this rings true

First off, don't look at my pork fingers. I have fat little hands, this I know. Don't mind my tiny fingernails that are smaller than most children's fingernails. Avert your eyes away from the random scratch on the side of my hand. Don't notice how I don't have knuckles - just void little spaces were knuckles should normally be. Please don't take any of this into account. Just look at that gorgeous ring sitting on my finger and absorb the beauty of that.

I've been wearing this lovely ring for 8 months now and it still has the ability to catch my attention and take my breath away. When the light hits it just right, it sparkles in a million different little rays. I love this ring. I hand-picked this ring in a totally non-traditional way of ring picking. Sure, I could've left the whole ring-choice thing up to Justin, but I didn't want him to spend oodles of money on a ring that he wasn't even sure I was going to like. He would've gotten a solitaire diamond knowing him; and right off the bat, he would've been wrong.

I don't like diamonds in the traditional sense and I definitely don't like solitaires. There's nothing wrong with them and I'm not trying to knock other people's rings, I'm just stating my preferences here. This is what I do and don't like. I went with an aquamarine center stone for two reasons (one practical and one sentimental). First (practical), this is the first ring that I'll actually be "wearing". I'm not a jewelry girl. I have other rings, but this is the ring I'll be wearing every day. I didn't want something outrageously expensive that I very well may break or lose. I couldn't stand the thought of spending so much money on my engagement ring when I wasn't even sure if I'd be able to stand wearing it every day or if I'd just lose the whole thing entirely. For the more sentimental aspect, aquamarine is Justin's birthstone. This ring means something special to me and him, even if it means diddly-squat to other people. It is sacred to us and us alone.

I'm still so grateful to be wearing this ring - to be marrying this man. Every time I see him, I feel this overwhelming sense of love and admiration for him. His latest milestone? He's quit smoking. I haven't been this proud of him in a long time, which in a way is wrong of me. I should always be proud of him, every day. He's out there working hard at a job he doesn't exactly love to support this family. He's trying to do the right thing for himself and for us by being the best person he can be. I can't ask much more of him. We're in this middle ground of our relationship where things are old and new all at the same time. I think a lot of times our culture is all too willing to celebrate young love and old love, but nobody is there to celebrate all the middle love - the love that happens in between all those years together. Those moments define our love and our relationships, and yet they're often overlooked. I celebrate this part of my relationship with Justin. I'm thankful to have made it this far and I'm hopeful for what lies ahead of us. My ring is just a daily reminder that our love is special - not everyone may understand its practicality or its sentiment. But this is our love. End and beginning of story.

oh boy! a letter trick

I learned this somewhere as a kid and sometimes when I'm bored, I'll sit and draw a million of these little guys all over my paper. It's just another one of those totally pointless things we learn to do as a kid that sticks with us until the day we die; why couldn't those algebra lessons have stuck so well?!

Anyways, here's something to teach your kiddos (or enjoy for yourself) next time you feel like doodling the day away! ENJOY!

STEP ONE: print the word "boy".

STEP TWO: connect the top of the b to the outer stem of the y & connect the bottom stem of the y to the bottom of the b to make a circle/face.

STEP THREE: connect the inner stem of the y to the same spot on the upper spot of the b as in step two.

STEP FOUR: draw some pupils inside the circles made by the b and o.

STEP FIVE: draw the mouth and voila! you have a boy!


Of course, feel free to decorate your BOY however you see fit! Give him crazy hair or a big nose or buck teeth or pimples or dumbo ears. Draw a little BOY and then you can create a whole body to go with him. The possibilities are endless (god, don't I know it)! If you ever see a bunch of these scribbled on some random toilet stall in some random bathroom then there's a pretty safe bet it was yours truly here! :)

Here's my completed BOY!


Do you have any letter/word tricks you can do? I'd love to learn a new one seeing as how I've been doing this one since the 4th grade!

helplessness

If you don't know already, my SidMo is a sick girl. It started sometime Tuesday and it's still going fairly strong today. We went to the doctor this morning and got our diagnosis: infected tonsils (yes, both of them of course). I feel so bad for my little bug, mostly for the fact that I don't know how to help her.

