in our house until I die (because f*ck moving), we've got some time.

But y'all, the biggest hurdle in there (the floor) is FINALLY (mostly) done. And yes, I love it.

My little buddo is sick and so very pitiful.

I had to take Spart to the emergency vet yesterday afternoon.

He has a tendency to break out in hives. He has for as long as he's been a member of our family and since he is mostly white with extremely fine hair, it's usually very visible. Usually, this problem can be handled with a couple of Benadryl and a nap and he goes on his merry way.

But, not this time.

He's been kind of groggy for a couple of days, but all of our pups have, because it's been raining for damn near three weeks straight, so I didn't think much about it, because that pup can DO SOME SERIOUS SLEEPING.

Yesterday morning when I got up for work he didn't want to go outside to potty with his brothers (not unusual for him), so I let him sleep and headed on out. About two hours later, Devon called me and said that his right eye was swollen damn near shut and his neck was swollen. I left work and headed straight home to give him Benadryl and Tylenol and to wash everything that he could have laid on just in case.

A couple of hours later his right eye was starting to look better. It was still red, but the swelling had gone down and his neck looked less swollen as well. So, I let him continue napping.

Well.... when he woke up from his nap his right eye was still red, but his left eye looked like it had a tennis ball attached to it and he couldn't open it, his neck was re-swollen, he was covered in giant hives from head to toe and when he tried to set down on his butt he cried out in pain (I later found out this was because he had welt-hives on his rear end that I'm assuming were quite painful.) Even his little private parts were swollen up and blood red.

I called every vet I could think of immediately and luckily got him into the one around the corner from our house. The poor little fella is not a fan of car rides and once I said the "v word" (vet) he used every bit of strength he had to try and not get into my car. I had to physically pick him up and put him in the car and carry him into the vet office.

He was diagnosed as having had a severe allergic reaction, but we have no clue to what. He also was running a temperature and has an ear infection.

One giant shot, steroids, ear drops, two prescriptions, the last nerve I had left, and $218 later, he's feeling a bit better.

When he got his shot I stood there holding him and the vet had to give it to him in his rear. Usually he will eat anything and everything in sight, but when the vet tried to give him treats as a peace offering, he was having none of it. He was all, I WILL NOT EAT THESE TREATS AS A SIGN OF DISRESPECT TO YOU, SIR."

The entire time he was sick the only thing I could think was, something was gonna happen to Momma's dog. Because he's my pup, but he was also Momma's baby and the thought of something being wrong was doubly unbearable.

He slept on and off for most of the evening and he's had a couple of the "normal" side effects associated to the steroid he has to take (heavy breathing/panting, restlessness, groggy, etc.) and he's had a couple of accidents in the house (he honestly can't help it though!), but for the most part.... knock on wood.... he seems to be doing better.

I came into work this morning, because almost everybody else is off due to Memorial Day, but UR is letting me go home at lunch and stay so that I can watch over him the rest of the day and since I'm off for the next three after today, hopefully I can keep a good eye on him.

Hopefully, in the next couple of days he'll be fully recovered and feeling like his regular/goofy/lovable self again. (Although, he's still all about some cuddles). ❤

Some things I've learned since my boyfriend asked me to marry him.

Oh yeah, did I forget to mention that? I know I talked about how my boyfriend was trying to talk me into marriage and I didn't know how anything was going to unfold. Well, guess what?

I still have no f*cking clue.

But, he did ask. And apparently it needs said, because my entire family and all my friends were like "well.... what did you say?"

I said yes.

He actually had to propose twice (ok, he didn't "have to" but he did), because he actually got my ring from his grandmother and mother. You see, the engagement ring was his grandmother's and the band was his mothers. And that to me is better than getting some new ring, because it's more special (or at least, that's my opinion on it).

But, in his haste to propose (at our home while I was wearing no makeup and cooking dinner in my pajamas), he proposed with the band. I didn't want to tell anybody until I had the chance to tell Dani, but made the exception for him to tell his mom, because come on, it's his mom. He sent her the picture of me wearing it and she was like, "aw sweetie, wrong ring." So, he did it again. And that's just too good apart of the story to leave out for me.

With all of that being said, I thought I would share some of the things that I've "learned" since becoming engaged.

#1: I never thought the day would come where if I ever decided to get married, I wouldn't have Momma here with me: and I don't care for it one bit. In the interest of full disclosure, Devon talked to Momma about asking me to marry him before she passed away. I know this, because she mentioned a little something about it to me. I think she did it just so I wouldn't know he was going to ask, but so I knew when he finally did, she more than approved. We used to watch that show "Say Yes to the Dress" together all the time, and would just have fun with it. But, never did I think the day would come to where she wouldn't physically be here with me if I ever had to say yes to a dress. And I know she's here in spirit and in my heart, but it still hurts and I would be lying if I said I knew how to process any of this. (I don't).

Side note: Devon told me when he asked her she kind of chuckled and said, "that girl will marry you, but she'll never change her mind about babies." It's amazing how well she knows me.

