Swinging on the Pendulum

I have had a list of tasks slowly accumulating. All things that I don’t want to do and so I keep putting them off. Things like making a dentist appointment. Finding a new dentist for my kids. Calling a company about a bill. Deaing with insurance companies. Emailing someone. Calling my bank. 

My typical way of approaching these tasks is to ignore them as long as possible until the dread of facing consequences from not doing them outweighs the dread of actually doing them. 

And in the middle of all this inaction vs action, my brain keeps a tally. We did not do these things, take away points, we are obviously not worthy. We did things, add some points, we must be worthy! It’s an exhausting way to live and it’s something I’ve been struggling to break free of for years. The idea that we must somehow earn love and forgiveness and worth.  

Today, aside from doing things I didn’t want to do, I also did my reading from the book, “Chosen” by Donna Snow, a book I’m reading with a women’s Bible Study. It’s a study on Queen Esther, and it’s been enjoyable. Today’s topic was pride. Generally, Haman’s pride, but specifically, pride that we each deal with in our own lives. 

My mindset of earning my worth is all tied up in pride. I, because of all my good deeds, will be declared good enough. And when I’m having a bad day, I, with all my devastating failures, will never be declared good enough. 

Today, as I’ve swung back and forth on the pendulum of worthy and not worthy, I have heard the Holy Spirit asking me a question. Is what Jesus did on the cross enough? 

When I’m failing, feeling like a horrible parent, an inadequate wife, someone who is incapable of living a disciplined ordered life, is what Jesus did for me enough? Did his blood really cover all of my sins and wash me completely clean, or did it just take care of some of it? 

When I’m feeling like I’m on top of the world, accomplishing all the tasks, being superwoman, is what Jesus did on the cross enough? Do these things that I do make me more lovable, more saved, more righteous? 

I would say that the cure to pride is to take your eyes off of yourself and look instead at the one person who is worthy of all honor and glory. Jesus. He is the one who has declared us worthy, who sacrificed everything in order that we can be covered in his goodness. We can’t take away from what he did with our failures and we can’t add to what he did with our successes. Why am I worthy and loved? Because of Jesus. No other reason. Just Jesus. 

Fail, Repent, Try Again

At the beginning of the school year, my 8th grade daughter had an assignment where she had to describe each person in her family with one adjective. She was telling me the words she used for each of her siblings and it was really fun. Then she told me that she chose the word “Perseverance” for me. Since I have never thought of that as one of my defining traits, I asked her why. She said it was because I kept starting new diets and new exercise plans. I didn’t give up. I kept trying. 

That flabbergasted me. I would tell you that my inability to stick to a healthy diet and exercise plan is one of my biggest failures in life. But through my daughter’s eyes of grace she saw it as perseverance. Mom never gives up. She keeps trying. 

I see my relationship with diet and exercise kind of like that Greek mythological guy who gets cursed to roll a large boulder up a mountain, and every time he almost reaches the top, the boulder rolls back down and he has to start all over again. I don’t see this as a battle I am ever going to win. But at the same time, I’d rather spend my life pushing the boulder up the mountain, then sitting at the bottom and giving up. So I tell my kids, once again..Ok, nobody offer me chocolate or ice cream or anything that tastes great, cause I’m going off sugar again. Who wants to go walking in the park with me? I’m trying to walk every day…again. And the kids just nod and accept it. They’ve seen it before. 

But apparently, while I thought I was modeling “how to fail repeatedly”, at least one of them saw me modeling Perseverance instead. 

I’ve had quite a few people tell me I should write a book. Maybe about parenting? And that sounds like a horrible idea to me. I’ve sat and thought about it before. What advice would I give newer parents? I can’t come up with much. Love your kids. Do unto others as you’d have them do unto you. I feel like my parenting journey has been fully rooted in the verse, “My grace is sufficient for you..” I’ve made silly mistakes and I’ve made mistakes that have caused horrible damage. I have some deep regrets. But, God has been faithful. He has been kind enough to show us what we are doing wrong and given us the opportunity to ask forgiveness and repent and try to turn to a different path. He has been gracious to my children and put other people in their lives who have helped them overcome some of the wounds I have inevitably caused. And somehow he has allowed all of us to walk a path where all of my older children still like talking to me and spending time with me, even when they now have the freedom to choose otherwise. That is God’s favor on our lives. 