I grew up pretty healthy; I never really had any big viruses or bugs. I never got strep throat or mono or the flu. The common cold was about the only thing I ever suffered and even then, it wasn't that bad. My mom is a school teacher. My dad is a nurse. I've been exposed to everything and nothing can touch me. Or at least that's the way it used to be.

Since I gave birth, I gave up all my good antibodies to SidMo. For the first time in my entire life, I had strep throat this past year. It. nearly. killed me. I don't know how sick people handle themselves; I've never had to do it before. I couldn't work. I couldn't take care of my daughter. I couldn't do a single productive thing for the entire four days I was sick. I was worthless! And now my darling little girl is sick and I'm feeling the same worthlessness I felt then. I don't know how to take care of her. I have no idea how to make her feel better - what to say or what to do. I feel about as useless as a "peter on a pope" (Justin's quote). I know that mothers are supposed to follow their natural instincts and deal with their own children accordingly. But I have no natural instincts kicking in right now. I am hopeless.

Last night she woke up crying in the bed beside me. I tried to wake myself up fast enough to help her, to figure out what she needed. It was useless. She just cried and cried no matter what I tried to do for her in my sleepy state; what am I supposed to do when she's in pain and I have no idea how to fix it fast? It's the most frustrating thing I've ran into in my few short years of being a parent. How are we supposed to help and heal our babies when we don't even know what's wrong? Maybe I'm the abnormal mom here, but I swear I don't have those natural-born instincts embedded in me. I can't look at SidMo or listen to her crying and know what's wrong. I feel completely rotten and I'm just hoping and wishing and praying that she gets better soon. I hate being this lame. I hate feeling this lame.

The only good thing that has come out of this entire sick-fest is the simple fact that SidMo will let me cuddle with her at the moment. Most of the time, she pushes me away when I try to snuggle with her and give her extra lovings. Right now, she's soaking up all the attention I give her. I just wish I could give her more than back rubs and tummy kisses.

look what prop8 has made me do

It's my understanding that it isn't very wise to blog about anything while you're living "in the moment", especially if that moment is full of anger, disappointment and hostility. However, I'm in my moment right now and I think blogging about it is the only thing left to do. I've been twittering about it and now it's time to take it one step further; to explain how I feel beyond my 140-characters allotted.

I am against banning gay marriage. I am so saddened by what California has done today. I honestly cannot understand why we feel the need to take away marital rights from anyone, regardless of sexual orientation. I've never heard one good argument for banning gay marriage that wasn't based on a person's religious affiliation and belief system. Is there a good argument out there? Because I totally missed it.

Marriage is marriage in my eyes. I would never want someone to tell me that I had NO CONSTITUTIONAL RIGHT to marry Justin. It would kill me. It kills me now that we are doing that to millions of gay couples out there today. This is not our right as Americans. We should not be allowed to deny others certain, specified rights. I know the Constitution was not written at at time when gay marriage was an issue, but it's like Justin tells me all the time when we get into this discussion: gays have been around since the dawn of time. They're not going anywhere. It's time that we quit trying to sweep these freedoms under the rug. It's time that we give Americans everywhere the right to marital protection under the law. It's time to do the right thing.

Even if religion is an issue with someone, think of all the other reasons aside from religion that we should allow gay marriage. Anyone taken a good look at our economy lately? Don't you think allowing gay couples to get married would boost that economy (because we all know those fabulous gay couples would throw some equally fabulous weddings and hello, $$$ back into our economy)! Think of the countless children waiting to be adopted/fostered. If we allow gay couples to marry and adopt equally with heterosexual couples, so many children will be given a second chance at a real family. Who are we to deny these children the right to a loving home with two equally loving parents?

