Oh Won't You Stay?

Just a little bit longer. Here goes the rest.

The wonderful thing about having the internet at our fingertips everywhere we go is that we have unlimited resources to learn whatever we want, whenever we want. The terrible thing about having the internet at our fingertips everywhere we go is that we have unlimited resources to learn whatever we want, whenever we want.

With access to sites like WebMD, it's all too easy to get sucked in and fall victim to medical student's disease. Every symptom we read sounds at least vaguely like what's going on, and before we know it, we've got every illness known to man (and possibly some yet to be discovered). I experienced this while studying abnormal psychology, and I experience it when I'm trying to self-diagnose. In most cases, I'm wrong. I've found lumps that I worried endlessly were cancer but turned out to just be fat (ah, lipomas, you sneaky bastards). I've had minor colds that I thought would be the end of me (though, to be fair, who hasn't had that feeling?). It seems like every time I take a stab at it, I've been incorrect.

Until now.

For (potentially) the first time ever, I had correctly self-diagnosed. I had Optic Neuritis (ON). To hear the doctor say it felt simultaneously awful (because of what it could mean) and strangely satisfying. Thankfully, he also said it was a very mild case of ON, and that since I didn't have any other symptoms, he was inclined to believe this was an isolated case. SO. MUCH. RELIEF.

When he brought up ON, and I kind of nodded, he asked if the optometrist had mentioned it as a possibility. "No, but I read about it online." He went on to say that there are steroids available for treatment. IV steroids to start, and then I finished for him, "Followed by oral steroids. Because oral steroids alone show a higher rate of recurrence." Yes, he said that was correct, though they don't have an explanation for it. (In case you're wondering, there was a whole study on ON called the Optic Neuritis Treatment Trial, which is where these findings come from.) He also said that for such a mild case, he wouldn't suggest the steroids, as they're both expensive and can have side effects that are less than ideal.

However, he did say he was going to refer me for an MRI, just to make sure nothing else was going on that might be causing the ON. He asked Hubby if he had any questions about any of this. "Is this the one you were worried because it has ties to..." "MS? Yeah. That's why he's been asking about numbness and tingling and stuff." Doctor nodded and wrote up my referral. He told me that he was "cautiously optimistic" about the outcome and told me that I should try not to dwell on things over the weekend. Then he told me it was a pleasure to meet me, and said, "I doubt I told you anything you didn't already know. I don't think I've ever had a patient so well researched about their condition before." I think he was pretty amused. I, on the other hand, was mostly just relieved.

Anime eyes FTW!

I had the rest of the day off from work, so when I got home I just tried to relax a bit. It was hard because my pupils were still massively dilated. I had to wear sunglasses over my glasses to watch TV, and I tried playing video games, but that just wasn't happening. The MRI clinic called me that afternoon to set up an appointment for early the next week. The earliest appointment that would really work for me was 8 AM the following Wednesday, so I took it. The woman said I'd be there for about 2 hours total, so I braced myself for going it alone. And by "braced myself" I mean that I started a whole new round of freaking out.

Thankfully, Hubby's boss told him just to come to work once my appointment was done. I cannot thank her enough for that, I really can't. He held my hand through the whole scan, which was between 40 minutes and an hour because they had to do both my brain and my orbitals, and they had to do it without and with the dye. He couldn't bring his phone in with him, which I know was hard for him. All he really had was a pillow, his own ear plugs, and a chair. But except for a brief break when they injected the dye, he never let go of my hand. <3

For those of you who have had an MRI, you already know what it's like. For those who haven't, I can explain it in one word: LOUD. Yes, you get ear plugs. Actually, mine were a combination of ear plugs and headphones, and I got to choose which XM station I wanted to listen to (Pop2K), at least between scans. The headphones also served as a communication tool, as the woman running my MRI would pop on to tell me how long each scan would be. "This one is 3 minutes." or "Only 30 seconds this time, stay still."

Trying to stay still is torturous. It's not really a problem at first, but once you've been in there for 20-30 minutes, you kind of start to psych yourself out. Did I move? I can't move. Gotta stay still. Crap, I'm totally moving! I just kept trying harder and harder to keep my head still, which really just meant I was straining my neck muscles like crazy. At one point, she had to come in and put extra sponges around my head because I'd moved too much (she thinks I might've dozed off). Another time she came out because I had squeezed the emergency ball (which I had totally done by accident). She said she had to re-do a couple of scans, but overall I did pretty well.