I would say that my parenting style has been a constant pattern of fail, repent, try again. I guess I could say our marriage is kind of like that too. In fact.. Maybe this is a pattern for life? Fail, repent, try again? And somehow God works through all of that and instead of calling it failure, he calls it perseverance. And he gives us grace to try again, and somehow takes all the messy debris from all our mistakes, and turns them into good. And while I hope that I will see some victories in this life, the good news is that, unlike the Greek guy who is cursed forever, I know that one day I will be with Jesus and all the battles will be over and I will be fully victorious. And until then, with the grace of God, I will persevere.

We’re All Growing Up

My little kids are growing up. It’s been happening slowly, inching along. And then suddenly I lifted my head up, glanced around and realized everything was different. 

I was at the library this week with my kids and they all went off on their own to find their books. They each had their own library card so I wasn’t needed for any part of the process. Even my youngest child knows how to go to the librarian and ask about particular books they are looking for and place holds for books they want that aren’t available. In the past, I would walk through all the read-a-loud shelves and choose a big pile of fun looking stories that I would take home. And then I would sit on the couch for an hour, surrounded by kids while I read and read and read. My fingers still itch to grab those shiny covers off the shelf. But I no longer do. After bringing home books several times that nobody wanted to listen to because they were too busy reading their own long chapter books, I finally gave up. And that makes me really sad. I loved reading those books. 

I saw a meme today about a parent getting really frustrated at their young children not putting their shoes on in a timely manner. And I laughed. I remember those days. 

Where are your shoes???? Shrug. When did you last see your shoes??? Shrug. Where have you looked so far for your shoes???Shrug. AAACCKK!!! 

But now, we have shoe boxes by the door, and somehow everyone has managed to get trained enough that they leave their shoes at least somewhere in a 10 foot radius of the shoe boxes. And sometimes, actually in the shoe boxes. I tell everyone to get their shoes on, and five minutes later, it’s done. Who knew this was possible. Gone are the days of looking in cars, under beds, by the trampoline, behind the bathroom door, under a pile of dirty laundry. And I can say, that I don’t miss those days at all. 

My older teens occasionally tell some story from when they were little and I am often surprised at how I am portrayed in their memory. I find myself apologizing. I’m sorry sweetie. I was a different mom then. I was a baby mom. And I’ve grown up a lot since then. 

And this is something I’ve never given much thought to. We have kids, and we look forward to watching them grow up. We celebrate every milestone. We have books that tell us what new thing our child should do soon, and we look for hints and clues that our babies are on their way to mastering this newest level of development. We document everything with photos. And then they grow up and we think it’s done. Everyone’s bodies are fully developed. End of story. But it’s not. Our entire lifetime is spent growing up. 

Looking back I can think of some milestones I passed. When I learned to stop throwing a temper tantrum when my toddlers created chaos and wreaked havoc. When I learned to stop yelling so much. When I learned to not explode when my child spilled something or broke something. When I learned how to take myself away and calm down before dealing with something volatile. When I learned that my young teen saying they hate me or some other mean thing, was really just another developmental stage for them, and I didn’t have to feel like a complete failure as a parent. 

Growing up happens in other walks of life too. Last night we attended a marriage class at our church and in our small group discussions, I realized just how far my husband and I have come from our early days of marriage. How we’ve learned to love each other so much better than when we first started. Growth. Growing up. 

In Ephesians 3:14-19 Paul has a prayer for the church. And I’m going to loosely paraphrase it for you. Paul prays that we would be strengthened by the Holy Spirit so that through faith, Christ can live in our hearts, and we can be able to comprehend just how wide, high, long and deep is Christ’s love for us. That we would know his love, and through that be filled with the fullness of God. 

It was a prayer. A looking forward. You don’t have this yet, but I pray that you will. A prayer for growth. 

I believe that it is growth in this area, learning just how much Jesus loves us, that promotes growth in all the other areas of our adult lives. I learn to love my children better and parent them better as I learn more about Jesus’ patience and compassion. I learn to love my spouse better as I learn more about Jesus’ self-sacrifice and long suffering. And I learn how to love the people around me as I learn more how Jesus values me and lavishes unearned favor on me. 

May we all never stop growing up. 

Failing? Still Loved.

Last night I had one of my music major nightmares, leftover from many years past. In the dream here was a big concert hall, full of people. A large stage, all lit up. A grand piano sitting empty, waiting. And my music teacher from college was standing in the wings, ushering me forward to go and perform my piece. Except I couldn’t remember what piece I was supposed to play and even when I looked at the program and saw the name, I had no memory of ever learning this piece. I was going to be made to perform and I was going to fail. 

