Trust your gut!
My beautiful Mom holding my precious first born!
As an unmarried and brand new Mother myself once, a very long time ago, my own Mom shared some invaluable words of advice, that have guided my path ever since. They were.....”trust your gut, and let your instincts guide you!” At the time she told it to me, it was regarding my precious newborn baby girl, who was, inconsolably colicky, and wanted to be held ALL THE TIME! There were many well-meaning friends, family members, pediatricians, etc... who were all happy to dispense their words of wisdom, possible reasons, possible solutions, ad nauseum...and then there was me, trying to do the best job I could! We survived, and actually, 29+ years, later have thrived! It would be dishonest for me to say, there haven’t been a thousand times when I wished my Mom might have shared that advice with me sooner....a lot sooner? But then I wouldn’t be here now, writing this, with two adult children (my greatest blessings), a son-in-law, brother-in-law, nephews, a stepdaughter, extended family, friends, life lessons I never expected but have been both blessed, and burdened, to experience and always ready for what may be ahead! I often wonder if she might not have told me sooner, because not even she, knew sooner?
Trust… and New York; making the most of a snow delay.
Anyways, that gut instinct thing is REAL! It’s helped to lead me, and guide my steps, on what has been a twisted, complicated, often exciting, hugely blessed, sometimes painful, difficult and sad , but almost always hopeful path. My sweet baby girl got over her colic, with some amazing support and help from my older sister, Emily’s Godmother, and her wonderful husband and sons, plus some extra creativity that included pushing her back and forth in her “pram” next to the trash compactor, or setting her in her little infant seat on top of the drying machine in our laundry room, (turns out the noise and motion made it better) but I also found that just holding her and dancing around the house for hours to country music did the trick too. While the colic is long, long gone, the dancing around the house continues.....@faithhill “You Can’t Lose Me, was and will always remain our song.
Listen to your instincts. P.S., raising little boys is exponentially different than raising little girls!
Several years later, when her brother, A.J. arrived, it was an entirely different ballgame! While Emily had always wanted to be up, and in the thick of everything, and could completely outlast me during any trip, bedtime, party, etc.... A.J. was a completely different, and his own special being. He was happy to go down for a nap every morning, went to bed easily at 7:00 each evening, and would far prefer to stay home, explore the great outdoors, play with bugs, and climb trees, rather than EVER make a trip over the The Pass (Hwy 154) to go to Santa Barbara, out to lunch or whatever the reason might have been for the outing. He adored “Barney” (yes, the big purple dude) and we had two CD’s in the car, at the ready, for the ride back home! He could go from screaming to quiet at the mere start and sound of Barney’s oddly comforting voice; but you had to choose your timing carefully, because it only worked for about 15 minutes!
Yes… absolutely, I took to sitting in the “playpen” with A.J. ~ Far safer than any alternative.
A.J. was also capable of finding an accident around every corner, and by the age of four, we probably should have had a room in Cottage Hospital’s E.R. Wing named for him. From the first occasion at around seven months, when he catapulted himself from his playpen onto the tile patio resulting in a concussion…to the second, and third time in less than two years while running down our limestone covered, lengthy hallway, going forward at “Mach 10, light speed, while looking backwards and not just falling, but sliding into the next room, resulting in the same, exact split in his chin, requiring stitches (both times), and, unfortunately, dozens of other times over the years, he has had a “frequent user pass” to several emergency rooms in multiple states!
That long treacherous hallway of our Roblar home made for something of a “toddler deathtrap” at the time?
But, back to trusting instincts.... the first time A.J. took that tumble down our limestone hallway, I knew he needed stitches, but was home alone with the kids; Emily was seven, and A.J. at only 2, was screaming, while bleeding like a garden hose turned on high; I couldn’t very well drive while holding him and the ice-filled towel on his chin? Al was at The Alisal playing tennis, (his usual afternoon routine), and wasn’t picking up his cell, so I called our sweet neighbor, Kathy, who (thankfully was home) and volunteered to drive me, poor, bleeding and crying A.J. and a terrified Emily to the emergency room. Bless her heart....she even stayed with Emily in the waiting area, while I took A.J. in the tiny cubicle, where they were going to stitch him up! We were well past the “bundling like a burrito” (direct quote from the very young ER doctor’s mouth) and into the stitching, when Al arrived, having finished with his tennis match and after listening to my voice message. There’s absolutelyno mistaking Al’s voice, particularly when agitated, and I knew the moment he entered that tiny little wing of the hospital. In an instant, Al was in the cubicle, and the combination of seeing A.J. wrapped in a sheet, sobbing and still bleeding, with me doing my best to hold and comfort him while the damn young doctor moved painstakingly slow to sew the gaping chin, and boom, Al SNAPPED; he demanded the doctor finish the stitch, and get the hell out of the room, which he did! Al directed me to unwrap A.J. while he got discharge papers, so we could leave. He quickly dismissed Kathy, our sweet neighbor, who was still sitting and waiting with Emily, and ordered us to the car.....a convertible, two seater 450SL Mercedes. I know that doesn’t seem like a great idea, and it wasn’t, but that’s exactly what we did, because Al wouldn’t contemplate anything else.
