If you don't have anything nice to say....

I am sure all our moms said this at one time or another: "If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything." Of course sometimes this just isn't true. Obviously when our best friend is about to buy that hidiously ugly puke green sweater or that too tight pair of low rider jeans that does nothing but accentuate her muffin top, it is our moral imperative to speak up and dish out some truth. After someone's nasty little dog attacks your bull terrier, then blames your dog because it is a 'pit bull', obviously some re-education is in order. Or when the nieghbors snot nosed brat.....you get the idea.

However I think mom's point was to not be mean. To try to be positive, to not dwell on bad things, and to not maliciously hurt someones feelings.

Hence the reason I have not posted in two weeks.

 I have an excuse. About 3 years ago, I had a goiter. No, not the type that lives in the New Jersey zoo with green scales and lots of teeth and likes to death roll. This is a big mass on your neck that if you let it go long enough looks like you tried to channel an anaconda and swallow a melon whole. Of course I didn't let it get that big, although I was tempted.....I mean seriously, how much more embarassing to your kids than to show up with a melon sized goiter on your neck! I couldn't have beat that with a stick!

But seriously, I was starting to have trouble swallowing, and you all know me when I get hungry. So in to surgery, and "Off with her head!" Well, thyroid anyways. When I woke up if certainly felt like someone had tried to cut off my head. I think I told my friends the Christiansons that I felt like Nearly Headless Nick.

Since I no longer have a thyroid, I don't produce any of the hormones needed to do all sorts of stuff. I take Synthroid, which is supposed to regulate all that. Funny thing is you have no clue how much of your moods and personality is dependant on that organ which no one gives a second thought.

I have walked into the doctors several times and told them my levels are low. They say "How do you know? Did you get it tested?"   I reply that I alnost smacked my husband with a frying pan, and that is not normal. Sure, he knows how to push my buttons, but I don't do domestic violence. Probably a good thing given my temper sometimes.

So two weeks ago there was a 'mixup' with the doctor and the prescription-at least that is my nice way of saying they didn't send it down to the pharmacy for a week. You want to see me get ugly? Hide my pills for a week. Or don't send the scrip down so I can't fill it.

I kept trying to sit down here and blog, but all I could think of was mean and nasty. Now I know a few people who LIKE mean and nasty, and to be fair they are a blast with a six pack and some serious gossip time. I mean..... if I were like that....they in theory....would be very bad......you should never gossip.....

Anyways.....

Funny thing is, I felt mean and nasty to myself. My beads looked like crap, the dogs were pissing me off, and pissing on the floor, and my muffin top got so big I refused to take a picture in my new skirt.

Luckily, the meds are back on track and I am feeling normal again. Unfortunately, my mood swings have a champion, and his name is Mo the Enforcer.

I have never had a dog so in tune with my moods. If I yell at a dog, Mo, who was sitting so calmly 2 seconds before, suddenly enrages, yelling in a barbarian roar and launching at the dog as if he is the hound from Hell itself. If I am feeling silly he starts bouncing around like he has a pogo stick stuck somewhere. If I am tired he lays with his head on my feet. When he started snarking at everyone, my first thought was Tallulah, my first bull terrier, had come back to haunt the house and was whispering things in his ear.....killlll himmmm.....take offfff hissss earrrrrr....you knowww youuuu wannnt toooooo. She would do that. She really would, the cutie patootie. I miss her.  

I was looking for a picture of Tallulah, and found a picture of Bridget and Denny in a nest box when they were babies. Denny is sticking his tongue out, and they are so stinkin cute I had to post it!

There she is! That is my Tallulah, with a possum she killed in the barn that was going after my chickens. She was such a good girl! She actually tried to bring it in the house, probably would have put it in her crate. Lou was a hoarder. You would find all sorts of stuff in her crate, and the whole time you were in there looking she would be pacing back and forth, worried you would steal her treasures.

Now I am sad, I miss my Lou. Wonder what Mo will do with that?