There are many things that I think about in my mind that I would never do. I think all minds are like that, right? If not, I suppose I have issues.

For example, kids constantly push you to your “limit.” And you have these split-second thoughts about THE MANY options you have. Seriously, there are so many things you COULD do. You could run away, chose violence, chose neglect, etc. You can think of some horrible options. But, while you think those thoughts, most of us out there CHOOSE the kind choice, the loving choice, the right choice. It doesn’t mean that, for a moment, your mind doesn’t go to a dark place.

At least, mine does. Not all the time. I’m not sitting here constantly thinking of horrible things. But I do occasionally have dark thoughts. Thoughts that I push away because I’m not that type of person. Thoughts I push away because I am not the one thinking those thoughts. I am the one hearing them. I’m hoping that’s totally common, and people just don’t talk about it because they are embarrassed that their minds go to that place.

This post isn’t about my kids, though. This dark thought moment is about my dog. My aging, one paw (maybe 2) on the rainbow bridge, dog.

We arrived at the doctor’s office. You know when you walk into a place, and you immediately feel like something is off? That’s how I felt. This place was bare bones. No frills. Not even a fake plant in the corner. No posters on the wall about smart skin care. Like they just popped up shop here temporarily and threw in the necessary office supplies. Maybe I was biased. Our prior derm also did plastic surgery in another wing of their building so when you walked into their office, you were slapped in the face with elegance. Tiled floors. High ceilings. Swanky furniture.

You were dropping money there…and it showed.

Not here. Oh no. This looked like a place you’d get Narcan.

I’d like to think I’m a pretty great mother. Especially compared to what I had growing up. But I have to admit, there is one part of being a parent …

Vince made stroganoff noodles as a side for dinner last night. Nothing fancy, just a $2.89 bag where you only need to add butter and milk. As we all gathered …

Gianna asked me what time it was yesterday after watching Evie for me. I think she was exhausted and wanted to know how much of her life she just spent …

Sitting in the director’s office, I got choked up talking to her about my concern with Evie needing to socialize and separate from me a bit. I know this will be hard for her at first and I’m not looking forward to the frownie face and tears that will undoubtedly come. While almost crying myself, I glanced over in the corner of the room and noticed a pretty cool slime kit. Evie had been asking for pink slime and this had that and MORE. Though I hate slime, like most adults with a pulse, I asked the director where she got it. This thing would entertain Evie for at least 30 minutes, and I need all the time I can get.

In telling me where she purchased it, the director paused and said through her side-mouth (so Evie wouldn’t hear), “she can have it if ya want. Honestly I was going to take it to Goodwill because we aren’t going to use it.”