This seems to be a theme that haunts me all the time. 

I have really been struggling with depression. All motivation seems to be gone. I do the necessary things that have to be done, but nothing extra. This weekend was really hard. I hit Saturday and just getting myself to eat some breakfast and get dressed felt like a major ordeal. I texted my husband to tell him that my ability to accomplish any tasks seemed to have left me. He suggested I take the day off and just not do anything. Which sounded great. Except it was Easter weekend and I had to get everything ready. Does everyone have an outfit to wear? Easter goodies. Easter dinner. Get the house cleaned up, family are coming. Try to get everyone’s schedules lined up. 

Just a lot to do. 

I ended up going to the store with three children in tow and I managed to get everything on the list, but the trip was really stressful. One kid wandered off and I spent ten minutes looking for him. Another kid was being impossible to please. I went through the self checkout  and then in the middle of all that had my blood sugar bottom out on me, which hasn’t happened in a long time. So I was quickly trying to finish checking out and pay so I could rip open some of the food packages that I had bought and eat something and get my blood sugar back under control. By the time I got home I felt like a failure. Bad attitude. Disorganized. The whole trip felt like a disaster. And my brain was just repeating that word over and over again. Failure. Failure. 

I’m not usually that mean to myself and so I made an effort to fight back. You know what, I went to the store. I didn’t want to go. I just wanted to sit in my chair and do nothing. But I went. And it was really hard, but I accomplished what I set out to accomplish. 

Not a failure. 

And telling myself that I’m not a failure feels like a victory in itself. Yay self-esteem! Yay positive thinking!  But I had an interesting thing happen last week that felt like it took this lesson a little deeper. 

I mentioned in my last blog that Child Services showed up to my house last week. I had done nothing wrong. The Social worker said I did nothing wrong. Case closed. She left. I was shaking, I was so upset. Self-righteous anger running through me. Praying out loud. Jesus, you know I’ve done nothing wrong. And it was true. In this scenario I was innocent. But suddenly I had a flashback of other times I’ve really blown it as a parent. My oldest kids saw me make a lot of mistakes. Not so innocent. And I felt like I heard Jesus whispering, even if you were guilty of anything and everything, I still love you the same. My love doesn’t change based on what you do. 

And that’s the lesson I am trying to grasp. Failure. Not a failure. It doesn’t matter. I am still loved. 

Daily Battles

“Are we holding on to, or are we held? Are we approaching or are we inside? Is it finished or in process?

I am talking about our position in Christ, because what we believe makes all the difference right now.” 

Sarah Howe

I read these words the other day on a friend’s Facebook. And I found myself almost arguing out loud. Yes. My brain knows that I am held, I am on the inside, the work is finished. I know this with my brain. But, my heart, it still struggles. My emotions still struggle. My sense of security still struggles. 

This morning I was dropping my son off at school. I got a text right as we pulled into the parking lot. I was concerned about answering it, so when I pulled to a stop I quickly grabbed my phone, sent a rushed response, hit send, then looked up. My son had already exited the car and was walking away, it was time to pull out of the parking lot. I forgot to say “Goodbye, I love you, Have a good day!” And I drove away feeling like a failure. Not a good enough mom. 

It also didn’t help that I started off the day with an unpleasant surprise which then made me snap at my husband and start his day off on the wrong foot. Failure. Not a good enough wife. Can’t start the day cheerfully and help everyone else start the day cheerfully. 

And then it just avalanched. Everything I did was put under the filter of Not-Good-Enough and I ended up just sitting here, feeling like a complete failure. There’s no way that God loves me. Or anyone else for that matter. Unworthy. 

It occurs to me again that life is a battle. And I am my own worst enemy. My flesh. The part of me that says, I’d rather just sit here and eat snacks than get up and exercise. The part of me that says, I’m in a bad mood so I have a right to be harsh and snappy with people. The part of me that feels affronted when I have to deal with any kind of hardship or inconvenience, and then I take that out on everyone else with complaining and acting like everyone owes me something. And then, the part of me that feels less-than, unwanted, unworthy. 

