Ten Months.

You are almost a year old, time is whizzing by!  I guess we need to start planning your very first birthday!  Unfortunately, for everyone this month was full of more sadness than happiness.

January 4th you, me, and both the dogs were sitting on the floor one evening.  Everything was going peachy.  You were sitting still for once, not trying to crawl around, or bang on things, and out of nowhere, one of our dogs, Lucy, was on top of you growling.  It happened in a split second.  There was no warning, no provocation, nothing that should have caused this.  Instinct kicked in.  You weren’t hysterical yet, until I stood up to get the dogs in their crates.  That’s when the screaming started.  Things were ok.  I gave you a brief look over, no blood.  Good sign.  Got the dogs in their crates.  You’re still hysterical.  You must have been screaming pretty hard, because once I picked you up, that’s when the blood started flowing.  I realized that Lucy had bit you.  In the face.  That’s when panic kicked in, and instinct was gone.  I didn’t know what to do.  You were hysterical.  I was hysterical.  I had to put you down, because when I called for the voice of reason (Dada) I couldn’t’ hear a thing he said.  It didn’t matter.  According to him, all he got out of me the first few seconds of the call was, “Oh, god, oh god…”  I don’t even remember saying them.  Eventually, I pulled myself together enough to grab your stuff, grab you, head to dad’s work, and get to the emergency room.  Since it was a dog bite, the police were called.  The emergency room took for what seemed like forever.  It was probably only 2 hours, but they were an exhausting 2 hours.  People were constantly in and out of our room.  Police.  Nurses.  Doctors.  Hospital staff.  It seemed like we saw everyone in the hospital that night.  Turned out, it wasn’t so bad.  You didn’t need stitches.  There was no real permanent damage, but there was more damage than I had originally seen.  You could tell where the top of Lucy’s mouth had punctured your skin, and where her bottom teeth had punctured it, which is the part I originally saw.  This was no accident, and Dada was hell-bent on putting Lucy to sleep the next day, which we ended up not being able to do because she was in quarantine for 10 days.

This was almost a week after.

January 7th at about 9:45 in the morning I get a call from daycare, repeatedly telling me that you’re ok, and there’s nothing to worry about because you’re ok… and, and, and…  I seriously just wanted them to spit it out because I got probably a good 3 minutes of “She’s ok but… she’s doing fine… but...  she’s ok…” and on and on.  One of the teachers at daycare wasn’t paying attention, and the other two were busy with other children and so they weren’t paying attention either, so when she opened the door, and you were in front of it… she ran over your poor little chubby hand.  They said you cried, a lot, but eventually napped after a while.  If course you did, you probably wore yourself, out.  When I got to daycare that afternoon, I was furious.  We have continually had issues with them and I cannot wait to have your little brother / sister so that I can stay home with you two, and take care of you on my terms, and not have all these issues to deal with anymore.  Your hand didn’t seem to both you too much, so it probably looked a lot worse than it was (Dada thought it may have been broken upon his first inspection) but it never seemed to stop you from getting into everything, and using it as you would have any other time.

It was actually bruised a lot worse than it looks here.
This was taken 3 days later.

January 9th was my 30th birthday.  The majority of people I know forgot it, which made a hard week, even harder.  I pretty much snapped when I got home, and started crying, and couldn’t stop.  When your dad got home, we talked more about Lucy, and your Uncle Jacob had offered to take her, so I was more than thrilled at that prospect.  Not only did we not have to put her down, but she was going to a home where she could still be a part of our lives.  Yay!

January 20th was the day that Jacob was supposed to take Lucy.  He ended up not being able to do it.  A little devastating, but we thought we had found another alternative, someone that could take her, work with her, and place her with a good family, with no children.

January 22nd you were in your walker, which is in front of the dog’s crates, out of nowhere, Lucy starts growling, and lunging at you.  This upset you, understandably.  And we realized we really needed to move on the whole rehoming Lucy thing, but we still hadn’t heard from the one person we were able to find in our area.

January 23rd we saw your doctor for you 9-month appointment.  (On time, I know, get used to doctors pushing you around, you’re at their mercy, and they can move your appointments around so far that you’re being seen at almost 10 months old for your 9-month appointment.)  You are right on course for being a healthy growing girl!  You were 19 pounds and 6 ½ ounces.  You measured in at 27 ½” (which is a little over two feet!)

Happy girl!

