Sunday, the Sleepy Pup turned three. He's such a delight. I'm awfully glad we have a dog again, and as much as I try to pretend we got him for the boys, it's a lie. He is my baby and I am his person and that's really all there is to say about it.
He's the best ever.
There's not a ton going on here outside of the normal state of things. Dad and sister continue to be of concern. Hubby's family is working on keeping up with the drama by having their own implosions. I'm on hubby's case, just a tad, about scheduling something with his sisters (zoom? phone call? smoke signals?) to talk about the what ifs of their parents. With the warning shot across the bow, so to speak, coming from their dad and his heart scare (which turned out to be pretty much a non issue, but still) everyone needs to get and be on the same page as far as what happens if one goes before the other. Especially as his mom would be completely unable to live on her own. His dad would probably be okay for a little bit.
And of course there's the question of what to do about the youngest sister who, for varied reasons real and imagined, has yet to live on her own or hold a job for more than a handful of months at a go with long, long gaps between any attempt at employment.
Hubby and I kind of feel like we're calling "not it" and stepping back, but of course that only works in theory. No one's sure what the reality would end up needing to be.
I know we took a little mini vacation in September, but I'm ready for another already.
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