I've always been opposed to banning gay marriage; it's something that's never been an issue of debate in my mind. After reading this article (in People of all places!) my mind was made up, sewn up, shut up 120%. Joy Behar just reassured me why I believe in equality for all. Joy Behar - of all the civil rights activists out there, a TV host made the absolute most sense to me. It's as simple as what she said. I would never want to be in that position. I would never want anyone in that position to suffer more than they had to because of ignorance and prejudice. I'll always fight for what I believe in. And I believe we can be a country of true and just equality for all.

the lake

I have a new, profound love and respect for hanging out by/on/near/at the lake. It's a glorious wonder that I was able to experience for the first time today and I've fallen in love, people. Boating. Swimming. Tanning. It's all there & I love it. I absolutely cannot wait to take SidMo down to the lake this coming Monday; I have a feeling that she's going to be just like her water-loving momma here and fall head over in heels in love, too. It was a glorious day, made even better by two facts: one, I didn't have to work today and two, my best friends Cassie & Dobby came with me to the lake (they fell in love, too)!

We had SUCH a good time - I feel like people have been keeping this huge secret about lakes from me. Why didn't someone tell me that free water is so much fun?! I haven't had such a good day in a long time! I can only imagine all the glorious fun that we'll have this Monday when the Gilliam clan takes to the waters!

CUE SUMMERTIME!!!











how many people get to see their boss do this?!

my list

I'm not usually a "list" kind of person. Lists require a coherent string of thoughts that are organized and placed into some sort of numerical or chronological order for later reference. Lists imply that a person has set goals and certain numbered hopes they wish to achieve at some point in their lives. Lists, are to me, the opposite of how I view my life. I'm a very spontaneous and fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants kind of person. If something new pops up unexpectedly and changes the entire course of my life, I do my best to just flow with it and not fight back too hard. Sometimes the chaos of my life overwhelms me and I forget where I am or how I got there. It is in this chaos that I am able to see the true beauty of a list. A list can help you find your way back to whatever place you need to be in your life. A list can give you some direction when you have none; it can give you inspiration when you need to turn your life around.

A list can be a lifesaving thing. It will coax you into trying harder, just so you can scratch off another line of your list. I'm going to share a mini-list with you now. It's a little list of 20 things I'd like to do (or do again) before I die. Sounds a little morbid? Yes, a little. I don't mean this as a bucket list kind of thing; I'm not planning on anything untimely happening. But it could - at any moment my life could be over. By making this simple little list I am reminding myself everyday to do something new, to strive forward with a courageous attitude about my life. Change happens. It's inevitable. But that's no reason you can't still accomplish all the goals you set for yourself; sure some will take longer than others. But that only makes that moment of truth seem so much sweeter in the end.

Here's my little list. I'm interested to hear some of your lists!
(These are in no particular order or arrangement)

1.Speak fluent Spanish.
2.Spend a summer in Australia.
3.Write a novel or a novel series.
4.Make biscuits from scratch.
5.Swim with manatees.
6.Open up a B&B.
7.Break a Guinness record.
8.Own a farm.
9.Bake biscuits from scratch.
10. Get married
11. Save someone’s life.
12. Finish reading the Vampire Chronicles by Anne Rice.
13. Learn to French-braid hair.
14. Drive cross country in my grand-daddy’s old car.
15. Skydive over the Midwest.
16. Learn to knit.
17. Visit Alaska and Hawaii.
18. Own my own LLC or small business.
19. Send my children to college.
20. Do a cartwheel.

mostly gibberish

I've been a bad, bad blogger! It's been far too many days since I updated the ole girl here, and for that I feel ashamed. But unlike most of my weekends that consist of a steady flow of time, tv and not much at all - this past weekend was fast paced and very go, go, GO! Let me put it this way: usually I fill my car up on Friday after work, and I don't have to fill it back up until the following Friday. I filled up Friday, today is Monday, and I'm already down to 1/4 of a tank. It's been CRAZY. And by crazy I mean FUN.

Graduation was wonderful - all except for the fact that I graduated with my cap on backwards and NOBODY TOLD ME. Well, almost nobody told me. I got two feet from the stage in front of the entire crowd, and my dad starts giving me the "backwards" signal. Nice, real nice. I'm probably the only person at MECC to graduate with their cap turned the wrong way: that looks real smart, doesn't it? I feel so edumacated.

