My Main Man

Okay, so I was looking at the cute little guy on the right of the page laying on the couch and thought I'd tell you a little bit more about what goes on in Kusa's head. I tend not to write as much about him because as they say the squeaky wheel gets the grease. But Kusa is a hippy at heart, loving everyone (cannot comprehend why anyone would not love him whole-heartedly in return), loving life...peace man. Kusa has a few draw backs but they are generally less intrusive to my everyday existence than the bitch's. He has an obsession that rivals her drive for food and his is Kleenex. Kusa will do anything to get a Kleenex, new is fine but crumpled and used is THE BEST! He will dive into jacket pockets (while your wearing the jacket and walking) without relent until he gets them, and beleive he can smell them because he will go for you as soon as you put them there. If I gave Kusa a steak on one plate and a Kleenex on another I have no doubt he would go for the Kleenex first. And so his garbage diving is not in the kitchen but in the bedrooms and bathrooms which he only has access to when the bitch decides "Screw this crap, if the baby gets to be upstairs so do I" and stealthily opens the baby gate on the stairs and invites herself up to the dog-free zone (normally she plays along pretending that the baby gate poses some sort of intectually superior locking mechanism just to keep us happy but more often now her patience wears thin and she puts her prison-break skills to work to open the bolted and pressure mounted device. If Mayson doesn't figure this out that means Chiantra is smarter than her...I digress). And so his big crime is leaving chewed up Kleenexs strewn about the second floor about once a week, minor in comparison to coffee grind and chicken grease on the kitchen floor at 6am.

Kusa is generally too lazy to cause trouble. He won't open the baby gate on the stairs because he is both scared of it and too lazy to think about how to do it. Why think about gate hardware when you can sleep on the couch? He loves to come camping but prefers to hang out in the truck rather than lie in the dirt. He really truly beleives that all furniture is made for dogs and humans alike and prefers lawnchairs/picnic tables when out for a picnic or an ice cream at the park.

His most favorite thing to do is go to the off leash park and run like a maniac as fast as possible but his vigor only lasts about a half hour tops. Then he turns into the origin of the term "doggin it" and plunks along on our trek only as fast as he has to keep up to the two legged members of the family. One time when we were biking there on a hot day he even said "Screw this" and ditched us. After a frantic search of the 100 acres we found him napping in the shade of the truck in the parking lot. That is classic Kusa. All he asks for is a leather couch to sleep on, COLD drinking water (on a rainy day the toilet will do), and food every couple of days. The odd used Kleenex is a treat. He loves to curl up (on his back with all fours in the air) with you on the couch, he hates swimming (but loves to wade in thick sticky mud), is always game for a run/walk (but not too long please, and not when it's too hot, oh, and not in the rain), and almost never barks (Chiantra please note this last one). True his fear of certain cloudy skies (haven't nailed down which clouds are the problem) have inhibited him from leaving the house which can be annoying, and his fear of umbrellas is quite ridiculous. But I can vacuum him from head to toe and he wags his tail. He loves all other dogs (oh and Chiantra, did I mention he NEVER barks??) and enjoys a good glass of champagne or chardonnay. He loves Mayson, too much to the point of licking her face with such vigor that he knocks her over but she is used to it now and doesn't cry anymore when he does. All in all, he is a really easy dog to live with. He doesn't ask for much and gives more love than I can ever return. That's my man.

