Wings Like Stained Glass

What A Fluke

Photos

My parents and Arrow just left from their week long trip here and our wonderful trip to the Cape.  I realized that my camera held some older photos that needed to be addressed first so here they are:

Dozer and Dee at Lake Chauncey which is near our house.  This is from Dozer's first time there months ago.  She is so much bigger now and practically dives head first into all water.

Dozer can now swim like a freaking otter.  

Photos from the trip to come, ASAP!

Ketchup

Hello everyone.  I know it has been far too long since my last blog post but whatchagonnado? Life gets in the way.  I've had quite the busy summer with 2 summer clinic placements and an online graduate biostatistics course that made me want to slit my wrists.  We managed to make it down to the Cape for a night and are going back next week.  My parents come into town on Saturday and we are all going to enjoy the cooler Cape weather.  Ross and the girls are good.  Dozer is getting bigger every day and is the most stubborn animal I have ever met.  Good thing she's cute.  My 29th birthday was on Wednesday, which seems unreal.  We are going to have a little shindig when my parents are here.  Anyway, other than lots of work and enjoying time with the pups, not much has happened.  Here are a few pictures to keep you interested.

Happenings

I've been meaning to sit down and write a post for a while, but every time I sit down at the computer I seem to find something else to do.  Summer is going well here.  So far the hot and humid days have been minimal and it has been nice watching Dozer grow.  She and Dee have such a special relationship.  There is nothing quite like walking through the door to two excited pups who are thrilled to see you.  Work at the clinic is challenging.  New clients, new supervisors, new challenges.  I thoroughly enjoy my clients, but they are also a lot of work.  I lie in bed at night and envision activities, formulate treatment plans, and try to figure out how to make myself a better clinician for these people.  If only they knew that I lose sleep over how to "play" with them and meet my goals.  One thing I have learned about getting a Master of Science in Speech-Language Pathology is that you don't get it unless you go through it.  My cohort and I have found a fun site written by an SLP student.  I shared the site with my mom and told her how funny it was.  She didn't get it, and it was then that I realized when you go into a specialty you need people.  You need "your people".  People who can talk about things only your group understands.  Sometimes it feels like a club, sometimes it feels lonely. I cherish my people (Shana, thank you for the advice and responding to every freak out text I send).  I get through each rough day knowing that 1. It gets better, 2. It will eventually feel more natural, and 3. Parents hand their children off to me and trust my skills.  And every week that they bring those children back to me is a vote of confidence in my skills.  So, thank you parents, for trusting your children with me during a time when emotions are running high.

There has been an unexpected element in my life since April as well.  April 15th to be exact.  Was I on Boylston Street when the bombs went off? No.  But the first week was spent not knowing what was going to happen next.  We didn't know who had done it, or where they were.  I went to school the day after the bombings.  Northeastern University is less than a mile from the scene.  It is also centered in the Longwood Medical area where the victims were recovering in various amazing Boston hospitals. In following weeks I drove past the scene on my way home. Past police barricades, soldiers, and a wall of flowers left by Bostonians, knowing the immediate danger had passed but the healing was just beginning. My classmate lost a good friend in the bombing.  68 students in my cohort, one lost a friend, and while it could have been worse, one is terrible enough to affect us all.

I must say that I was not as emotionally affected by the bombings than I was by the manhunt the following Friday which I will get into in a minute.  Yes, the bombings were unbelievably horrific, as were the photos from the scene.  But sometimes, at least for me, something is so awful that the brain cannot fully process the images.  My deeper reactions came when the photos of the bombers were released.  The minute the "white hat" bomber was shown I had a feeling in the pit of my stomach that I had seen this man before.  Then it was discovered that he lived in Cambridge, where I worked for 18 months.  He was a lifeguard at the Harvard swimming pool, he was part of the community.  Had I passed him when taking the kids on a stroller ride to the park or Harvard Square? Had I had lunch next to him at a local eatery? I don't know.  But I am confident that we crossed paths at some point.  It is the only time I have ever had that reaction to a suspect's photo on the news.  I will never know why I knew his face, and that doesn't really matter.  But let me speak to the manhunt in Cambridge and Watertown the Friday after the bombings.  School was closed, Boston was closed, surrounding towns were closed.  I watched the local news, which was on 24 hours and commercial free for days, and saw tanks rolling through these places I know and love.  Sheriff staging areas outside the building where I took the kids for swim lessons.  Soldiers on corners.  And an unbelievable number of law enforcement officers from local to FBI to SWAT teams from neighboring states.  It was awe inspiring, as was the professionalism of our police force and, remarkably, our local media station.

It's been 50 days since the bombings, which has given me an opportunity to analyze the ways it has affected me.  In the first week it was obvious.  A siren was heard passing by school and an entire class shifts in their seats, looks toward the sound, acknowledges that what was once a daily city sound is different.  During that week the presence of officers and military on every corner was another constant reminder.  As time has passed the sirens aren't as loud, the streets have been opened, and the victims are out of the hospital.  Red Sox games are enjoyed at Fenway, the Bruins are celebrated, and the Duck Tours signal the influx of summer tourists.  Universities held their commencement ceremonies (including Boston University who lost a senior in the bombing), and Boston is still it's amazing self. I say "still" because that was never lost.  Humanity amazes me in what we are capable of, the terrible, and the magical.

So I go to school.  I drive on Boylston Street.  I hear the sirens a little louder.  I have a blue and yellow ribbon on my backpack.  I move forward and recognize how I've been changed.

Just Some Update Pictures

I thought y'all would like to see how Miss Dozer Belle is growing.  Well...she's growing.  Her paws are huge, which doesn't bode well for her being a lap dog.  Diezel is an amazing big sister.  She puts the smack down when necessary and puts up with Dozie's endless chewing on her, climbing on her, and basically tormenting her.  Crate training, which worked with Dee, did not happen with Dozer.  She sleeps in bed with us and does really well.  Our thoughts are that she spent much of her life before meeting us in a cage and she just could't deal.  So she sleeps between us, like the big lush she is.  She is living up to her name too.  She bulldozes through life, especially outside where she has been known to go face first on her belly down a grassy hill followed by a few barrel rolls.  She also loves to doze...a lot.  This pup can sleep in any position at any time.  It's ridiculous. Well, here are a few recent pics.  Enjoy!

New Family Member

I would like for y'all to met the newest family member, Diezel's new little sister, Dozer Belle!!

We got her at a pet shelter in Salem, MA on Sunday.  We have known for a while that Dee needed a playmate (or "subwoofer" as we like to say), and after a lot of looking and waiting we decided to pull the trigger.  Dozie is 10 weeks old and was the first puppy we asked to play with and she and Dee were immediate best friends.  The staff at the shelter were amazed at their instant bond.  Ross and I knew we were done, we had to have her.  She was found with her litter-mates in Marietta, Georgia when she was 6 weeks old and was just brought up here last week.  Her middle name, Belle, reflects her roots as a Southern Belle. Her first name is Dozer because, well, we liked it.  It goes well with Diezel.  She is a hysterical sleeper (dozer) and she bulldozes her way through the world snout first.  We think she is half German Shepherd and half either Golden Retriever or Golden Lab.  We aren't sure.  Let me know if you have an opinion!! In the meantime, enjoy.