All in all, the weekend was fabulous. I'd write more on it, but honestly I'm too tired to even think. As if the weekend wasn't enough of a whirlwind, I decided that last night around 10:00 was the perfect time to start reading Eclipse. STUPID! See, that college degree does not protect a person from retarded late-night reading decisions! My professors lied to me!!! :) I stayed up until around 1:30 or so - I had to make myself put the book down and go to sleep! So, right now, I'm running on Sprite for sugar and Twitter for caffiene. Think it'll work? I'm doubting it.

I promise to be better and blog more coherently when I'm not in this downward slump!

i'ma graduating

As of this Friday, I will be a college graduate. THIS a.k.a. MY LIFE is nowhere near what I thought it'd be at the time of my graduation. I never once imagined it'd take me three years to get at a two-year degree. I never once imagined I'd look out into the crowd on graduation day and see my toddler daughter looking back at me. I would've never dreamt I'd be on the edge of getting married with a baby already here and only an Associates degree to hang on the wall of our 1970s trailer. THIS is not at all how I pictured my life to look like come graduation time.

BUT this is my life. And I love it. In the few short years since my high-school graduation my life has done a 180. I am a completely different person with completely different goals for myself. Is that a bad thing? Absolutely not. Sometimes I feel bad because I'm graduating with the lowest possible college degree out there. More than likely, I won't be graduating with honors. Having a baby in the middle of a semester kind of kills your G.P.A. This graduation looks nothing like my first; I was almost in the top 10 of my class, and I did graduate with honors. I realize those cords around my neck won't make or break me, and I should be incredibly proud of myself for coming this far (and believe me, I am). It's just a different feeling this time-around. I think it's all because I'm a parent now; my feelings are always complicated and messy and never complete. As much as I want to feel sorry for myself for being such an example of education, I'm too proud of myself for making it this far and setting a good example for no one other than my daughter. At the same time, I can't feel overjoyed because I know that I didn't do 110% to the best of my ability.

I am proud of myself. I am so happy to be getting this degree on Friday. And who knows, my grades from this semester might be stellar enough to push my GPA back up into honors territory. No matter what, though, I am going to hold my head high and walk across that stage Friday happy to be a college graduate. Even if it's not how I imaged it'd be. Even though my audience is a little bigger (if only one bigger) than I expected. I am so happy to have made it to this point in my life, and I cannot wait to keep pushing further and reach all of my education goals...for me, for my family and especially for SidMo.

vacation: all I ever wanted

You cannot begin to imagine how stoked I am to be going to Florida at the end of May! I have been wanting to go on a vacation for so long now. I want to go somewhere I don't normally go, and Florida is definitely that place! I haven't been in YEARS, and I've only ever been about three times in my entire life. I'm so excited, you don't even comprehend.

I get to take this amazing vacay with my bestest buddies Dobby & Miranda - and BIG FUN: SidMo is coming, too! I'm so excited to take her to the beach, even though I know she'll probably be terrified and she won't be able to remember her first time to the beach. I have this issue about memories for Sidney; it's like I want her "first time" for everything to be super-special and for everyone to be present to bear witness to her new findings. I feel a little guilty that her sweet Daddy can't come with us, but knowing him - he'd much rather take her to the beach when she's at an age where she'll love every second of it and can actually remember the trip entirely. So as much as I am excited, I'm also a little sad he can't tag along, too.

I'm also really REALLY nervous about taking SidMo on a plane; our flight is only supposed to last about an hour, but the mere thought of being cooped up in a tiny space with a potentially horrid toddler is terrifying!!! I've been asking people on twitter and cafemom to lend me their opinions and give me all the tips/tricks they know for traveling on a plane with a toddler. If you've got anything to share, please feel free to do so! I want to make this plane ride as smooth as possible for my little one - if she starts having problems with her ears like I've had so many times in the past, I'm pretty sure I'll just collapse right there on the plane from misery. I can't stand the thought of her poor ears hurting and me being helpless with nothing to do for her!