When I left, they gave me a CD of the scan images and told me they'd get the results to my doctor later that day. I didn't hear from him until Friday, so there are 2 things that happened. First, I poured over those scans looking for... well, I didn't really know. I had seen images online of brain scans with lesions and plaques, but I wasn't sure what on my scan was supposed to be there and what (if anything) wasn't. The other thing that happened was that I had another 2 days to freak out.

Braaaaains... BRAAAAAINS!!

I finally got the call on Friday afternoon. "Everything looks completely normal." I have never in my life been so happy to be called normal. EVER. The amount of relief I felt was tantamount to nothing I'd ever experienced. And as wonderful as it felt, I so badly hope I'm never again in a situation where that amount of relief is necessary. I don't even think I knew how stressed I'd become until that point.

So the ON is still happening. I have to call up my doctor in about 6 weeks to let him know how things are going (since ON can take weeks to start clearing up and months to actually resolve). There's a small chance that I won't completely recover the sight I've lost. And there's also a small chance that I will still develop MS. But instead of dwelling on what might be, I'm trying to concentrate on what is.

I am healthy. I am happy. I have a husband who loves me. I have friends and family who will support me through whatever comes my way. I have two adorable pups that lift my spirits just by being here. I am fed, sheltered, and clothed.

Oh, and I'm headed to Disney World. :)

Life. Is. Good.

Weekend Thanks

Since next to no one is reading these anyway, I figure I'll just catch up at my own pace. Ahhh, the joys of being lazy.

Nov. 24 - On Saturday, I was thankful for...

Small businesses.

Hubby and I went Small Business Saturday shopping for the first year, and absolutely loved it. We headed up to Cedarburg (just north of Milwaukee), where we knew there was an adorable downtown shopping area that we'd been meaning to get to. We were not disappointed. 

We checked out a few stores, including a bike shop (Hubby's an addict, I swear), a toy store (where everything was made either locally or at least in the U.S.) and Penzey's (the spice place). We also got to eat lunch at a really cute pizzeria (they had Sprecher root beer on tap... YUM!!), where we got to warm up for awhile. On our way back south, we stopped at a cheese shop and got some delicious cheese* to take home (a 10-year cheddar and a really unique cheese that's sort of a combination cheddar and bleu cheese). We've eaten their cheese before, since they're always at Zoo Brew, but this was our first visit to their store. Again, we were NOT disappointed.

It was good to see people out and about supporting local businesses. We got some Christmas presents knocked off our list and managed to get a few things for ourselves. Most of all, we had a really nice day together, and for that, I'm definitely thankful.

*Maxi thought so, too. In fact, she stole some of our cheese. While we were sitting there. Little jerk.


Nov. 25 - I was thankful for...

My parents.

Growing up, I was as much of a Daddy's Girl as you could be. When I hit my pre-teens, I started fighting with my mom, and eventually pushed them both away (because they clearly had no idea what it was like to be me... or something...). Even after I graduated from high school, things were not pretty. It took me actually becoming a functioning adult to realize what an ass I'd been.

These days, I love visiting my parents. My mom is one of the most patient and loving people you'll ever meet, and my dad is a smart, funny guy. And they both love me and are proud of who I've become. I'm ultimately thankful that they never gave up on me and that they helped make me who I am now.

Football, Friends and Food

Nov. 18 - On Sunday, I was thankful for...

(Packers) Football season.

Since Hubby was gone hunting this weekend, it was just me and the puppers in the house. Once I got done with homework, there were few options for things to do. I took a nap. I played on the PS3. I read. I played with my puzzle. 

I got bored.

And then it was time for football. Hallelujah! 

Football season doesn't just get me through the day when Hubby's gone; it's a family affair at our house when he's home. The three of us (yes, that includes Maxine) wear our jerseys, grab some snacks, and curl up on the couch to cheer on the Packers whenever they play. It's one of my favorite family activities, and it even comes with its own traditions (like double high fives for touch downs, a tradition I learned from my parents). A win means a good week ahead; a loss means grumbling, outrage, and moments of panic (unless we're already doing terribly, in which case, not really any need for panic). I always hope that we'll make it to the post-season, not just for the glory, but also because it means a longer football season! :)

As long the Packers are playing, I am thankful for football season. When they aren't playing... well, there's only so many months until spring training for baseball! ;)

Nov. 19 - Yesterday, I was thankful for...

