Wednesday, July 30, 2008

Im-Proper Dog Etiquette

So I have a request to talk about the lake, and also a request to not be depressing. Ooo-kkkaaay. Let’s try.

So on Sunday, we decided to go out on the water, and of course, The Fonz was the first on the boat. (If we leave the dock without him, he has actually been known to jump off the pier and swim after the boat) If you can’t tell from his picture, he really is a handsome devil. Some might even say “pretty.” He is the happiest damn dog, and he is even happier when he is digging for rocks, or chasing rocks, or swimming around in random circles. (hey…easily entertained means less work for me-eee)

So here he is, swimming around in circles, happily, and he doesn’t even seem to mind the young energetic Labradoodle and her mom who are getting in his rock digging way. Then, another boat pulls up. (key in doomy music now) And another dog gets into the water. And the young energetic Labradoodle runs for the hills. Meaning, she promptly hides behind her mom and gets as far away from the new dog as possible. I am not really paying a whole lot of attention, I figure Fonz will become snobby soon enough and go play by himself, as he tends to do. Suddenly, there is growling. Oh dear.

Turns out, new dog likes to hump. Hence why Labradoodle ran (or swam, as the case may be). He humps anything that moves. He’d hump a swaying tree. Now would be a good time to explain why Fonz being pretty hasn’t exactly always worked out for him. Ever since he was a year old and I would take him to dog parks, he would get molested. Not the dominating, I am bigger than you, humping. The “I WANT YOU AND AM GOING TO TAKE YOU AND LATCH ON AND NEVER LET GO!!! YOU ARE MINE!!!!” type of molesting. And finally, much to my surprise and delight, he got sick of it. He started showing his teeth. That didn’t faze the horndogs. Then he would growl. They might back off, but then they’d be back with a renewed vengeance and determination, circling and stalking and behaving as though they were cat burglers. Finally, if he snaps and tries to bite, they back off long enough for me to get between them and chastise their owners for having rude dogs. (because I don’t care what you say, a dog mounting another dog is NOT appropriate)

I told new dog’s owner (who I really like BTW) that if his dog is going to hump, there WILL be a dog fight on our hands. He promptly removed his dog from the water. BUT, later, he approached Workaholic and said, “So, your dog is really aggressive huh?” As if it was Fonz that was the problem. (Ummm…yeah no) Talk about confused. Workaholic looked at him as if he was Mars and we all were on Earth, and it slowly dawned on him, the earlier growling. And thankfully, he retorted, “Not unless he is being humped. He doesn’t like that.” HA!! Inappropriate!!

Moral of the story?? If your dog humps, I feel bad for you. But don’t laugh or think that it’s funny…because I won’t be paying any vet bills for any damage that Fonz inflicts. If I was getting humped by some horny lesbian chick, you’d bet I’d bite too!!

Friday, July 25, 2008


Do you ever have those dreams where you wish you wouldn’t wake up? Or those ones where you desperately want to wake up and then you do, and you are wide awake and afraid to go back to sleep? Yeah…I’ve been having those lately. One of them involved wolves, another a roller coaster, there was a marathon shopping spree filled with drugs and sex. And last night? Last night, the world was coming to an end. By way of the destruction of all Marriotts and Hiltons. Violently. I am fairly certain my boyfriend and I saved the world, but I’m not sure what happened after that. Don’t ask me where I get this stuff.

The thing is, I have always loved sleep. When I was little, I had a really hard time falling asleep, but once I was there, I never wanted to leave. I do remember nightmares about the Incredible Hulk and the brown walls of my bedroom spinning, and going in and laying on the floor next to my mom in her bedroom. But I also remember the time when my sister’s friend from down the street burst into our bedroom at 7:50am when the bus came at 8:10, and we were both dead in our bed. And no, mom did not let us skip that day or take us…we had to go. I am pretty sure I tried the “My stomach hurts” line, but she kicked us out the door. All I wanted was a couple more hours sleep!!!

Thinking back, I was rarely ever actually sick. But I hated getting out of bed and going to school. So I would know exactly how many sick days I had, and calculated when I wanted to use them. I made sure that they were evenly spaced, not taken too close together, so no one would get suspicious. And when I wanted to stay home, well, my stomach hurt. I am pretty sure I even did this in elementary school…I never understood those kids who strived for the “perfect attendance” record. What was the point? (a little certificate you got a the awards ceremony at the end of the school year) This has carried over into my adult life…I am very careful about taking my vacation days, but the difference is that when I am sick, I am usually actually sick. Unless I want to go shopping or the beach. But don’t tell my new boss that!!