Needless to say…Limestone floors quickly became my least favorite surface ever!
Fast forward, almost exactly one year later; and “deja vu” with the exception that my Mom was staying with us for a few days, and could do the driving for me this time; Al was, again, playing tennis, but this time at our home court playing doubles with a couple of guys. I had A.J. sitting on the kitchen counter with a towel and ice, and had asked Emily to run down to tell Al what had happened and where we were going; I was waiting for Emily to come back so we could leave, but it was BOTH Al and Emily who entered the house. I started relaying my plan, when Al quickly “shushed” me to walk over and inspect A.J.’s bleeding face. He looked at the bloody messy chin, took in the situation and said, “we were all overreacting, it was hardly anything, and I wasn’t going anywhere. Al would just “do a butterfly bandage” and it would all be fine!” I tried to explain and show Al that it looked like there was more than just blood leaking from the chin, maybe tissue or something equally awful, but again, Al said I was being hysterical like a “typical woman.” He bandaged him up, went back to the tennis court, and my Mom, Emily and I just sat there; holding and comforting A.J., while I knew each of us were struggling with an equal mixture of anger and fear. I gave A.J. a hearty dose of Tylenol, he fell asleep, we ate dinner with very little conversation, and it was an early evening for all of us. The next morning, Al had some appointment with a lawyer in town, so I prepped my Mom, who got Emily dressed and fixed them each a quick bit of breakfast, while I dressed A.J. and called our Pediatrician to say we were on our way. Dr. Breter took one look at A.J.’s now un-bandaged chin, and basically asked me “what in the hell was I thinking? There was ‘tissue matter’ escaping from the wound and A.J. ABSOLUTELY needed stitches?” I’m not sure who was crying more then.....A.J. or me? I knew stitches had been needed the night before, but had gone against my “gut instinct” and listened to my husband! What’s worse and furthermore, now we would have to take A.J. to the Plastic Surgeon, because the chin needed to be reopened and stitched precisely! Thank heavens my Mom and Emily were there; they both did their best, alternating between calming me and trying to distract A.J. who by that point understood very clearly what was about to happen. If you’re one of those people like me, who always tries to find a “silver lining,” it was that Dr. Breter’s pick of surgeons would see us immediately, and gave A.J. a nice big shot of something that made the whole procedure much easier than the ER visit the year before. He also gave me something to give A.J. later in the day so he could get a good, long night of sleep. I never called or told Al a single thing all day until we got home. Once I knew A.J. was asleep, with my Mom and Emily in the guest house and out of earshot, I spoke to Al, with a fierceness I didn’t even know I possessed, much less expressed before! Regardless, with all of that aside, Al just stood there, looking at, or through, me, and said “I was overreacting...again! All boys need a good scar or two!”
Who knew all those years earlier what would be awaiting? Game Day Ready, and Roll Tide Roll.
Many years later, on one of my many trips to Tuscaloosa during the first semester of A.J.’s Freshman year of college, having discovered how much work and intervention would be needed to ensure A.J.’s academic survival and I, again, felt that familiar stirring in my gut. I took “the bull by the horns” and just kept pushing and persisting, determined that A.J. was going to succeed! We flew to Florida to meet with the educational psychologist who had originally diagnosed and tested A.J. for his “umbrella of dyslexia diagnoses, and agreed to administer all new tests and re-access where A.J. was at that time? That assessment would determine how many special accommodations A.J. would need to receive? With that knowledge quantified, A.J. would finally be in a position to receive all the mandatory aid that the University was required to provide. We secured a fabulous tutor (Chris, owner of The Tutor Doctor, “a total Godsend”...should you be in T-Town and need a great tutor), and between Chris, Dr. Sisbard, University of Alabama’s Academic Resource Center, PJ, and the specific tutors hired, we, successfully, put an entire program of support into motion. It was Friday, November 13, 2015, and as I sat in my hotel room at The Hotel Capstone (best place to stay in T-Town) I was watching the news and hearing of the horrific bombing and terrorist attacks that were happening in Paris. I couldn’t help but feel worried, concerned and more than a bit anxious about my scheduled flight home on Monday. The next morning came and went, but by the time I met A.J. and a couple of his buddies for tailgating before the afternoon football game, I had already called to cancel my flight on Monday and was formulating an alternate plan for my trip back home to California. That whole “trust your gut” thing had taken over again.