My friends.

Normally I would write a long, gushy post about how much my friends mean to me and how they're always around when I need them, blah blah blah. But instead, I'm going to keep this shorter and more to the point.

I'm thankful that my friends understand what I brat I can be, and don't hold it against me that I don't make phone calls and prefer to talk online or in person. I'm thankful that my friends make me laugh and let me cry. I'm thankful that they're as weird as I am and don't get scared off when I say something crazy. I'm thankful that my friends are all different and that I can learn so many things from each of them. 

Mostly, though, I'm thankful for who they are and how they make me feel like a better person, just by having them in my life. Thanks to you all. <3

Nov. 20 - Today I am thankful for...

Food.

If you know me, you know I love food. (You don't get this physique from not loving food.) And what's not to love? It keeps us alive, happy and (somewhat) healthy. And not everyone has access to it like I'm fortunate enough to. Too frequently I take for granted that I don't have to worry about where my next meal will come from or when I'll be able to get food again. 

Preparing food can be a lot of fun, and so can shopping for it (I always grocery shop with Hubby, and we make it fun). Going out to eat, ordering in, carrying out, or making it yourself all have different benefits and are all different ways to experience food. We have it at celebrations, we have it when mourning. It can calm our stomachs, or make us think we'll never eat again (you know, when you feel like Violet from Willy Wonka and someone damn near has to roll you out of the room). We have favorites, and we have things we won't touch with a 10-foot pole. The options are seemingly endless, and finding a perfect pairing or an unexpected new favorite makes our mouths, minds, and stomachs happy campers.

So, for all that (and more reasons, I'm sure), I am thankful for food. Om nom nom!

Working on it...

I keep trying to get caught up, but as soon as I start, something seems to come up. Here goes nothing.

Nov. 16 - On Friday, I was thankful for...

My hubby. 

Lately I seem to have been encountering more and more people my age getting divorced (hell, I even know someone who's been divorced twice already). I mean, yeah, I know it makes sense and that as I get older, even more people I know will get divorced. But it's surprising to me that it's happening at such a young age. When I was younger, I didn't even figure I'd be married yet at 28, so the thought of divorce at this age (or there about) hadn't ever crossed my mind.

I'm sure I've been over the story of me and Hubby several times already, so I'll try to summarize for y'all.

Girl meets boy in middle school and has massive crush.
Girl "dates" boy briefly at the end of high school, then forgets about him.
Girl finds boy on Facebook 3-4 years later.
Girl "dates" boy again.
Girl talks to boy's best friend, who makes her realize that things are not working with boy.
Girl breaks things off with boy.
Girl dates, and eventually marries, boy's best friend.

There, now you're caught up.

Until I met Hubby, I had a "type" that I was drawn to. Typically, I liked tall, skinny guys. Usually with bad attitudes. Usually underachievers or troublemakers. It was kind of my thing. (Note that not all of my boyfriends fit all of these, but most fit at least half. Oh, and I had a different "type" when it came to girls, too. Shorter than me, for sure. And no twigs; I didn't want to break anyone. Anyway, I digress.) So when I realized that I liked Hubby - who is the same height as me, super sweet, and not just a skeleton with skin and hair - no one was more surprised than I was. But, as people so often say, it just felt right.

With anyone else, I was constantly trying to gain approval and affection. I was always trying to be what I thought they wanted and would give everything I had to get to that point. With Hubby, it's always just been about being myself. I don't know anyone I can relax with and be silly with better than I can with him. That means more to me than just about anything.

So, yes, I'm thankful for my husband (and all the events that led me to him, even if they weren't always the most pleasant experiences). I'm thankful that he loves me, that he asked me to marry him, that we enjoy being together and that he doesn't give up on me (even when I'm a huge pain in the ass). 

I love you, Roozles. :-*

Nov. 17 - On Saturday, I was thankful for...

Good news.

Good news can make a good day better and a bad day tolerable (or close to). At the very least, at least it isn't another thing to rain on your parade. Huzzah!