Other than those mixed emotions of nervousness, excitement and sadness I'm rip roaring and ready to go! Florida is going to be hot and humid and breezy and fun: and I absolutely cannot wait to soak up that summer sun by the beach!!!

puppy update

As of this past Saturday, the puppies are now three weeks old. They're living outside now, full-time in the pen. Minnie can get in and out freely, but we've set it up so they can't escape. Their little milk teeth are starting to come in, so the weening will begin soon. Mom has this crazy recipe for what we call "gravy"; it's some combination of goat milk, eggs, Karo syrup and God only knows what else. They seem to love it; and it fattens them up like little butterballs. We line the pen with cedar shavings; it makes the puppies smell amazing. That'd be my one tip for other dog breeders or for people who have to pen their dogs up outside for any reason - line their pens with cedar shavings! You will NOT regret it; it's worth every penny!

Justin & I had been thinking about keeping one of the puppies for ourselves; this makes the second go-around we've had with the puppy debate. He wants a "hunting dog" and he thinks a Basset would be a good choice; I know better than that. The only thing a Basset is going to "hunt" is the couch, the food bowl and the belly rub. Other than that, they're pretty much useless. These puppies aren't any better, I'm afraid. They love to be loved on! Sidney doesn't have the loveliest touch when it comes to playing with the puppies, but she tries. She's like a little mama duck always keeping her babies huddled together. They tolerate her for now; in a couple weeks it will be on like donkey kong! She'll be at the mercy of a Basset Hound brigade!

I took some pics of SidMo and the puppies; they were too adorable not to share. You have to admit, they're pretty darn cute! (SidMo's not too bad either...)






















Sometimes words aren't enough. The cuteness just has to speak for itself!

she's a rockstar...who picks her nose.

First of all, let me just say I LOVE MY DAUGHTER. I know, it's kind of redundant and boring to hear, but I totally do. Do you want to know why? I'll tell you: my kid is awesome. I wish I was half as awesome as my SidMo. She is a rockstar. She's hilarious. She is a humanitarian. Where is all this coming from? Indulge me in a few short stories.

Thursday night, we stayed with Daddy (it's complicated but it won't be for very much longer...we'll all be moving in together in the next two weeks or so). Justin is what you'd call a manly-man. He burps. He farts. He picks his nose and scratches his balls. He's just your typical average-A kind of guy. Well, SidMo is picking up on his lovely manbeast habits. She walks around constantly with her hand down the back of her pants. She sticks her finger up her nose just because she can. And she loves to fart - she'll hold a fart long enough to come find me or Justin so that we can be sure to HEAR THE FART.

"Hear that, woman? I can FART! What do you have to say about that?!"

So we're staying with Daddy, the three of us piled up in the bed watching some ridiculously insane cartoon about someone named Flapjack (I'd never seen it before); Justin and SidMo are curled up together, their fingers up their own noses, laughing hysterically about God knows what. They get the BRILLIANT idea to hold me down and pick my nose. Justin pins me against the mattress; SidMo starts sticking her fingers up my nose. The more I scream and thrash about, the harder they laugh. I seriously thought my child was going to die from laughing too hard. Her entire body was shaking from the giggles and she could barely see my face from all the tears running down her cheek. Her partner in crime a.k.a her father was also laughing to the point he collapsed on the bed and they spent a good 20 minutes absorbing their triumph. HA FREAKING HA. You just taught our child to rape her mother's nose cavities and now you're laughing about it??! Well...I guess it is a little funny. This is the moment I realize my child is going to be the prankster, the jester of the family. HELP. US. ALL.

That's one story down.

Today SidMo and I went to the mall, which for some ungodly reason is now being called the town centre. I'd be more accepting of this change if they didn't spell "center" like we're in mid-century England or something! Moving on - SidMo and I went to pick up mine and Justin's wedding bands and to mosey around for a Mama's Day gift for Gran a.k.a my mother. We rode the escalator about 97 times and did a good three laps around the mall. When we walked into B&BW I thought she'd go into hysterics. She took two steps inside the store and started going:

"Wotion? Wotion? Wooootttiiiooon!!!!"

