Caffeine & Holesteins

I'm tired. I've done OK off the juice, but it's sad to report not much has changed. Only one day did I suffer any headaches (and I think that was more drama, then withdrawal). And the tremor? The whole reason for starting this little experiment? Well, I'm still shaking. In a couple weeks, I'll be visiting with my doctor and I think I'll request some further testing. While 90 percent of me is convinced this a lovely little gift passed down through generations on my mother's side, there's the 10 percent that worries wonders if it's something else.

If the caffeine was truly influencing the tremor, wouldn't you think that after 2 weeks, I'd see some results? I feel NO DIFFERENT. Admittedly, I've had a couple of slips. I love coffee. LUV it. So I have found that if the decaff is unavailable, I take a bite of forbidden fruit. Not always, not even regularly, but there's been a couple times when I NEEDED it (there, I said it). And I'm needing it right NOW!

I'm tired. And the pop machine with freshly stocked Mountain Dew is calling to me ... loudly ... from down the hall ... around the accounting office in my building. But I shall not bend. I have not had any caffeinated pop since the 12th of this month. And today will not break me. But I'm tired.

Why all this fatigue, you wonder? Well, our little farmette is quickly turning into a petting zoo. About a week ago, you may remember me reporting that the kids and Marty found where Sally, our resident Mama Cat, had tucked away her most recent litter: in the crawl space under the porch. All seven of those cute, little fur balls are thriving! Running all around, eating kitty food, and staying out from under our vehicles.

Turns out, seven really must be our lucky number because last night, our beagel, our beloved Sidney Freedman may have secured me new furniture before Christmas! Her water broke as we watched the World Series! On the couch! And it's not leather or microfiber, but good ol' cloth!

Working fast, we fashioned a birthing room upstairs where we could keep a close eye on her and by 10:05 p.m., the first of seven SPREAGLES were born (Sid is a beagel and her baby daddy, Chubby, is a springer spaniel). While it's been a few years since I labored my children into this world, I was so feelin' for Sidney. You could hear her push and groan and every once in awhile a pained howl would be launched into the universe. At one point, I think it may have been "transition," she left her quarters as if to say, "I'm soooo outta here," and jumped up on my bed (looks like Santa's bringin' new sheets, as well).

Who knew that newborn puppies were so loud?! It sounded like a pack of wild dingos in there! But by sunrise, all seven were settled down and cuddled up with Mommy, a sea of black and white. To quote my husband, "It looks like a herd of Holsteins.

So, would it be wrong to have a celebratory Dew?