Back to... 'normal'

Painting leaves for Grandma

Two days ago, my daughter and granddaughter departed, separating us by 4,600 miles. I am very lucky that they would travel this far to see us, and allow lots of play-time, crazy non-sense with spaghetti cooked in hot dogs, rice on the floor, paint on the sidewalks, and intermittent screams of terror at night!  Although these sound very disturbing, we enjoyed it every moment we could, and fell comatose into a stupor 2 hours after they left. We will have lasting memories of her bedtime ritual of presenting us with a blanket, in which she would allow herself to be wrapped and carried outside to view the stars, moon, and Jupiter accompanied by Twinkle, Twinkle...  It was magical for us, and doubly magical for mommy who was delivered a willing toddler with eyes closed.

Close to Grandpa.

I'm planning on picking up the pieces of my life, and returning to a busy schedule this week, but first I'll try to write some blog posts, in some sort of order so you can see what happened.
One thing I would like to address is how stressful it is to live with a 2 year old and a 16 year old.  The 2 year old, a toddler, who is crazy about all things 'doggy' (the 16 year old).  Both of them managed uncharacteristically well, since the toddler made sure there was maximum contact between them...  The 16 year old doggy was given up for lost 2 years ago when she had a severe stroke and disabled her eye-sight and walking.  Within 2 weeks, she had recovered much of her ambulatory skills which leaves her running smack into things... she sees some things on one side only, and hears nothing.  So, when she had her last visit to the vet, and it was decided that she wouldn't need a 3 year rabies shot, because, really... (a 19 year old dog?) I opted for the 3 year rabies shot.
A week later, there she is, struggling to move, struck down by another stroke, totally visually impaired, and being carried outside because of limited mobility.  Stopped eating, too.  We tried to put aside the obvious thoughts while the 2-year-old continued her fascination with all things doggy.  A big factor in this fascination was brought on by our cats (Bonnie and Clyde) who made themselves very scarce until after said toddler's bedtime.  (Bonnie provided an educational tableau one evening by letting a mouse run around in the kitchen. No pictures... but lots of mouse hunting stories.)
Today's conclusion:  She's got 'good genes' (as the vet says), and by the time we returned from the airport, our 16 year old was eating, running around, and acting very non-114 "people years".

Puppy or 114 years old? (She's looking at you...)