Okay, I’m seeing a kerjillion [technical term] people on my stat counter today coming from some place called stumbleupon.com. Who are you? What’s going on? What the heck is Stumble Upon? I can’t figure it out. Tell me quick- my brain can’t handle the mystery!
I have found that when one is drugged and bedridden, one can actually learn quite a bit from daytime television. For instance, after watching the reruns of the good old days of America’s Funniest Home Videos, I’ve learned that the show is nothing without Bob Saget. The man was an overdubbing god.
Also, Ellen is somewhat odd. But I guess I already knew that.
But the very very best part of daytime TV is this awesome show called Real Life 101. It’s this cheesy talk show for teenagers where they go and interview a bunch of different people each episode and find out what their job is like. It’s supposed to help you decide which way to travel on your “road of life” after high school. The hosts are so annoying I want to punch them, but holy frijoles this is a cool show! Ever wonder what it’s like to be an Orthodontist? Episode 59! What do Rabbis do when they’re not Rabbi-ing? Episode 63! Thought about becoming a magazine editor? Or ever wondered how hard it is to be a Search and Rescue volunteer? Episode 66!
Where was this show when I was a delicate young thing looking into my future? Well, after watching Episode 60, I discovered that maybe there are some amazing things I can do and still be a stay at home mom. In the episode I watched, they featured a woman who trains assistance dogs. When Annoying Jillian was wrapping up the episode, she rattled off a few other types of service dogs that I have never heard of, but that sounded really interesting. I Googled the term “facility dog” and found my new calling.
A Facility Dog, otherwise known as an Emotional Service Dog, is an animal trained to provide a calm, loving companion for someone in need. A volunteer will take their dog to all kinds of places, such as schools, nursing homes, and hospitals where the dog will do anything from a brief visit to cheer up a nursing home resident to sitting quietly while a physical therapy patient grooms and pets the dog to help with their therapy. Some dogs have helped reluctant readers find motivation and a loving reading companion. Others have encouraged troubled students to feel more confident and learn to follow instruction. The basic idea is to use an animal who gives nothing but unconditional love, and bring some joy and a little variety into the lives of people who need it. Non-profit groups like Therapy Dogs International provide strict guidelines and testing procedures to certify a dog as an Emotional Service Dog, and then help their volunteers connect with places in their area that are interested in having visits from a dog.
I can’t believe I didn’t know about all of this before. This is perfect for me. I can’t begin to imagine the rewards that would come from being involved in such a labor of love. And what a fantastic opportunity for my girls to help in their community and gain some amazing skills of their own. Of course… I don’t technically have a dog yet. That seems like kind of a road block. But I’m going to do some more research on programs in our area, and hopefully observe some of these dogs in action, and when the time comes I’m sure the right dog will find me somehow.
Thank you, Annoying Jillian. Thank you, Real Life 101. And thank you daytime television, for being the bearer of such cheesy wonderful information. This is going to be slow in evolving, because there is a lot to think about and prepare for, but I am so excited. This could really be a life-changing experience.
My toes are swollen sausages.
Who knew laying in bed for six days could make a person so grouchy?
I am so bored, but the new pain medication makes my head feel jello jiggly so there’s not much I could accomplish anyway.
I tried reading, but the words swim all over the page after a few sentences, which makes me feel like I’m going to puke again.
I tried watching a movie, but I fell asleep halfway through Cold Mountain and when I woke up I couldn’t figure out why the bad guy from Mission Impossible 3 was watching them cut up a cow.
I have an art project humming in my bones, but I don’t have the tools I need. Wire mesh, anyone have some extra wire mesh?
After regurgitating my bean dip into the toilet on Sunday, food just isn’t as much fun anymore.
I got in a fight with Ammon at 4:30 this morning, but the hydrocodone made me forget why. All I remember is that it was his fault.
The snow is melting away and I am as bleak and patchy as my neighbor’s roof. Cowboy take me away.
Not even wrapping my bandaged foot in a garbage bag and suspending it on the edge of the tub can keep me from enjoying a bath. Sitting so still, enveloped by the warm, gentle water… it is the ultimate in relaxation. I have to make more time for these long, tranquil soaks. It’s so much more elegant than jumping in the shower for a furious scrub down, trying to be out and dressed before Clifford is over. Baths force me to pay attention to my body, feeling each muscle as it slowly lets go and begins to relax. It’s quiet and steamy and intimate. Perfect.
More resolutions here.
Every once in a while, I get this feeling. It starts down at the base of my spine and pushes up and out until I can’t think about anything else. It’s never specific, never clear, but I know that unless I create something I am going to explode. It’s like my body has a vision, or maybe a need. There is something beautiful my hands have to make. There’s a shadow of it in my mind, a good starting place. When this happens to me, the end result is never anything like that newborn shadow idea, but it never matters. It’s not the creation my body wants, it’s the process of creating. Van Gogh said, “I dream my painting, and then I paint my dream.” Nothing about this is conscious, and it doesn’t have to be. I just have to feel. Breathe. And create.
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