Friday, July 18, 2008


You will all be glad to know that I am feeling much much better. I still get a little nauseous if I don’t eat, or if I drink too much of one thing, but other than that, all is well. (no emergency trips to my new frenemy, the porcelain god) I did finally cave and buy a new pair of jeans, one size up, even though I don’t think I’ve actually gained any weight?? How exactly does that work? I am looking forward to this weekend…although the exact plans have yet to be laid. Can we still be this spontaneous when we have a kid?

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

I Really Thought I was Doomed

If you haven’t noticed, I am a bit nervous about this baby thing. I haven’t really gotten to the part in my head where I actually have it/him/her yet, so I’ve been reading tons of books about pregnancy. And the one thing they all go on and on about is morning sickness. And the one thing they all say is that you are pretty safe/lucky if you get out of the first trimester without experiencing it. Meaning, you won’t get it.

So imagine my surprise, when, at 15 weeks, I felt nauseous. I mean, it was sitting in my throat all day, right there, just bursting to come out…I couldn’t eat, I got no work done, and I slept after leaving work early just to keep it at bay. That was Monday. Tuesday, I thought I would be smart and head it off, so I ate as soon as I got out of bed, but once I got to work, it kept getting worse. Around 11am, I gave up and trekked down to the 3rd floor, which is unoccupied, and girls? If you ever notice that I have disappeared for an extremely long time, you might want to check the third floor to make sure I didn’t fall and hit my head and am lying bleeding, never to be found. Because really...there is no more private place in the building than the bathroom on an unoccupied floor. Just be careful if you get seasick in the elevator. (yes, it can happen)

The first time I yakked wasn’t so bad. It was when I had to run down there after I ate lunch where I was shaking and crying and had puke all over myself because apparently, if you vomit violently enough, it’ll just bounce right up out of the porcelain god back at you. (this is something new to me…I am usually a very clean puker...then again, that is for hangovers, and there is nothing but remnants of alcohol in your stomach at that point) (speaking of hangovers, I have the worst. Meaning I get all nauseous and have to throw up at least 10-12 times before I can even consider putting food into my stomach...I had figured that since I was cursed with such terrible hangovers, that someone upstairs had decided to go easy on the morning sickness)

I had to have looked awful, because the two office gossips chose this moment to ask me “How was I doing? And have I been sick? And when am I due? And are we going to find out what it is??” Please, kill me now. (wait, that is a terrible thing to say consider I am an incubator right now) Can’t you see that I am shaking and pale and have been crying?? Leave me alone!!

Even though I had a sore throat Sunday night, and the nausea was non-stop and laying down was the only thing that helped, (as long as I was in my own bed, of course…the little bench on the 3rd floor is a crappy substitute), I never believed that it was possible that I had a bug. Everyone kept telling me, “Call the doctor.” And say what? I am nauseous and vomiting and can’t eat. Yeah, that’s called being pregnant. I was sure that I had been cursed with the “morning sickness” and that I was doomed to be sick for the next 6 months and that I was not going to survive it. OK, I’ll admit it, I am a wuss. (and perhaps a bit of a drama queen??) But what was really killing me was the headache, it was like an Amtrak train was rolling over my brain. I finally caved and took one Excedrin on Tuesday night.

So before leaving work only 20 minutes early Tuesday, I e-mailed my wonderful husband a grocery list. Which consisted of things like chicken noodle soup and Gatorade and 7-Up and saltine crackers. And I got home and proceeded to cry and puke some more…but that was after having to pull over on the way home to projectile vomit out the car door, because who has the foresight to unbuckle your seat belt??

Fortunately, I was able to hold down Campbell’s chicken noodle soup, just the plain stuff, and 7-Up around 8:30 Tuesday night. And by 10pm, I was able to walk down a flight of stairs without stopping at the toilet first. I took the day off yesterday and thankfully, was vomit-free…although, to be fair, I was horizontal most of the day. In the evening, I started to feel normal again, you know, not pregnant?? But around bed-time, the headache and nauseau started to attempt to make a comeback. I killed it with a Tylenol PM. (yes, I can have that, it's just Tylenol and Benadryl)

So I would officially like to thank my mother and the advertising people at Campbell’s around 1984. My mother, for buying the stuff and teaching me how to make it in the microwave, and telling me to eat it whenever I got sick, and the Campbell’s people for telling me that if I ever got sick or cold, to eat their soup. The brainwashing totally works…it’s been all I’ve eaten all day. And it is the only thing that I’ve eaten in the past 2 days that hasn’t come back up. I even brought it for lunch today, a minute and thirty seconds from my little bowl of heaven.

