New year, new resolutions

With New Year’s Day just around the corner, I thought today would be as good of time as any to write a New Year’s resolution blog.

I don’t always make New Year’s resolutions. And usually when I do they are so far fetched that I have given up on them before I even get my Christmas tree down.

This year I’ve decided to take a different approach. I reminded myself that my New Year’s resolutions are not a list of things I need to do to become a perfect person. My resolutions should be a list of things I’m committed to doing in 2012. I thought about the things I want to do and habits that would help me be a healthier, well rounded person. Without further ado here are my 2012 New Year’s resolutions.

In 2012 I Arley Elizabeth resolve to:

• Do yoga once a week.

• Take Gunther on daily walks. I feel kind of embarrassed to admit that I don’t do this already, but with a doggy door and fenced in yard it’s pretty easy to be a lazy pet owner.

• Floss. This will likely be the hardest for me to keep. I don’t know what it is about flossing that makes the activity so difficult. But I’ve heard flossing daily can add seven years to your life so I’m going to take this seriously this year.

• Pray regularly and intentionally. Outside of the prayers I recite in church, my prayer life seems to consist of, “God, please help me,” “Lord you can’t be serious?!” and “Thank you Jesus for this food.” I really want to cultivate a deeper prayer life in 2012.

• Stop worrying about what people think about me. Not in a arrogant conceded Lebron James kind of way, but in a healthy, self-aware Tina Fey kind of way.

Well, those are my resolutions. Let’s hope I am able to keep them at least as long as I keep my Christmas tree up. (Which will likely be mid-January). Happy New Year!

*Read my blogs, stories and more at herkansascity.com.

Christmas tree finds triumph amidst tree stand tragedy

How many people does it take to put up a Christmas tree in my house? Apparently, four adults, one tween and a teenager who works at the local hardware store.

Logan and I attempted to put up our tree last week which proved to be a difficult task. The tree was a leaner, but the pickings are slim when you get your tree half-way through December. I could deal with the leaning, but no matter how much Logan and I tried to situate the tree we couldn’t secure the screws in it’s bark.

“Maybe the the guy cut the stump too short,” I proposed, shifting the blame.

By the time we finally got the tree up, and seemingly secure, I decided to call it a night and put the ornaments on the next day. Unfortunately, I woke up the next morning to find the tree on the floor. I tried to put it up myself but failed.

My friend Edmee’s middle-school aged son walks to our house after school sometimes because his school is so close to our house.I thought he could help me get the tree up that afternoon. I had found another tree stand in the basement that I thought might work better with the tree’s short stump.

I didn’t have any luck with Edmee’s son Kaelum. When Edmee and her husband Ryan came to pick Kaelum up, the five of us were unsuccessful as well. It turned out that the first tree stand was indeed too tall and the second stand was broken. Apparently, I had blocked last year’s broken tree stand incident out of my mind.

In order to get the tree to stand I had to visit Cottins, the hardware store a few blocks away. I grudgingly grabbed my purse and drove to Cottins. Why does putting up a Christmas tree have to be so difficult? Just another item to add to the long list of things I dislike about the holidays.

I don’t want to be a Scrooge, but every time December roles I around “bah humbug,” seems to run through my mind. I love to shop, decorate and hangout with my family, so it seems a given that I would love Christmas. But something about Christmas feels too hectic and contrived. Christmas forces us to do things that I think we should do all year round- give gifts, help the poor, spend time with family and celebrate faith. Sometimes with all hustle and bustle of going from one family gathering to the next, it seems like the meaning of the holiday gets lost.

I came home from the hardware store praying that I would get the tree up and get through the holiday with a little more cheer and a little less drear. It turns out my tree issue and attitude problem required the same solution, finding a good stand. Once I got the right stand for my Christmas tree, I got the tree up in less than 10 minutes. As I type I can see the tree with its pretty lights and decorations.

My attitude shifted when I remembered the stand that holds me together is bigger than any of the things that cause my anxiety, stress and bitchiness. At Christmas time we celebrate the idea that the creator of the universe came came to the Earth in the form of a Jewish baby boy to share a message of hope, love and redemption. And I believe that same eight pound, six ounce, newborn baby Jesus continues to offer us hope, love and redemption. And his hope is the base that keeps me standing through the holiday season and throughout the year.