January 24th at 3 am you woke up for your middle-of-the-night bottle, and almost immediately, didn’t keep it down.  Some nasty bugs have been going around, so we decided to keep you home.  Dada stayed with you, and you kept that up pretty much all day.  The next day, you still hadn’t kept anything down (formula, food, or water) and you were grumpy because you were hungry, but then you’d throw it all up, and that upset you too.  So after trying to get an appointment with your doctor, and being unsuccessful, we took you to the emergency room.  We were there for three agonizing hours.  You were still hungry, and they didn’t provide us with any answers until the very end.  You didn’t have the flu, which was good, but you did have a viral infection, which they can’t give you anything for, which was awful.  They did give you a prescription for something to keep you from throwing up, and put you on a Pedialyte diet for at least a day.  You were so happy to have something in your tummy; you sucked it down every time we gave it to you.  That night, when Dada went to feed the dogs, Lucy snapped at him, and we decided, with very heavy hearts, that it was finally time to let her go.  She was getting worse.  We didn’t know why, or how, or even when it really started, but it was time to say goodbye.

Poor, sick, little ER baby.

January 26th at 8:28 am, I called the vet to make an appointment.  They could get us in at 11:30, and they would accommodate our requests for Lucy’s final moments.  Uncle Jacob came over to watch you while we took Lucy and Landon to the vet.  They got to play a little bit before we left, and then we headed out the door.  My feet felt like lead.  It hurt to even move to get to the car.  But it was something that had to be done.  She was a danger to you, and a growing danger to others around her.  We got her into the vet, and when the time came, Dada was in a lot of pain, and could barely bring himself to bring her to the room.  We had a few moments to say goodbye, and then they put her to sleep.  It was a painless thing, but incredibly painful at the same time.  Lucy felt no pain as she passed.  But we felt the world come crashing down on us.  Landon was also in the room, and he got a chance to say his goodbyes to her as well.  It has been a few rough few days, and without your smiling little face, I don’t know how any of us could have made it through this extremely difficult time.  Although she hurt you, and we love you with all our hearts, we also loved her.  We had her for over 5 years, and she was a huge part of our lives, and family.  I hope that someday you will have a pet that you love and cherish as much as we did Lucy, and do Landon, and that you can understand how much joy they bring us.

Lucy loved you, and you loved her.

January 29th, the month of terrible happenings was almost over.  We were looking for a fresh start.  Unfortunately, one more bad thing had to happen.  Your Great-Grandfather, Ray, passed away late on the 29th.  Unfortunately, you never had the chance to meet in person, but he was a wonderful man.  We all had a chance to Skype for his 90th birthday, so you did get to see him once, but you won’t remember.

Raymond Leroy Holtzen died 1/29/2013 in Marble Falls, Texas. He was born 10/7/1922 in Fairmont, Oklahoma as the youngest of 13 children of John and Margaretha Holtzen.

Raymond served proudly in World War II in Europe with the U.S. First Army Signal Corp. He met Jean Betty Duncan in England during the war and they were married by proxy 9/22/1945 and in the church on 8/9/1946.

Raymond worked as a Construction Supervisor of numerous soil conservation dams in Oklahoma.

Upon retirement Raymond and Betty moved to Lake Texoma. They were members of the Our Savior's Lutheran Church in Durant, Oklahoma,.

They enjoyed arts and crafts and traveled to many craft fairs selling their handmade wooden toys and crafts.

Raymond moved to Marble Falls, Texas in 2012 to be closer to his daughter Jeannette Wilson.

Raymond was predeceased by his wife, Betty and a son, David Lee Holtzen.

He is survived by a daughter, Jeannette H. Wilson and her husband, Jim of Marble Falls, Texas; A son, Colin Ray Holtzen and his wife, Tracey of Broken Arrow, Oklahoma; A grandson, Jason Ray Holtzen and his wife, Amanda and great-granddaughter, Quinn, of Bartlesville, Oklahoma.

In lieu of flowers, donations to the American Heart Association would be appreciated.

As for some good news.  Your two little teeth finally broke free, and you love to show them off with your smile.  You love to smile.  You also love to get into everything, and bang your spoon on whatever objects you can find to make music for us.  You still love to talk our ear off.  Sometimes we wake up in the morning, and who knows how long you've been awake, but you're in your room just babbling to yourself happy as can be.  I love you baby girl.  I’m sorry this was such a depressing entry, but that’s what happens in life, which you will figure out soon enough, if you haven’t already.  I hope next month is better for all of us.

Love,

Momma