Monday, July 14, 2008

Old pictures

I know I’ve blogged about Henry before, my little foster dog who died of cancer last Christmas, and my friend recently stumbled across some pictures of me and him. Our goal in getting these taken was to post them on the Adopt A Lab website, but we couldn’t get any good ones where I wasn’t in the picture! It seems like so long ago, and I look sooo young, and I think I am going to get my hair done like that again. Pathetic little thing, he was.

Thursday, July 10, 2008

My Fonz

OK, so one thing that really bugs me about being pregnant is when everyone tells you how your life is going to change. Duh…I have eight nieces and nephews and too many cousins to count. I know that it is going to change my life; otherwise I wouldn’t have been hit by a truck when the little stick showed a plus sign.

But what really bugs me is when people tell me that my dog will become nothing to me after the baby is born. Obviously, I love my dog, as the title of my blog is Home Is Where the Dog Is. And obviously, I know that I will love my kid more than my dog. But I fully expect that while I am at home for three months on maternity leave, my Fonz will be by my side. When the child is sleeping soundly in my arms, (because it will never ever cry endlessly), he will be there for me to pet and reflect on how great my life is. When I am up at 3am feeding or changing diapers or walking the floorboards (because I am quite sure that my child will cry endlessly), he will be up with me, keeping an eye on me, reminding me that our life is still pretty great. When I nap, he will nap with me. It’s just the way he is.

Most people don’t understand the bond that Fonz and I have. He was there when I got my first job, and I had to leave him 12 hours a day, and I had my own house, which I bought all by myself. (he’s the reason I bought the stupid house in the first place!!) He was the only one there when Workaholic moved 1300 miles away and I was left all alone in a town with no friends or family. He was there with me on 9-11, when I watched hours of TV. He was there in Florida, when I didn't know a soul, but I went to a dog park and got a job from it. He was there after we moved home from Florida and Workaholic was here and I went to Purdue. (we kept ourselves busy by rollerblading on campus every day and running the trails at McCormick’s Woods) He was there while we were building our house and I didn’t have a “real” job. He was there when we got engaged (in fact, he’s an important reason why we got engaged that night), and he was there when we were planning our wedding, and he was there on our wedding day.

He’s a calming presence to me, a grounding reminder that there is more to life than just myself. (a wise friend of mine actually told me that he has been a good training tool for being a mother) He has been there for me when my friends were sick of hearing me cry, when my sisters were too far away and I thought loneliness would just take over my soul.

So don’t you dare tell me that he’ll mean nothing to me after this baby is born. My heart is big enough for the both of them. He will still lay like a king in front of the fireplace, he will still fly off the end of the pier like the champion dock dog that he is. And he will still have a very special place in my heart.

Wednesday, July 9, 2008

Happy Anniversary to Us!!!

I know, I know…it’s been more than a week since I blogged. My mother was commenting to me last night how most of my blogs are kind of depressing. Which would be why I haven’t blogged lately, I’ve been super crabby and whiny and didn’t feel like sharing all that not-feel-goodness with the world. But today is a new day!!

Yesterday was my 2nd wedding anniversary. Lots of times, (OK, the two times I’ve experienced so far) when my anniversary is coming up, all I can think about is the stress in the weeks before the wedding. Our company went through a record-breaking sale the month before, and the week before my wedding was incredibly difficult at work. (which is to say it was hell) Adding to the fact that I was fighting with the chick at the hotel where the reception was to be held. (because she was an idiot) I actually timed-out her boss’s voicemail. (I"m sorry, when I say that I live out of town and can we do this over the phone, is there a reason you didn't write down anything I said????)

But then I think about the wedding itself…which was nerve-wracking in the beginning. Did you know that when you have 300 wedding guests, they all watch you walk down the aisle??!! I mean, I thought dad and I were going to trip or faint. Neither of us do well in front of a crowd. (even though he is a professor) Then you have to go take pictures, wearing a 100 lbs of fabric and it’s 85 degrees out and all you can think of is that these pictures cost a fortune and are going to last for-ever, and you hope that you look happy even though all you can think about is how thirsty you are and OH MY GOD we have to do our choreographed first dance. (yes, our song was Strangers in the Night)

But then…you get to the booze. And you get to relax and visit with people and my dear, dear crazy cousin made fun of the salad with me. And people just keep handing you booze and you never have to stand in line at the bar. And you dance and dance and dance. And so does everyone else. And then your aunt dances on the table. And your parents and your new in-laws tell you they love you. And you party ‘til 4am. And people do whatever you tell them to because it’s your day. And everyone you like in the world is there, partying with you. It was awesome. Totally worth all the stress, and money, and did I mention stress??