As I sit here, wallowing, I remember Paul’s exhortation, 

Finally, be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power. Put on the full armor of God, so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes. Ephesians 6:10-11

The rest of of that chapter talks about the different parts of the armor of God. I think about the belt of truth buckled around my waist. God is on his throne. Jesus came to save us. I have been chosen by God. I am loved. I think about the breastplate of righteousness. It’s not my goodness that saves me, it’s Jesus’ work on the cross. His righteousness, his goodness, covers me. I think about the helmet of salvation. I am saved! Nothing can separate me from God’s love. I pick up the sword of the spirit, read God’s word. I pick up the shield of faith, I believe what I have read. I strap on the Gospel of peace to my feet, ready to tell the world again, that my God is good, my God saves, he is Love. 

And once again, the day’s battle is won. My brain reminds my heart, my emotions: You are held. You are inside. The work is finished. Go in peace. 

I hit the refresh button on the day. And I start again. 

Fat Fridays: The Juggler

Fat Fridays. The day we talk about diet and exercise and triumphs and failures. 

I did not write last week because I was neck-deep in failure and I had nothing to say. The last couple weeks have been rough. And the hardest part is that I haven’t been sure why eating healthy and exercising suddenly became so hard again. 

I think I finally got some insight today. 

As a mom with eleven kids, I’m keeping track of a lot of things. I have made the comparison before of being a juggler who is trying to keep a bunch of balls up in the air. I’m juggling away, getting into the swing of it. Yeah. I got this. And then someone offstage suddenly starts pelting me with a bunch more balls. You’re keeping ten balls in the air? Here, take five more. And then I start dropping balls all over the place, everything gets out of sync, and I end up picking the most vital balls (how about let’s keep everyone fed and alive) and tossing them in the air while I regroup and try to start getting everything back up in the air and going in rhythm again, with five new balls added. 

I think that is what has happened this month. Extracurricular activities starting up for the kids, several home repair crises that we’ve been putting off for as long as possible, and now they can’t be ignored anymore. All of our vehicles suddenly having problems and needing various parts and repairs. And as all these new things got thrown my way, the first ball I dropped was diet. I kept exercising, but even with that, this week I ended up missing two days in a row. 

This morning I woke up at four am and lay in bed stressing over all the things I needed to do. I finally fell asleep maybe a half hour before my alarm went off. I did not wake up in a good mood. I was grumping at my husband and he blessed me by not responding with an equally grumpy mood. Instead he helped me sort out all the things I was stressed about for the day and helped me figure out some solutions. Then later in the day, one thing got cancelled, and that made it possible for me to do three other things on my list with a lot less stress. And as I realized how much my mood improved just from one cancellation, I started cluing in to how our newly busy schedule was throwing me off kilter in all areas of my life. 

When I reach a certain level of stress, I start grasping at anything to make me feel better and I tend to fall back into my unhealthy coping patterns. Which includes using food for comfort. 

Do I have a solution for this? Not really. But at least I know a lot more what I’m up against. And for me, understanding my behavior always has to be the first step before I can change it. 

Emotions Lie

This post is probably a bit off color. Taboo. Things we don’t talk about in mixed company. Sorry. Since this blog is about my life, I get to pick what I write about. 

What has been on my mind this week is how difficult it is to be a woman who is having monthly cycles. For me, once a month, I have an entire week where suddenly my emotions and feelings lie to me. They tell me that I am angry, depressed. There is no hope. Everything is bad. I am a screw up, a failure. I feel tired and run down. Life feels very bleak. And without fail, it usually takes me at least three days before I make the connection…Oh, right. I’m not REALLY depressed and angry. It’s just that time of the month. But the domino effect has already begun. I try to make myself feel better by eating something sweet or some other special treat. I have no energy so maybe I miss a day of exercise. And then I feel worse. I’m so undisciplined. Why can’t I stick to my diet? I’m so lazy. I couldn’t even get out for a walk. 

And then I figure out what’s going on. And it takes me several days to unravel the mess and get myself back on firm ground. And then I move on with life, forget what happened, only to be hit again a month later. 

And reading this, I think, well, duh why haven’t you been more proactive to chart these things and just plan ahead for them? All I can say is, I’m not the most organized person, and life is really busy. I chronically don’t pay attention and then get hit every month. 

And sometimes, the “everything should be fair and equal” part of me rears up a bit in anger. Why is it just women who have to deal with this? And why were we made this way? It seems to be a rather broken system. 

I think this is one of those topics in which I’m going to have to wait till I get to heaven to get the answers.

In the meantime, all I can do is dwell on what I have learned from this aspect of womanhood. 