#2: Everyone thought that I was going to "die alone" as an old spinster: which to be fair, isn't that far of a stretch. I've always said that marriage and kids are not for me (and I still maintain my stance on the not having kids part) and I like to spend enormant amounts of time alone. Well, alone with my pups at least. I know most people find the company of others to be comforting, but me, not so much. I prefer to be by myself (mostly). I don't know why, but I just do, and I've always been ok with that. When I made the comment, "wow, alot of people thought I was gonna die alone" my brother let me know that whether anybody else did or not.... he definitely did. Thanks, bro.

#3: Wedding dress shopping seems a lot more challenging and expensive than tv would leave you to believe: there's not an endless supply of dresses you love in your price range. I decided to just "look" at wedding dresses online, even though I have no idea when we will get married. But, I thought that since I didn't want anything real "fancy" that the process would be relatively painless. I. Was. F*cking. Wrong. Did you know that "legit" bridal places don't usually even have dresses for less than $300? And yeah, I know people spend much more money on those kinds of things, but I have no desire to be forking out almost an entire mortgage payment (or more!) for ONE DRESS.

#4: While I usually love the fact that Devon doesn't have too much to say about the way I dress/look, I find it very irritating that he won't give me an opinion on what kind of wedding dresses he likes: it's a simple question(s), dude.... THERE ARE TOO MANY OPTIONS. He's all, "it's your dress, it doesn't matter what I like and don't like, it's for you to pick out and love." And while that's usually a sweet sentiment and I love him for it, I'm also like dude this is hard, help a gal out. Then he mentioned something about a poofy camo wedding dress and while I love camo I had to look at him like he was smoking crack rock. Then he mentioned a black wedding dress. But when I said something about an "off white" dress he was all, "you don't wanna wear white?!" I was forced to tell him that "white" is traditionally for virgins, because it's a sign of purity, and we've known each other since we were fifteen, THE JIG IS UP. Needless to say, I still have no idea what I'm doing.

#5: And not that I had any doubt about it, but I'm real happy that I'll have a different last name: for a long time Momma and I talked about me changing my last name (I would have taken her maiden name) and we always said that I would do that by the time I'm thirty. Well, I might not be married and have an official different last name by the time I'm thirty, but I'm on the way.

Basically, I've learned that I need a nap and a drink. Oh, and while I like Say Yes to the Dress, it's a bag of horseshit.

Be that as it may, I'm still trying.

One hundred eleven. 111. It seems odd to write that number, because it doesn't seem like it's really all that significant.

And yet, here I am.... acknowledging the fact that Momma has been gone for 111 days.

It seems like it was just yesterday and three lifetimes ago all at once.

I would like to be able to say that I'm doing good and that I've learned to accept and move on from the situation, but the truth is, I'm not.

I'm not feeling better, I'm not physically better, and I'm not mentally better.

Basically, nothing is better and I don't foresee it getting there. I'm sure eventually it will, but for now, I'm still in Limbo replaying my entire life up until that point over and over again until my brain may in fact overheat.

I'm still having those anxiety attacks. It's actually getting harder to get out of bed, and I can't tell if it's a mental or physical thing. (But, my bet would be mental).

I don't want to leave my house and whether it be lack of sleep or something else, my entire body is in pain. Even going down the road to Aunt Poot's for a cookout seems like an incredibly daunting task. I still randomly burst out in tears and replay everything that I tried to do and couldn't do all over and over in my mind.

I try to tell myself that nothing can change what is, but that doesn't help AT ALL.
And don't even get me started on how "Mother's Day" went over this year.

I've been attempting to do more things around the house (trying to keep up with cleaning, laundry, mowing/weed eating grass, etc.), but still find that I would rather lay in the dark and not move at all. I'm pushing myself to "do more" and keep finding that it's exhausting. And not a regular kind of exhausting, but an exhausting that I've never felt before.

After speaking to a friend of mine that lost her mother a couple of years ago, she suggested that maybe I should go and talk to my doctor for something that would help "short term" until I can cope with things on my own. I just don't know about it.

I don't mean to feel this way, and I even feel guilty for it, but I can't seem to help it. My "putting on a brave face so my family and friends don't worry about me" facade is getting better by the day though.... probably.

Apart from that, here I sit. In Limbo.

But, I'm trying. Because as I've said before, and I will be forever convinced of, she would kick my ass if I didn't.

Snapchat is an evil.... but mostly hilarious.... thing.

My brother and D decided to play around with Snapchat filters and to say that it was pretty damn hilarious would be an understatement. Personally, I don't do Snapchat, but I've seen enough of the filters around to know that it can get pretty wonky at times. I mean, we've all seen the girls with the puppy eyes/tongues, right?!

There's a new one out (at least, I think it's new?) that switches your gender. They decided to play with that one a little and hilarity definitely ensued.

In fact, it changed D into his mom, my brother into a Bratz doll, and me? Well.... it directly changed me into my brother. And we laughed about it for hours (I actually couldn't breathe for a minute, because I was laughing too hard). Now I think D finds it both hysterical and creepy at how much my brother and I look alike.

"Our damn parents are so ungrateful and rude." -Our pups on a daily basis

Dude. ❤️ Life would "succ" without you too.

Tayder and Xur are like Devon and enjoy/want all the sunshine they can get.... Spart is like me and gets annoyed by light.

November 1999. ❤️