*Read my blogs, stories and more at herkansascity.com.

Gunther and me

My husband Logan and I take our 10-year-old Jack Russell Terrier everywhere. He has been to more states than most 10-year-old children.

Gunther goes with us on road trips to see concerts, on family vacations, and as strange as it sounds we even took him with us to Leadville, Colo. for our honeymoon. Gunther loves Colorado and when Logan planned the trip to stay in a cabin in the mountains it was just too hard to leave him behind. And I worried he might bite my
cousin who graciously offered to house sit.

Oh, yeah, Gunther isn’t the sweet cuddly little dog you may have pictured. He’s a feisty little biter. Piss him off and there will be consequences.

When Logan was in college he thought it would be cool to buy a little dog that could live with him in his apartment. He drove to a small town in Missouri to purchase little Gunther, the runt of the litter. But once they got home Gunther became the king dog of every place Logan lived. Through 7 years of schooling, Logan had several roommates.

All of these roommates have stories about Gunther. Along with being a biter, in his defense I’ll say he’s more of a nipper, Gunth also makes statements with his poop. Make him mad and he will poop on your bed. This happened to multiple roommates. Not surprisingly, Logan moved back home to live with his mom the last year of pharmacy school. While he never pooped on my mother-in-law’s bed, Gunther’s ankle biting did ruin several pairs of business pants, which she holds against the dog to this day.

When Logan and I met, Gunther had just been diagnosed with diabetes. We believe it is type 2, since he had been living on a college student’s diet for the first six years of his life. I still remember the first time I came to Logan’s house. (He no longer had roommates. Gunther had officially scared them all away.)

“He’s so cute,” I said as I bent down to pet him.

Gunther looked sweet and passive, he was clearly still in recovery from his in-patient stay at the vet.

“Oh, you’ll think otherwise soon,” Logan said with a laugh.

I wondered what he meant by that. I found out the first time Logan cooked me dinner. Gunther barked for the duration of the cooking and eating of the meal.

Because of Gunther’s diabetes, Logan and I both assumed the little guy would die before we ever would move in together or get married.

Gunter proved to be a fighter. It seems that nothing can kill him. In the last four years he’s survived diabetes, pancreatitis, kidney stones, and a 15-foot drop off the balcony at the Super 8 motel in Goodland, Kan. (That story could be a blog in its self).

Gunther had issues with me when the three of us moved into a house together after Logan and I got engaged. Apparently, Gunther didn’t want a new house or a step mom.

We give Gunther insulin shots twice a day. A couple weeks after we moved in Gunther bit my hand after I gave him a shot. The bite left teeth marks and a throbbing pain in my tendons. I cried in the pantry for five minutes before I headed to work.

Once, when Logan and I invited a couple and their newborn baby over, Gunther didn’t like the attention that Logan gave the baby. And to this day, I believe Gunther blamed me. The next morning I slipped on a pile of poop Gunther had left on the floor by my side of the bed.

But for all his faults, Gunther has become my little buddy these past six months. When I got laid off from my job at the Kansas City Nursing News, Gunther sensed my pain. He would cuddle up with me, lick my arm and let me know is his doggy way that everything would be okay.

Last week, when Logan and I headed out for a get-a-away to warmer weather we decided to leave Gunther at the vet. This was the first time we have ever boarded him and the decision was heavy on our hearts.

I bought new toys for Gunther to take on his “trip” and since I worried he might not eat as well without us, I actually browned a pound of lean hamburger meat to send with his dog food. As I cooked the meat, I realized this was probably the equivalent of a mother who peels her third-graders grapes before she pack her kid’s lunch. But knowing my behavior is slightly neurotic, makes it somewhat okay, at least in my mind.

All the way to the vet, I kept thinking about all the people who would say it’s always harder on the owners than the pets when it comes to dropping them off to board for the first time. Well, I don’t believe that’s true. If I did I wouldn’t feel so bad. I mean, Logan and I will be relaxing on vacation, while poor Gunther will be at the vet.
When we finally left vet, Logan and I both turned to watch Gunther walk through the door, he pranced through like a champ. Way too proud to show fear, if indeed he had any.

Logan and I held each other’s hand as we walked to the car and I realized at that moment that sometime in the last six months Gunther had went from being Logan’s dog, to our dog. We are a happy family of three, feistiness and all.