Emily and Alex we’re home “holding down the fort,” keeping all the horses, dogs, and wide assortment of other animals that now called Rancho Valiente their refuge, in good shape. I knew when I told them what I had in mind, that they both, along with A.J., Viv and her entire family thought I had “lost it,” but I didn’t care.....the feeling deep inside was strong, and I was going to honor it! Call me crazy, but first thing Monday morning, I got a car, and planned my drive. So, with that “small detail” on my travel list checked off, next came the kind of crazy part..... and yes, it’s possible that it could get crazier!
Travel companions take many forms…
I learned during the first couple years of my sordid divorce process, that driving cross country was 100% doable, and I had already done it three times… twice with Emily, and once by myself. I had also knew that some form of company (be it human or animal) was essential for my sanity! The first time I had done the drive solo, I started from Sea Island, Georgia headed south to Jacksonville, stopped at Bruno Motors to make sure my G-Wagon was prepped and ready to make the drive, and then headed west. I don’t like to drive, or actually can’t really SEE at night, and so I stop when and where I feel like it, plus my vehicles automatically know each and every Starbucks along the way. Coffee is a must while making a cross country jaunt and every other day too; most Starbucks usually have clean, well-kept bathroom facilities, and usually I could find a green juice in addition to a ‘not-entirely fast food’ snack there too.....total no-brainer! It does, however, usually add a bit of extra time to my trips. At that point though, in the midst of all the craziness…who cares about an extra day? One of my stops on that particular trip occurred in Slidell, Louisiana, which just so happened to have a pet store in the same strip center as the Starbucks I had found that morning. Curiously, and just because that’s who I am, I ventured into the pet store, and immediately saw a line of aquarium tanks flanking the wall in front of me. My niece Belle had fallen in love with A.J.’s Red Slider turtle ‘Squirt,’ (that we must have had for four years by then) and wanted one for her own, but they are, or were, a tough commodity to find in California at the time. As “luck” would have it, there was an aquarium full of them right there in front of me. So I quickly went up, and down the aisles to find a small, portable travel tank, required water conditioner, and a small canister of turtle food before asking the clerk to fish one out of the tank for me. Boom...twenty minutes later, I was back on the road, with the turtle carefully secured on the front seat floor next to me, wedged between the assorted tote bags and all of my smaller, travel necessities. I decided that in honor of “us two ladies” making this road trip together, she would be the Louise to my Thelma, and we made the rest of the trip without a hitch.
This particular “Shotgun Rider” was one special chick!
PJ’s Freshman year, and many Alabama trips, would prove no exception to my list of travel adventures, and introduced, yet another new “lady” into our lives. As I started to detail earlier, Friday, November 13, 2015 arrived and once I knew A.J. was well set up, with me scheduled to return home the next Monday, I sat in the hotel watching the Paris bombings and terrorist attacks on the news. Not only did I feel incredible sadness, but I also felt that “stirring of instinct in my gut!” I called Emily and said I wouldn’t be flying home on Monday…I had a bad feeling, and had already cancelled my flight. I found a vehicle, and curiously, A.J. had found a local Tuscaloosa newspaper or Craigslist listing, (actually, I’m not entirely sure where) for a five year old, female, Red Merle Australian Shepherd that some guy was looking to re-home. After talking on the phone with the dog’s owner, we learned that the man had raised her from a puppy, she had acccompanied him on his two-year stint living in Costa Rica, where he had trained her to do all sorts of tricks. The next logical question out of our mouths was obvious....”why are you placing her after all this time? He didn’t skip a beat when he answered, because I’ve gotten very into raising and selling micro-mini breeds like Yorkies, Chihuahua’s, and Poodles, and he wanted “Miss Macy Gray” (yes, that was her name) to live a more normal, “real-dog life.“ Apparently, she had been in a movie or two, several commercials, and was accustomed to gads of attention; he didn’t feel like it was fair for her to share his devotion with the squad of “littles” that now occupied his time and home. Both A.J. and I were intrigued. Because A.J. had no more classes that day, and I wanted to get an early start the next morning, we decided to make a quick doggie excursion. If “Miss Macy Gray” was anything like Stella (my Aussie) at home, I was excited to meet her, enjoy her company on the drive home, and felt like she’d be a cool addition to our crazy menagerie! We made the “short” (according to Jason, Macy’s owner) drive from T-Town to Ft. Payne, Alabama, which ended up being five hours round trip, in addition to the “animated and interesting” visit with Jason that took at least an hour and a half long. There was nothing short or quick about any of it, but we did it nonetheless, and found ourselves back in the parking lot of The Hotel Capstone around 11:30 pm! Jason hadn’t been kidding....Miss Macy Gray was wicked smart, knew how to ride a skateboard (which he directed her to demonstrate for us during our visit); she also knew every basic, and advanced, canine instruction, would also jump from