Murmur, Murmur, Murmur

Waring: This is going to be a complaining, whining, "poor me" post, but I do want to have a record of our life as it is now.  Most of the time I don't post these kinds of things, because I don't want to look back through my blog books and be reminded of negative things we have happen, but this time I'm going to make an exception.  Maybe it will teach us something, and I don't want our kids to grow up and think we never had life stink sometimes, so I can tell them "hey, buck up-been there, done that" kind of thing when they come to me whining, I guess! :)

I'll start at the first...
  Our oven stopped working one night in the middle of trying to make dinner when I had friends over to keep us company while Damien was at an away game.  Then, our laptop got a mean, ugly virus while I was cutting game film the next day and would not work (nothing more frustrating that when electronics don't work like they are supposed too!), and while I was on the phone trying to find a reliable, trustworthy computer guy, Damien called and asked me to come get him in Swan Valley, where he, the boys, and Addison had gone to check traps.  His truck had broke down along side the road and they were stranded.  After Thanksgiving and our house was broken into and Damien's wallet and our "extra" money was taken, the mood at our house was a little dim.  And things just got worse and worse, it seemed.  All those things were unexpected events that took A LOT of our already scarce bank account and that always adds to the stress of normal living.  Then our van had to have repairs-things Damien couldn't do-so that just added to it.  Our pipes froze in our laundry room and we were a few days without the water working in there.  We had holiday parties and get togethers, the boys were busy with basketball and school and piano, there was someone throwing up, coughing, crying, etc. most days, and the sicknesses just went from one person to the next, it seemed.  Plus, Damien was super busy with basketball, school, and AD stuff, so was rarely home.  We all felt a little grumpy, to say the least. :) Our kids were excited though, when Dad brought home the cutest little puppy, Reba.  She was a yellow lab and just as cute as can be.  Even I thought so, and I hate strongly dislike dogs, well, most animals actually.  We liked little Reba, but on day five of having her, I walked into the garage and was disgusted!  Damien and the boys had made little makeshift place for her in the garage since it was cold and everyone was short on time to make her a decent place outside.  But when I saw the "mess" all over the garage, I was on a rampage. :)  Damien was gone, good thing, too, because I'm sure he would have gotten an ear-full about the blasted dog.  My kids heard it instead. :)  They were out cleaning it all up and playing with Reba a little, while I was in getting my food ready to take to our ward party.  I was mad at myself when I realized I was out of something I needed, so decided to just run into Rigby to grab it quickly.  I went out to the garage and told the kids I would be back.  Korver was asleep and Addison begged to come with me, so I let her.  When I walked get into the van, I thought Reba would stay by the boys, as they had been playing with her just seconds before.  But instead, Reba had indeed followed after me-but I didn't know that!  I got into the car, put the van into reverse, looked back and pushed the gas.  I didn't' even feel a bump or even hear a sound.  But when I looked back ahead of me,there was poor little Reba laying on the garage floor.  I had run over her, and in front of my kids, of all things.  I am usually pretty calm in most situations like this, but I slightly panicked.  Reba was still alive, and my first thought was that I needed to put her down so she was not hurting anymore.  I called Damien, who was at practice, and let's just say I was not calm at this point, and sort of told him what had happened.  I don't really remember what I said, but I remember saying that I don't even know which bullets go in which gun but I need to shoot her! :(  Reba died while I was still on the phone, so she suffered for about thirty seconds.  It was sad.  Really sad.  I don't even like dogs, and it was sad.  To say I felt bad would be a MAJOR understatement.  I cried off and on for three days and couldn't even look at the garage without getting sad.  My kids were sad, and that made me feel even worse, and my husband was trying to be comforting but it didn't help really.  Damien called the good people we got her from to ask if they had another, and even after what happened with Reba, they were so nice and gave us the last one they had, and male we named Hank.  I am still sad when I think of Reba, and it was super traumatic for me.  I told Damien I don't know if I can actually really hunt with him. :)  He made me feel a little better when he admitted that he gets a little sad for a few minutes every time he gets something when he hunts.  :)
Things were just rough around here for awhile, and I often wondered why we had all this rotten stuff happening.  I wonder if Satan was working extra hard to make this special time of year seem stressed and crazy so we can't feel the special feeling we have at Christmas time.  I wonder if he knew we would have days when we would all be home together for the break,so instead of feeling loving toward each other, he created situations that would make it be harder to feel love in our family.  I'm sure he did, and does, that quite often to families everywhere.  I am just thankful, more than ever, that we are all healthy and, for the most part, happy.