My wonderful husband gave me flowers yesterday, which normally, if I get a dozen roses, I am annoyed. But he gave me these!

If you can’t tell, they are roses and some daisies, and other wildflowery looking flowers all mixed together. Just beautiful. And it hadn’t even fully bloomed yet, so they’ll last a while. The timing of the delivery couldn’t have been better, I totally thought I was going to cry…so did my cube-neighbor, in fact, I think she was hoping for it. But I was able to contain myself and showed them off to everyone. All in all, a pretty darn good day.

Wednesday, July 2, 2008

Jam or there really a difference??

After hearing that the strawberry patch where I grew up was closing, I felt the urge to go pick strawberries. No….not, pick them out from the store, but actually pick them. So I missed the season in Lafayette, missed the season in The Region, and finally got to pick little mouthfuls of joy in Michigan. I forced Workaholic out of bed around 11am to go to the strawberry patch down the road a’piece. I was fully planning on only picking a quart or two, but there was just so many! We picked and picked until we got roughly 8 lbs. Which I promptly left on the porch when we left to go home. Thankfully, my in-laws stayed a bit longer than us, and brought home my now almost-rotting strawberries. I made an executive decision…I was to make jam. Or jelly. I am not sure of the difference.

I e-mailed my aunt, since she was inspiration for the picking in the first place, expecting some long, drawn-out recipe that was handed down for generations. It would be complicated, and include directions like, “Add a splish and a splash of (insert ingredient of I have never heard of) and mash with your fingers until mushy. Let sit for days until you forget about it and then throw away, because it probably would’ve sucked anyway.” I am fairly certain that the recipe I got was handed down for generations; I am guessing my whole family uses Sure-Jell. So I made this stuff called freezer jam…which is super easy, has 3 ingredients, (4 if you count water) and takes all of about 10 minutes to make. Smash berries, add sugar, add water and Sure-Jell, mix. Pour into plastic container, (which were so handily stocked right next to the Sure-Jell at the grocery store), and let sit for 24 hours. Then freeze, or refrigerate, whatever floats your boat.

I now am in possession of 10 cups of strawberry jam, which is good for a year, that I have no idea what I am going to do with. I am pretty sure that I didn’t follow the directions when it said to “measure exact amounts of sugar, scrape a knife across the top of the measuring cup, as any difference will affect the ability of jam to set.” So it will probably suck anyway, I’ll just take a year to figure that out. So family? Watch out. You will be forcefully forced to take one cup of strawberry freezer jam, and then tell me that you loved it, and can’t wait until next year when I make more. Friends? As I need you, if you dare, you may have one cup. (family can’t disown you for food poisoning, friends can and will drop you) But I still expect a lie of how wonderful it is.

Tuesday, July 1, 2008

Big News!!

So I have big news that most of you probably know…I’m pregnant!! Yay…Eeks!! Cute little baby…Screaming little baby!! Free stuff at a baby shower…No alcohol for at least nine months, including at the baby shower!! No work for 3 months after baby is born…no sleep for at least 3 months after baby is born!!

OK…deep breaths…huge life change. The COO of our company was almost in tears when he was telling me how wonderful life is once you have kids…I just have to get through this pregnancy and delivery thing. Which is very very very far away. I have a whole summer and Purdue football season and the holidays to get through first.

I am due January 6th, we are hoping I’ll go early so we can get the extra tax deduction. (yes, I am an accountant) Will that really happen? Umm…not unless I can con my doctor into inducing me early. We may or may not find out what sex we are going to have…although if we do find out, I may not tell anyone. It’s got to be much more exciting for everyone when they hear that I have the baby, and then also get to hear what it is! Or maybe we’ll just keep the name a secret, there has to be something. We’re tossing names around, much like I am sure we’ll toss the kid around. My in-laws have said that they are going to have dog tags with the kid’s name and address on it, based on the way that I watch their dog, I mean…let their dog wander through the neighborhood until my neighbors call my in-laws and say that they have their dog. Oops.

So far I have not had morning, noon, or night sickness, although I did get sick and icky feeling last night, 12 hours of sleep helped that. I have been extremely tired. All. The. Time. On Saturday, I took a 2 hour nap, in the middle of the afternoon, on a bright and sunny day. But I just couldn’t, you know, stand up anymore. So I napped.

But it is all very exciting…we are pumped. So be prepared for some good whining blogs on the wonderful joys of pregnancy!! (I apologize in advance)