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Happy Birthday, baby girl

Today is my baby girl’s 2nd birthday. I can hardly believe that so much time has passed since I became a mother. I didn’t even WANT to be a mother, not really…I rather grudgingly went along with it because we were getting a bit older and I figured I didn’t want to reach 40 and look back and say “Oh my god, the things I wish I had done…”. I guess I’m just saying that it felt like it was “time” to think about having a baby, if we were going to do it, and I couldn’t really fathom the idea of NOT ever having a baby, so we went ahead with it. Blindly.

9 months of pregnancy passed in a rather dazed blur and then suddenly I was in the hospital with a newborn that I had no idea what to do with. I expected it to be horrible, no sleep, constant worry, the whole bit. For some reason, I never expected it to be wonderful also. I didn’t expect to look down at her face and just cry because I felt like my heart would burst from my chest. I didn’t expect her to be sweet, curious, and to not even really cry that much. I didn’t expect the immense satisfaction I felt when she heaved a sigh of relaxation and relief as she snuggled against me. I also felt crushed with responsibility, to the point that I bawled the whole drive home from the hospital…to the total bewilderment of Dave. But somehow we muddled through, and we now have an active, curious, sweet, and adorable toddler who only occasionally throws tantrums to try to get her way.

She loves books, her dog Leo, her stuffed animals, and figuring things out. I know better than to try to help her now…apparently frustration is part of her rite of passage. She is independent, but won’t leave my side when she’s sick or scared. She has a “lovey” that she sleeps with and I dread ever having to take away. She begs nightly for us to “giggle her belly” before bedtime, and her insane peals of laughter are just the sweetest music. She loves Little Einsteins and must watch it daily.

I can’t imagine life without her.

Charlie’s birthday pictures

Adventures in obedience

Leo and I have started obedience class. I took him to a puppy kindergarten when he was a wee baby, but now is time for “serious” obedience. I have been remiss with him, allowing him to go to over a year old without any real obedience. The only thing the dog knows how to do is show in conformation, and he’s hit and miss with that as it is LOL.

I think he has a brain. He is highly trainable, except that I can only hold his attention for about .45 seconds before he’s focusing on something else…usually one of the other dogs in the class that he’s trying to convince to go romp with him for a while. He is the bad influence in the class, the one always saying to the other dogs…”come on, let’s play! Screw this sit-stay-down crap.” But BOY! When I do get his attention, he is amazing. So perky and focused on me…for .45 seconds, of course. I think he’ll be a great agility dog someday…as long as the courses are REALLY short. Like one obstacle short.

Everyone says she's so well behaved

If they only knew my secret…

OK OK, just so you don’t all call CPS on my ass, here are the pictures of her climbing in there of her own free will.

We’re leaving for a week’s vacation tomorrow. Packing for a large trip ALWAYS makes me want to pull my hair out, because though I love Dave he DRIVES ME BATTY SOMETIMES! This is always one of those times, because he gets so freaking concerned that we’re going to forget something. Me…I pretty much figure that as long as we’ve got the kid (check), the car (check), our wallet/purse (check), birth control (CHECK), and a few clothes to get by…we’ll pretty much be OK, y’know? There is a Wal-Mart somewhere if we forget the damned toothbrushes.

And we’ve already packed the case of wine, the beer, and the bottles of Jack Daniels in the car, so apparently we’re going to be joining Mandy in the ranks of the boozers this week. We’re vacationing with Dave’s whole family, by the way…his parents, his two sisters and their husbands and kids. Three children under the age of 2, yippee! Should be…umm…interesting.