We got a new puppy. I know, I know, don't ask. Let's just say that 1) I've put a cap on allowing any other living, breathing, pooping creatures in the house, and 2) the next time I go into Wal-Mart and there's a man standing near the door with a box of puppies that he says he'll give to the pound if they don't find homes, I will turn around, get back in my car, and not allow myself to leave the house until I'm sure that I can shop without homeless puppies being waved in my face. Her name is Caramel because she looks like caramel. Sometimes I call her Mello. I must say, Chris and the kids are doing a wonderful job taking care of her. Claire even cleaned up after her this morning. They take turns taking her outside and everything. I told them that a new puppy means there will be more responsibility so things have to shape up around here. (notice that I included Chris in this number) It's like the puppy was a catalyst to make them all more responsible for picking up after themselves and helping me take care of the pets. I was kind of beating myself up over the weekend because I thought, "Damn it, just when I reduce the stress in my life, I invite more back in," HOWEVER I've dealt with it well! By putting other people to work!
Here are random thoughts I've had lately:
I wonder if either Emma or Claire will grow up to be one of those girls who gets breast implants and then walks around asking everyone to feel them. If they think their father and I are buying them breasts they're crazy. I didn't eat well for nine months of gestation, nurse them, and take them to the doctor regularly just so they can shove silicon up their chests, they need to work with the boob DNA they got.
Last week's snow has taught us some things. First, snow is wet. Second, snow is cold. Third, cotton gloves and tennis shoes provide no protection from the cold, wet snow, and I can only enjoy a snowball fight for so long before my hands and feet go numb.
Tattoos are great, but honestly, there's a limit. Man who went through tattoos and surgeries to become a tiger, I'm looking at you! http://freaksblog.com/stalking-cat/
Sometimes, do you ever, like, just stand there in the middle of a room and look down at how far your feet are from your head and think, "Jesus, I'm tall. It's almost like my legs don't stop at the toes, they just keep on going." Yeah, I have those thoughts sometimes too.
Sometimes I can't enjoy good writing because it makes me jealous. There, I said it, it's out.