chair to chair on command, knew how to jump through a hula-hoop, and had been taught, for one of her movie credits to jump at and knock over a pretend shotgun that was being pointed at someone from “a bad guy!” I promise, no one could make this stuff up! Anyways, A.J. snuck her into his dorm apartment the first night, as The Capstone does not allow dogs....period. The two of them survived the night and met me Tuesday morning in The Capstone parking lot at 9:00 am, where I already had the Jeep loaded and ready to go. A.J. and I hugged, said our goodbyes, and Miss Macy Gray “loaded up” in the only available space left in the Jeep, the passenger seat directly next to me! Off we went. It was two whole blocks before I decided I better pull into the local Publix to pick up some dog food, a couple dishes, a couple of six packs of the large Evian water bottles, and a rawhide or toy for Macy Grey. After all, who knew where, or how far, we might get that day? I already had my route planned, with help from Emily and Alex at home as my “on-call tech support.” They turned out to be invaluable, as by the time we made it to Monroe, Louisiana, it was pouring rain...I’m talking about the kind of torrential downpour that is famous in the South, and those Jeep windshield wipers were failing their job as a formidable opponent to battle Monroe’s angry weather. I went into the lobby, checked with the desk clerk and found that the only room left (thank heavens for my Emily tech support) was the one she had called and arranged at the hotel closest to the off ramp…done, and done! It didn’t “necessarily” take dogs, but it was dark by then, still pouring, and I had a room with an exterior entrance, so we were good for the night! Turns out, Jason REALLY wasn’t kidding....Macy Gray (I had officially dropped the “Miss” part by then) was a well-seasoned traveler, and by noon the next day, you’d have thought she’d been mine for her entire life. She never left my side, didn’t require a leash, did exactly what she was told when she was told to do it, and was superb company.....plus never once did we get in any kind of argument (always a valid reason to keep a dog as the best company).
My drive began, “middled,” and ended with rain…
By the time we made it to The La Quinta Resort in Palm Desert, she was so bonded to me, she could look at my face, or a simple move of my hand, and knew whether to sit, lay down, load up; on top of that, she was protective too. Not every stop on a drive of that magnitude can be at a “cute” or even tolerable place, and there was one pretty nasty truck stop in New Mexico, where my only option to fuel up presented itself. I had put the drivers side window down while filling the gas tank, and while I stood waiting for the pump to turn off, a dirty, deranged, and crazy-looking, ranting man approached my side of the Jeep. He barely made it within six feet of the car before Macy Gray was standing with her two front legs on the front window sill growling; just a low, solid, continuous “Rrrrr,” with her mouth opened to show a healthy set of white teeth absolutely ready to bite into whatever might come next. He took one look at her, and spun around on a dime, but I know she’d have been all over him like a cheap suit, had he taken one more step towards me!
Truth be told listening to the whole “gut instinct” that time, turned out to be both “costly,” and lengthy, but a great blessing too. That particular gut instinct brought Macy Gray into our lives; and, wait for it.....turns out the flight I had originally been booked on from Atlanta to Los Angeles that “suspect” Monday was cancelled, and many other flights that same day delayed too, due to a bomb threat! Boom....mic drop, enough said!
Miss Macy Gray, wonder dog, great pal and my “shotgun rider!”
Two years ago, A.J. was home for Christmas break, and over the course of three weeks, we had already made two E.R. visits, as well as a visit to a medical specialist. He was feeling emotionally down as well as physically ill, and the night before he was set to leave for his drive back to Tuscaloosa, I got one of those gut feelings again, and asked A.J. if the company of Macy Gray would make the drive back to Alabama and his next semester easier? Macy, easily, loved PJ as much as she did me, and I could sense his depression was more than just a passing moment; it made me nervous. I was anxious about him, his well-being and the drive back to Alabama, as well as the next several weeks, while he recovered from his physical ailments. It might have been one of the two times during that whole Christmas vacation when his face and spirit actually lit up. I caught a brief glimpse of the son I knew, and adored; I’d have done anything to keep that boy and his spark shining.
“Every boy deserves two things: a dog, and a mother willing to let him have one!”
That was January 3 of 2018, and Macy hasn’t been back home with me since...she is an official resident of Tuscaloosa! PJ’s room at home has always had a sign that I bought him as a child, which reads.... ‘Every boy deserves two things; a dog, and a Mother willing to let him have one.” It makes me happy and relieved to know he has that added measure of comfort in his life, and I’ll always be grateful for the gut instinct that brought Macy Gray into our life!
My favorite book to read as a teenager was Gone With The Wind, and my grandfather, Pa, used to tease me saying “it took Rhett Butler fifteen pages just to cross a crick!” I guess I can be a tad verbose too, but I‘m also going to guess there are worse things I could be called, right?
Anyways.....moral of the story (in case you’ve forgotten, by now) always Trust Your Gut!