On Saturday, my good news was that my Mam-maw (my dad's mom) is coming to Wisconsin for Christmas!! She's going to be at my parents' for 3 whole weeks, because (the second part of the good news) she's moving back to the state!! YAY!!! That was definitely a welcomed break in my day. :)

Trust me. If you knew my Mam-maw, you'd be excited, too. She's definitely not your typical grandma. (For that I had my mom's mom. But I won't get into that right now. Best left for another time.) This is the woman who wanted to visit a brothel (she lived in Nevada at the time, so there were some near her) just to talk with the women who worked there. This is the woman who wants to visit a psychic, who insisted she and I take an old timey photo together in Virginia City, and who isn't afraid to approach anyone at anytime (if you know me, just ask about the time we were at the mall and she got her nails polished; or about when she got her medical marijuana prescription... that one's just great).

So, yeah. Good news. Definitely thankful for it! More to come...

Our House.

Nov. 15 - Yesterday, I was thankful for...

My house.

It's certainly nothing fancy, and paying mortgage sucks, but I am so thankful for our house. When Hubby and I moved in together (early 2008), the apartment we shared never felt much like home. It was the first place I lived aside from my childhood home, school, or camp, so it was kind of a big deal for me. And while the apartment was nice and we were glad to be living together, it just never really clicked.

In 2009, Hubby started talking about wanting a house, and how it was a good time to buy. I wasn't sure I was ready for all of that, and had to do a lot of thinking. While on a trip with my sisters in August of that year, I decided that we should give it a shot. I bought Hubby a sign for the garage our house would have and gave that to him to show I was ready.

We found probably 60 houses online that were contenders. Research got rid of some and others were off the market before we could blink. Of those left, we drove past at least half, which whittled the list down some more. We visited probably 10-15 houses and had it narrowed down to two. The other one we were considering was a lot like the house I grew up in; ranch style, 3-4 bedrooms, hallways, a big yard... It really was a great house, and I hope whoever bought it is just as thankful for it as we are for this house. 

This house won out for a whole lot of reasons (and also fell short for a few reasons, too; 1 tiny bathroom without an exhaust fan... 'nuff said), but there are 3 reasons I know pushed it over the top.

First, the garage. Hubby works on cars, and having a garage was a big reason for buying a house. Our garage is 2.5 cars and has all sorts of room for stuff. There's even this crazy attic thing! We don't use it, but it's kind of cool. 

Next, the kitchen. Like most apartments, ours had a galley kitchen; it was small and narrow and hard to maneuver. Our kitchen in the house is really open, with lots of space to move around and store things (though, I can always use more storage space). There wasn't a dishwasher, but my parents got us a portable one that works just fine. And my dad installed a garbage disposal for us, which is awesome. 

The third reason is two floors (plus a basement). The upstairs is small, since it's just an attic space that got converted into bedrooms, but that's enough. I knew that if I was going to be studying and working at home, I would need to be able to send Hubby somewhere in the house where he wasn't a distraction. So, my workspace is here on the main floor, and his computer room is upstairs where he can game and drool over cars without me having to give him an evil glare. It works out best for us both.

I love a lot of other things about the house, too. I mean, without it, we couldn't have gotten Maxine (our apartment didn't allow dogs). And though it's split into two parts, we have a long backyard with a couple spots for gardens. And I love our big, open living room (which is also my workspace and our dining area). 

We closed on the house on Oct. 2, 2009 and have been living here since mid-October of that year. It's hard to believe we've been here for 3 years, but we always agree that it's also hard to remember a time before this. The apartment feels like a distant memory, and forget about when we both used to live at home! This is where Hubby proposed to me, and where our married life began; it's where we became a family, just us and Maxi. It's our home. And for that, I'm thankful. 

Riki's History Part 5: Living & Loving

I won't pretend that things were smooth sailing after the "Shane" incident.  I dated a few guys (using the term "dated" pretty loosely here) between fall 2005 and summer 2006.  Remember the old friend from my middle school days who would later introduce me to my husband?  Yeah, I was "dating" him when I met Hubby for the first time (six years ago this month... wow!). 

Hubby and I started dating in September of that year, and things were (usually) great.  He treated me like a queen, and I loved every second of it.  In early 2008, we got an apartment together, about an hour and a half away from where I had grown up and lived for my entire life.  I had very few friends out here, and Hubby had lots of them.  I would get lonely, feel unwanted, and cry.  It sort of sucked.

There was one time when I dropped the box of mac and cheese I'd been planning to make on the kitchen floor.  I started yelling and swearing, saying dinner was ruined and I had fucked it all up.  Much as he tried, Hubby couldn't convince me otherwise.  I wound up sobbing on the kitchen floor for awhile.  Same thing happened when a vase broke.  These are normal occurrences, but I was completely incapable of handling them normally.