Here is what I have learned. Emotions and feelings are not reliable, trustworthy or honest indicators of how my life is going. And I constantly have to remind myself of this. One of the things I say to my kids, A LOT, is “Let’s speak some truth over this.” When they tell me about a nightmare that has scared them. A fear that is crippling them. They give me a list of everything that is wrong with life…Ok. Let’s speak some truth over this. Let’s sort out reality from fiction. Let’s count our blessings so we can see that we are actually living in a place of blessing, not curses. Let’s dwell on what God says about us, not what the world says about us. Let’s attack these bad feelings with truth. 

Something we hear a lot in our culture is “Just Follow Your Heart!” And by heart we generally mean what you are feeling. Which seems really weird when feelings are so random and unstable. They are connected to what time of the month it is. Whether we had a lot of inconveniences thrown our way. Whether someone else decided to behave badly toward us. Feelings and emotions are great tools, but only if you don’t take them too seriously. Yeah, I’m feeling really yucky. But that doesn’t mean life is really yucky. It could mean I’m fighting off a cold, my hormones are shifting, my lunch didn’t agree with me. We just have to keep in mind that every surge of emotion needs to be paired up with some truth speaking. 

Fat Fridays: Growth Mindset

This week has been a challenge on the dieting front. My son’s birthday was Monday and he requested Elidio’s pizza (local, family owned, amazing pizza) and Dunkin Donuts. I had to drive to Dunkin Donuts in the morning, which was when I had time, get two dozen assorted donuts and then have them sit in my house all day until after supper, and then supervise handing out two donuts per person. At supper I had eaten a big salad and decided I was going to allow myself to eat one piece of pizza. But then ended up eating a little more. And then I started handing out donuts, and by the time everyone had picked what they wanted, there was this little plain, unfrosted, baked donut. And so I ate it. And then there was one more glazed donut. And I ate that. And then I was really full. 

And felt very guilty. 

Uggh. 

I stuck to my plan though and recorded everything I ate and sent it to my trainer. And then we talked about it the next day. 

Whenever I mess up, my instant default thought pattern is, I’ve blown it, all is ruined now, despair, despair, despair. 

So, it was a little unnerving to have the trainer say stuff like, “Taking a break and eating pizza every once in a while is fine. How can you plan to have a treat in the future without over-doing it?” Like, she wanted me to actually just move on with life and try and learn for the next time…What kind of adulting is this??? 

It happened again today when I reported that last night, when meeting someone at a Mexican Restaurant, I ate more chips and salsa than I had originally planned on doing. Her attitude was, Ok, what strategies can we think of that will help you next time you are in the same situation? 

And I’m sitting over here telling my “failure and despair” voice to be quiet, cause I’m trying to hear this good advice someone is giving me. 

It occurred to me today that what my trainer is trying to do is inspire a Growth Mindset in me. 

I found this article that gave some good examples of what a growth mindset is. 

The example that stood out to me was:

Fixed Mindset: Failure is the limit of my abilities.

Growth Mindset: Failure is just an opportunity to grow.

I definitely struggle with this. I fail at something and instantly feel like it’s GAME OVER. Which is especially unhelpful when you are on a weight loss journey. Yes, I’ve messed up. That doesn’t mean that I just throw the diet out the window and go back to my unhealthy ways. Instead, I can study my failure, figure out what went wrong, and make strategies for how to do better. 

The next family birthday (which is actually this Saturday), I plan on cooking myself a special treat (I’m thinking baked green plantain with just a touch of spray olive oil and salt and maybe some grilled chicken) and then I am going to have canned peaches while everyone else eats cake. (I happen to think canned peaches are a treat.) Next time I end up at a Mexican Restaurant, I’m just going to ask the waitress/waiter to not bring out chips or, better yet, I’m going to avoid Mexican Restaurants until my self-control is stronger. 

So, hurray for my trainer and all the new things she is teaching me!

Always Failing at Something

Do you have that One Thing that is always ready to jump out of the corner and condemn you? Like, you’re walking along, thinking that you are actually an Ok human being. You are handling life pretty good. In fact, you might even be doing well. And then that One Thing jumps out with it’s jeering face and says, Oh yeah? What about this??? And you hang your head in shame. Oh yeah. I forgot about that. I guess I’m not really doing that great. 

For me it tends to be a messy house. I’ll be assessing how the day is going. Ok, lets see. We homeschooled today, that went well. I’ve cooked all the meals. Had some good quality time reading aloud to the kids. I made a lunch for my husband. I’ve eaten healthy today. Got in my workout. Had my devotions. Yep. I’m doing ok. Then here comes the voice. 

