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.

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.

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.

Jam or Jelly...is 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.

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)

Stop Raining, Already!!

Rain, rain, go away, come again another day. (ya know, when it’s not the weekend!!) I know, I know, it’s only Wednesday. But it is projected to rain through the weekend. Which means that it will have rained every weekend since Memorial Day. I look forward to the summer all year. It’s a precious short 3 months…if that. Weep with me people. (of course I am fully aware that my life is cake compared to those poor people along any body of water in western Illinois or eastern Iowa, or those people in Wisconsin that were on the Today show whose dream house just slid into a lake and now have about, say, 1% of their land left…or Southern IN or Southern IL, although Chicago news doesn't report much on them, but I still like to complain) So rain gods? Help me out here. Just water the crops during the week, let us poor office folk enjoy our weekends. Thank you.

Oh...the shame!

Last night, Workaholic had to work the night shift, so I was alone. I watched my TiVo’d shows, and then got bored. After talking to a couple of friends, one of whom had to put her child in time-out for throwing a broom handle at her (he denied it sooo adamantly, even though she saw him do it), I realized that my cleaning lady was coming today. Now this is pretty much embarrassing for me, seeing as how I work, but don’t do much else. I don’t even cook much; I consider it a victory if there are SmartOnes and Stouffers’ in the freezer, and bread and pb&j in the pantry. So after taking a quick look around at the house, I decided that I needed to pick up before she came. Yes, I am one of those people.

After an hour of cleaning, my house is ready to be cleaned. Pathetic. AND, I vacuumed. What is wrong with me??