In late July, I decided it was time to try the meds again.  I contacted my doctor (who is quite possibly the most understanding and least judgmental doctor I've ever met) and she put me back on Fluoxetine.  I started taking it again beginning in August, and I was already feeling happier just knowing that things would get better soon. 

Then came The Break-Up.  (Dun, dun, dunnnnnn.)

In August, Hubby and I were planning a camping trip, so I had worked "summer hours" that week (9-hour days Mon-Thurs, half day Friday) so we could get a head start.  Instead of trying to recall all of this, I'm going to copy/paste from my journal entry a few days after it happened.

We packed, we had lunch, we packed some more... He seemed a bit strange, but I wrote it off as lack of sleep combined with 3 cups of coffee in less than 3 hours (he stayed up late to play video games and drank a lot of coffee at work just for fun).

Then, when I asked him if he was OK again (I'd already asked, and his arm hurt, so I'd given him some ibuprofen), he said he had a lot going on in his mind. He seemed serious, so I took his hands and encouraged him to talk... He started with some stuff about how there was a lot of talk about marriage lately... and apparently he decided that he really couldn't see marrying me. I told him I wasn't looking to get married right now or anything, and we talked a bit more.

I asked at one point if he still loved me, and he took a long pause. Then he said, "I guess my silence sort of answered that..." He didn't say it in a mean way, just said it. I remained as calm and collected as I could, and continued talking to him about how we could work on things. He would say things that I found encouraging, that I thought meant we could work through it. Things about if we had hobbies together (I had recently told him I'd be happy to come out and hang with him while he worked on the car, and reiterated this, and agreed that I'd even try getting my hands dirty in the process), or if I had friends to hang with (I told him I could try being friends with [insert she-who-will-not-be-named here], and that once the meds kicked in, that I could look for a new job and have new coworkers to hang with)...

But all in all, he just wasn't sure he loved me anymore. He'd had doubts for weeks, he said. Did he still care about me? Yes. Deeply. He even said he "likes me a lot". At some point I started crying a bit, but was still trying to reason with him. Neither of us knew what to do. I told him that the logical thing might be to see if things get better with the meds, you know? But, there's nothing logical about love.

And so, I began to pack. He helped for awhile, but I couldn't stop myself from crying and saying the stupidest things. Things like, "I can't believe you went on vacation with me and didn't love me!" and "I just want you to love me again..." Lines that happen in a bad book or movie, but I just couldn't help it."

It was the worst pain I've experienced yet, and thankfully my sisters were there for me and I flew out to Las Vegas for a few days to recover. 

In my opinion, that break turned out to be one of the best things that happened to our relationship.  I got to spend some time back in my hometown, reassuring myself that I wasn't completely dependent on him, and finding that my meds were making things I normally couldn't do seem much more possible.  His time away from me made him realize that he truly did love me, depression/anxiety/insanity and all.  We were back together soon, and have been together since. 

As of this post, I'm on 40 MG of fluoxetine and 150 MG of bupropion (generic Wellbutrin), and I'm doing really well.  I used to think that being on anti-depressants meant I was dependent on them, and I hated that thought.  My mom put that into perspective for me.  She asked me, "Well, are you dependent on your glasses to see?"

"Uh, yeah..."

"The glasses don't change your eyes, they just make it easier to see.  The pills do the same thing.  They don't change who you are, they just make it easier to be you."

I still have my moments, and some days are harder than others, but it's mostly within the realm of normal emotions.  When I get sad, it's usually because something sad has happened instead of just out of the blue.  When I get frustrated, I don't yell and swear as much anymore.  And when I do have a particularly bad moment, I use some of the techniques I learned back in my days of therapy and some other relaxation methods.  I'm a nicer person to be around overall.

I've been back in school since August 2009, and am on track to get my BA in Psychology (go figure, right?).  I'm married to a wonderful man, and have a great house and an adorable dog.  I have friends who love me and family who always has my back.  I even have a hobby that I'm passionate about (photography is the most therapeutic thing I do)! 

A lot of people have contributed to my happiness and well-being.  I don't have the time or space to thank them all individually, but more than likely, you know who you are.  Thank you.  From the very bottom of my heart... Thank you.

The bottom line is something like this: Depression (and other mental illnesses) sucks.  It's trying for you and everyone around you, and some days (many days... sometimes every day) it feels like nothing will ever get better. 

It will. 