Oh yeah? Have you looked at your house?? It’s a mess! You’re behind with the laundry! Those pots have been “soaking” for a really long time. The kids can’t find anything on their school shelf, it’s such a cluttered mess. We won’t even bring up subjects like mopping and dusting! 

And my little ego deflates. Oh yeah. I actually kinda suck. 

Of course, this is a glimpse into just how performance-oriented my self-esteem is. If I am doing good things then I must be good and have worth. If I am failing in any area then I must be bad. Not really worthy at all. 

And unfortunately, there is always something or some area where I am failing. And this means that my default attitude towards myself tends to be rather negative. 

It makes me think about my spiritual walk. Jesus is all about grace. But my default position, when I think about God, is that he is all about law. If you fail these commandments, this is the list of punishments you will get. If you aren’t careful, you will be burned up in God’s wrath. 

I have heard the sermons, I’ve read the scriptures. I know, in my head, that I am forgiven. That Jesus’ goodness covers over all my badness and cancels it out. I know that the Holy Spirit is living inside of me, slowly changing my heart to be more like Jesus. I know that he sees me through eyes of love and grace. But I still wrestle. My default is still law and punishment. Condemnation. 

I’m a work in progress. I have to constantly remind myself that I am loved, forgiven, a daughter of the King. 

So, today, as my brain started beating me up about what a horrible housekeeper I am, I tried to exercise some grace. Yes. The house is rather messy right now. So what? There’s a lot of good reasons why it’s in that state. Is the world going to end if it doesn’t get cleaned today? Nope. Does a messy house mean I am a horrible person? Not really. Are you ever going to get your house clean? Sure, I’m planning on getting it done this weekend! Ok. Then you are fine. You have permission to ignore the mean voice whispering in your ear. 

Romans 3: 20-24

Therefore no one will be declared righteous in God’s sight by the works of the law; rather, through the law we become conscious of our sin. But now apart from the law the righteousness of God has been made known, to which the Law and the Prophets testify. This righteousness is given through faith in Jesus Christ to all who believe. There is no difference between Jew and Gentile, for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and all are justified freely by his grace through the redemption that came by Christ Jesus.

Sometimes Life is not Fun

Back in October we got a new puppy. He was sweet and cuddly and we all loved him. He got along well with our other pets and seemed to love all the attention from the kids. We quickly discovered that he was deaf. Ok. Well, we can overcome that. We did some research. Started trying to teach him hand signals. 

The only problem with this puppy was that he bit the kids sometimes. Well, he’s a puppy. Puppies do that. His breed is known for being nippy. We worked with the kids more about respecting his space, not bothering him when he was asleep, not teasing him in any way. 

And then he bit two of our kids really badly. Ok. Step back. Reassess. Maybe this puppy is not going to work out after all. My husband started asking around if anyone was interested in rehoming him. No takers. I didn’t want to rehome him, he saw us as his family. 

Then he started attacking anyone that came close to our yard. Not good. My kids have neighborhood friends who like to come over and play. We started having to be hyper-vigilant about the dog and anyone who wasn’t in our family. I looked up on the internet how to deal with aggressive dogs. There are a lot of good training programs out there. They all cost a lot more money than I have available. I called our vet, she said not to keep him. If he’s having this problem now, it isn’t going to get better. But, maybe we weren’t reading the situation correctly? Surely we couldn’t just give up on him? 

Then at the end of last week he bit one of my kids in the face. Completely unprovoked. I saw the whole thing. Child was innocent. Ok. What do we do???? A couple days later a relative who has spent lots of time with the puppy, in and out of our house, came to visit. The dog bolted out our door and attacked them, bit them, hurt them. 

Yesterday I called our local shelter and they said that they do have a program for aggressive dogs. We would have to surrender him and they would keep him isolated and then have a professional behavior specialist work with him until he was adoptable. I had to tell the kids and then take him to the shelter and leave him there. 

I left him in his cage and then walked out, got into my car, and sobbed my heart out. 

I hate it. 

I came home, took the kids away from the house for the day. While we were gone my husband removed the dog kennel from the hall. 

This morning the house feels empty and quiet without all his pent up energy wiggling around. My dog Todd looks sad. The kids asked to see pictures of him before they went to school. 

Sometimes life is not fun.