You don't understand, my child LOVES lotion. Rub it on her hands, her feet, her back, her legs, her face, whatever! She could play in lotion all day. Well, of course the sales ladies were totally amazed that this half-pint of kid recognized lotion, so they started treating her like the queen of Sheba. She got about 34 free samples of different kinds of lotion and moisturizer. Anything she wanted, they'd pull off the shelf to let her try - even if they didn't have a sampler bottle sitting out somewhere. You would've thought she was Grand Poobha of B&BW! SidMo, of course, indulged everyone with little "oohs" and "aahs" and was even disapproving of some of the lotions they tried on her. In the meantime, I was running around trying to find something for Gran (something in warm vanilla sugar, because that's the only "flavor" that is acceptable). When the shopping was done and we went to leave, SidMo waved to her servants and even threw them a measly kiss over her shoulder; you would've thought that a rockstar was leaving the premises. They huddled by the door waving at her, making her promise to "Come back soon! We'll have more lotion samples for you next time! Byeeeeee!" PEOPLE, PLEASE. She's not even 2! Don't fill her head full of hot air yet (her father will only teach her to blow it out the other end at this point!)

So we go to Garfield's to eat because it's the only decent place to eat at the mall; plus it has the paper on the tables so the kids (and the Mommas) can draw on them with crayons. We're sitting there waiting for the food to come out, and SidMo decides she wants to dance. The only music I had available was the ringtones on my phone; she chooses "What's Your Name" by Lynyrd Skynyrd and proceeds to turn it up and dance in the booth. It wasn't good enough that only she was dancing; she had the table next to us dancing. And the waitress. And even me. She's a rockstar, ladies and gentlemen. Her mood is contagious. She treats most people around her like little peasants; but they all bend their knees to worship at her feet. And honestly, she wouldn't have it any other way.

rain rain, go away

It's been raining pretty much non-stop for three days now. And I'm beyond sick of it. I hate the rain and all its wetness. It makes for groggy days and soggy yards. Yesterday the sun actually came out in the afternoon and SidMo and I were able to get out and play in the pool of rain water standing in the yards.





You think that's weird? Maybe. We tried to go play in the creek that runs behind the house, but it was gushing for once in it's miserable life and we couldn't go near it. The horse fields were too mushy to get down and run around in, so we couldn't play with Jack. Both of us were bored to tears from being cooped up inside the past few days, so we found other ways of amusing ourselves.





It reminded me so much of being a kid, growing up down there on that same patch of land. I'm an only child and there weren't any neighborhood kids that I could really play with on a regular basis. Most of the time it was up to me to amuse myself; I cannot tell you how many countless hours I spent roaming around the yards, behind the barn and playing in the creek. We used to have all kinds of animals running around the place: ducks, turkeys, guineas, cats and dogs of all shapes and sizes. At one time, I think we had about 20 cats (until they all started mysteriously dying, but that's another story). My animals were my friends and together we did everything.





Sometimes I feel guilty for not having fancy playgrounds or exciting places to take SidMo on a regular basis to have a little fun. Our nearest Chuck E. Cheese is an hour away. Everything mainstream is an hour or more away. We can go to the playground at the school or hit up the games inside the Pizza Plus, but other than that we've got nothing. But that's okay - sometimes having nothing makes you see the beauty in everything.





As Sidney continues to grow and learn more about the world around her, I hope that I'm able to show her the fun side to everything in life. I hope I can teach her that being by yourself doesn't always mean you're alone. When I was a kid, we used to have to mow our nearly 1 acre tract of yard two times a week. It took forever and it was beyond boring - but up on that lawn mower I found my creative side. I'd monologue out entire plays and talk to myself like a total lunatic. I'd make up songs and sing them at the top of my lungs. I was free to be creative and free to hear myself be creative out loud. Sure, it was all while I was sitting on a lawn mower and no one could hear me - but I could hear me. When no one else could, I learned to listen to myself.