If you give it time, it will.  If you work at it, it will.  If you allow your friends and family to help you, it will.  If you find goals you want to achieve, it will.  And eventually, those days will become rarities, and when you slip back into old ways of thinking, just remember that it did get better.  And it will again.  Don't give up.

 

Labor (Free) Day Weekend

I mean, really.  It's called Labor Day, but the whole point is to take a break from said labor.  So why not Labor Free Day?  

Anywhoozles, it's been awhile, so here I am to tell you all about my lame-ass weekend.  Huzzah!!

I should start by telling you that Hubby has been on vacation since last Wednesday night.  Ugh.  I dropped him off at the airport around 4 and have been missing him since.  It's a good thing I have Miss Maxine, or I might've lost it.

So I made it through to Friday night somehow, and then headed to my parents' for the weekend.  I waited until 7 to leave so I could avoid the horrendous holiday weekend traffic, and was pretty successful.  There were still some assholes out, but that's pretty standard fare.  The puppers and I made it to our destination right around 8:20 and Mom and Dad were having dinner.  I got to sit down and have some bacon-wrapped filet (nom nom nom) and unwind from the drive.  (Yes, I know it's not a long trip, but when you're not used to driving, and you're alone except for a dog who'd rather stick her head out the window than sit next to you, it FEELS like a long trip.)

We watched the Brewers game together (well, Mom and I did anyway; Dad went to bed to watch) and then said goodnight.  The pups and I headed downstairs to our bedroom for the evening and watched some TV.  The next morning I was up too early for my liking, but got up and got started on homework.  Mom and I went grocery shopping around eleven, which was a nice break in my day.  I actually think I saw some people I knew from my CBH days, which was kind of random.  Mom asked if I wanted to say hi, but I declined.  

After that it was back to homework before Mom and Dad's friends D and M came over for cocktails and dinner.  Dad decided it was cool enough downstairs for a fire in the fireplace (according to the thermostat, it was only 63 degrees).  Despite the generation gap between myself and the four of them, we always seem to have a good time together, and Saturday was no exception.  I fixed myself a Captain & OJ and enjoyed the fire, talked some sports, and played with my pup.  Mom made a fantastic spaghetti dinner (enough to feed a mid-sized army) and the night wound down.

Sunday morning I finished up the last of the week's homework before we headed out to the Taste of Madison.  Apparently, it's entirely possible that I haven't missed a year of The Taste in my entire life (as Mom confirmed they took me with the year I was born, and I can't recall a year when I didn't go), which is pretty awesome.  Normally I stuff myself silly when I'm there, but without Hubby, I just wasn't feeling like myself.  I did, however, manage to enjoy a delicious churro from Caracas Empanadas, my favorite pumpkin spice cheesecake from Grace Cheesecakes and a really tasty steak fajita in a teeny tiny tortilla from Abuelo's. 

The afternoon called for a nap, and the puppers happily joined me.  Later, we spent the afternoon out on the front porch (or as K and I call it, Kentucky) talking and drinking and listening to music.  Dinner was leftover spaghetti, and I made a delicious spaghetti sandwich on a bun.  Mmmmm...

Monday was a lazy morning.  Not much to do but sit around and watch TV.  Eventually Mom and I headed to my aunt's house for some wine tasting.  It was a girls only event: my mom, mom's two sisters (my aunts), mom's sister-in-law (another aunt), and my cousin were all there.  We tried wines and played Apples to Apples (which is a family favorite, but I'll save that story for another time) and I had to get between my mom and one of her sisters when a political discussion got a little too heated for my liking.  (Let's just say it's not easy to piss my mother off, but God help you if you do.)

Of the wines, I liked the two whites the best (of course), and the dessert wine.  Evidently, I was the only one who liked the dessert wine (it was REALLY sweet - they said that like it was a bad thing!), so I got to take the rest of the bottle home.  When Mom and I got back to the house, Dad was out on the porch with some of our neighbors, so we sat down and joined them.  Dinner was, of course, more spaghetti leftovers (it's a good thing I love my mom's cooking so much).  And right after dinner, the pups and I made our trek back home.It wasn't an overly exciting weekend, but it was nice not to have to spend the whole weekend alone at the house.  

On a very happy note, Hubby will be home tonight!  YAY!!!!!  I can't wait to see him.  I hate when he's gone, and this was a LONG trip for him to be away. :-(  But, I survived.  That's gotta count for something.