So it seems Chiantra is the real star of my blog. People are overly amused at my personal losses of Tupperware (yes brand name overpriced Tupperware that I can still not refrain from buying despite my OCD food-motivated bitch) and the like. So I suppose I should say something about her since I really haven't for the past while. And why have I not. Because for a short span of time she has been tamed. I have found a cure for her food-stealing obsession and that cure is called surgery. Yes, that's right, on May 30, my dear bitch got her womanhood ripped from her in the serenity of general anesthesia. I cried, yes I really did. I don't know if I was crying for her, or for the thought of her 7 beautiful puppies being the only ones she will ever have. Maybe it was because I thought I would of loved to have one of her puppies but since I will never have more than two dogs that would never happen (we freeze dog sperm so we can have pups from dead males but have not gone that far off the deep end to start freezing eggs and doing IVF with surrogate bitches). And that got me thinking about my dogs getting older and how I, and now Mayson, would cope with their deaths. I never thought of having to explain that to a child when I got the dogs. Maybe I cried because I think about my own reproductive years and how as hard as the last day of breastfeeding is now, how hard will it be when you know it is your last time ever or that you are pregnant for the last time. But who knows, maybe I was pregnant for the last time already, we can not bank on the future.
So yes, the bitch go spayed and I think they took a little part of her brain out that was labelled "sanity" because she has been a "crazy bitch" ever since. Barking like a maniac (yeah, way more than usual, even at us for like the first 5 minutes we are home), snarling at Kusa (but really he deserves it), and holing up in her kennel (her "house"). Anyway, I am giving her some lee-way (how the heck do you write that?) that she is playing the wounded dog role but seriously she better snap out of it soon or....
You know she is crazy when she hasn't stolen any food for 2 weeks. Well, I did forget about this weekend when my mom, who was in from GP for Mayson's birthday, heard her garbage diving in the middle of the night (metal garbage can with step on lid make lots of noise when you open lid with nose and let it drop closed). Anyway, apparently the paper plates from Mayson's birthday party were too much to resist so she had all 20 of them pulled out and chewed up, along with all the fruit debris and drinks. I love waking up to the usual party aftermath only to find my feet sticking to the kitchen floor whilst trying to get a crying toddler her breakfast, preparing for a second birthday, and hosting out of town company on an early Sunday morning. That is my idea of a good time. And so thanks to Chiantra it WAS a good weekend afterall. So that is all she has managed to muster the energy for lately. I do hope she continues on with her new and improved behaviour but I know better than to hope for the sky to turn green. So worry not dear readers, you can take away her womanhood but you can never get her bitch-hood.

Loser Blogger, Better Mommy and Friend

Okay, I am a loser. I haven't been posting as regularly as I want to. I have these thoughts trailing through my head all the time but never the time to get them in here. Then when I have a moment I can't remember what I wanted to say. I promise to post more regularly. I promise to run more. I promise to eat less chocolate. I promise to moisturize my feet every night before bed. I promise to floss with enthusiasm. I promise to walk my dogs daily. I promise to fold the laundry when it comes out of the dryer so it doesn't get wrinkled from sitting in the laundry basket for a week. I promise to scoop the cat's litter more often. I promise to plan meals ahead of time and cook supper every night. I promise to delete my emails. I promise to clean my windows. I promise to read more. I promise to finish that baby blanket I've been crocheting for the past year.
Today I went and saw my friends and their new baby in the hospital. My baby turned one on Sunday. More to come.

A Big Step

Well, I've been a little lazy with posting lately between hosting a baby shower, refinishing my deck, having the bitches spayed (poor thing), planning two birthday parties for Mayson's first this weekend AND heading back to work (part-time, I'm very lucky). So this is sort of sad excuse for a post and likely not my best work but I promise to get something more meaningful up soon. As for going back to work after maternity leave I have just a few words to say. No I am not miserable, no I wasn't dreading it, and yes I am fine. True, I did have the expected anxiety attacks and fits of tears about three weeks before the big day but I sat my self down and said this to myself:
You are chosing to go back to work. If you really have a big problem with it, if you REALLY don't want to go back don't. Here's the thing, you are CHOOSING to go back. Yes you can say you have to because of money but really, there is no have to. You choose to WANT the money so that you can keep living in your house, and paying for your SUV, and driving your SUV despite gas prices of 112.5 cents per liter (went down to 106 now, yipee) and taking holidays. So don't be miserable. Make your choice to work or not work. If you are miserable only you can help yourself out of that. And that goes for everything by the way, don't mope about where you are at. Don't be uptight about getting the laundry done everyday, love that you are at home with your baby and stop and play with her on the living room floor. Because you are where you are, so why not love it.

And so I said "Self, good point. Thank you for being so smart and keeping me grounded and focused on what I really should be." And I went to work and I had a nice day and I came home and hugged my smiling baby and we were both very happy. Okay, so that's the highlights, yes I did miss her and yes I would have cried in the driveway of my sis-in-law's place after I dropped her off had it not been for the fact that I was carpooling with my friend, and yes I did crave to sit down on my office floor and sing "This Old Man" while patting my knees a couple of times through the day, but all in all it was okay. I now I think it gives me a great excuse to buy new clothes, this whole working thing, so it really isn't all bad.
Now I must go to bed, which I am excited about because I got a new coffee maker and when I get up I get to have coffee from my new Cuisinart Brew Station, YEAH!

Chiantra's total since last post:
-garbage diving one night found a few treats
-one brand name over-priced Tupperware lunch microwavable container from the counter by the sink (got a little left over shepherd's pie)