SidMo has got such potential to be amazing - I know she's going to do great things. And even if those great things aren't recognized by the world, I'll always know she's great. I've seen her grow from day one. I've been listening to her find her own voice and watching her follow her own feet. Right now she's in this little bubble that is her homegrown life; someday she might expand her borders and travel the world. But for now, she's got the yard and the barn and the creek to keep her busy. It's always been enough for me. I hope it's always going to be enough for her.

SidMo

As of today, SidMo is exactly 20 months old. I've felt this emotion before when she transitioned from 9 months to 10 months - she went from single to double digits in a day's time. Now she's gone from the 1's to the 2's, even though she's not technically 2 yet. But it's coming - it's just up ahead and to the left. Before I know it, I'll be putting 3's in front of the numbers. It's an odd feeling, watching her grow and realizing I can do absolutely nothing to stop the clock. She's changed so much in just a short 20 months, I can't imagine what the years will do to her.

But it's only a matter of time before the years have come and gone. I know this, even if she doesn't yet. And I'll remember this part of her life, even if she can't. These days don't really belong to her - they're more for my benefit than hers. Someday she'll have her own memory, her own life. But for now, I am her memories. I am her life. And I'm doing my absolute best to make it the best life I can for her. Happy 20 months SidMo - I love you, kid.



from a summer baby making my feet swell and my back hurt...

...to a 7 lb. cutie with a head full of hair and perfect skin...

...and now a dynamite toddler with even crazier hair and a smile to make me melt.

our puppies

Our second litter of Basset Hound puppies turned 2 weeks old yesterday. Finally all of them opened their eyes and their ears are starting to take a big turn south. They're looking more and more like Bassets and less and less like wet rats every day. Of course, SidMo loves the puppies. She didn't enjoy the last litter too much because she was only about 8 months old, but this time she knows where they are and she adores them! We have 11 squirmy puppies for her to love on and enjoy and so far, she's soaking up every second of their existence. I'm only dreading the days when we start to sell them and she has to say "good-bye". How do you explain that to an almost-2 year old? Here's some cute pictures of her first real puppy experience from this weekend. Her touch is not what most would call "gentle"...












To learn more about the most awesome breed that is the Basset Hound, click HERE.

judge me not

I don't want anyone to read this and think I'm creepy. I don't judge other Momma's and their ways so don't judge mine. I'll just come out and say it: Sidney and I take baths together. Now I have a list of the positives and negatives that go along with this.

PROS:
1. We are being greener by conserving water.
2. She lets me turn the jets on - it's a hot, bubble bath with jets!
3. We have SO MUCH FUN!
4. She's 100% safe - I'm right there with her and not tempted to walk away for anything.
5. It's educational on a million different levels...
CONS:
1. She's curious - very curious.
2. Sometimes she pees right in the middle of bathtime.
3. She's bossy - doesn't share her bathtoys with me!
4. It makes me 10x sleepier than I should be at 8:00.

So we take baths together - and this may be a totally "normal" thing that I don't know about. But most people start giving me the eye as soon as I begin a story with "Last night when Sidney and I were taking our bath..."

It was during last night's bath that I realized what my SidMo is destined to grow up and become when she's older: a massuese (or massage therapist). She's developed this new curiousity for my back...maybe it's the tattoo back there, I don't know. She forces me to sit up in the tub and then proceeds to rub/massage my back. It's fantastic! She's a miracle child! It's like she knows all the techniques - she'll rub straight up and down my spine, then do little circles on my shoulder blades. She'll even massage my neck below my hair. AND SHE GETS MAD IF I MAKE HER STOP. What kind of heaven-sent angel do I have here people? I almost feel guilty for suggesting bathtime because I know she's going to "work" instead of "play". But to her it is play - all the bubbles end up on top her head after she gets done with my back (I don't even have to shampoo her head anymore)! My child is amazing - and if you think this is weird, then I'm sorry. But as long as she's willing to give Momma a free massage then I'm not stopping her...would you? :)


can you blame us for loving bathtime so much when the tub is so big?!