“You know you sound really unpleasant, right?
I typed ‘ irritating dog lady ‘ into Google, and your blog came up. I think you were first. Try it.
Also, you misspelled -assistant- when you described your husband.
That’s all.”

I was kind of entertained and really wanted to address it then, but have not had the time. Firstly – WOW! I’m moving up in the world if you can find me by googling “irritating dog lady”! That’s kinda cool if you ask me. Secondly, who in the world is so bored that they actually google “irritating dog lady”? I guess Matt is. Well, thanks Matt. I’m guessing that Matt really didn’t read the post – this one that he was commenting about. Or perhaps his reading comprehension skills just suck. Who knows? I’m thinking, either way, he has a lot of time on his hands.

The point, actually, was to sound unpleasant. I was pissed off, irritated, and just sort of in awe of the stupidity of some people.

I’m still often just blown away by how in your face and rude people can be – especially when you have a baby, but I have to be nicer now. I’m teaching classes and the Training Director over there, so I have to make nice with, well, everyone. I will still get in someone’s face if they let their dog too close to my baby, but I do it as politely as possible, and usually I blame it on the baby. “Oh, sorry, she can look at your dog, but she can’t pet because she doesn’t understand that ears are not for pulling yet” and then I step in between the dog and the baby. She doesn’t understand. She’s a baby. She tortures my dogs, yanks their hair, pokes their eyes and explores their noses. They don’t care. Your dog might. I don’t really want to stress test your dog that far, do you?

Anyway, I just wanted to say thanks to Matt, I think I will now start referring to myself as that “Irritating Dog Lady,” cause it kind of has a nice ring to it. I do have to ask though – why the hell were you googling that anyway? Don’t you like porn? Or have a nice myspace account you could be updating? I mean, really.

These feel like stolen moments, Q and I wrapped up in our own little world. I know that someday I’m going to look back on these days, these days of just me and her having our own little love affair, and be so sad that they are over. These are my days. She’s still little enough to not argue about what she wears or what we do, instead is simply thrilled to play with me. She laughs at my antics, and thinks being tickled and gobbled up is probably the best thing to happen to a baby ever.

While I enjoy going out and about and being part of the grown up world, I am also completely content to spend days at home feeding her, bathing her, playing silly games, and just tending to her. Which, if you’ve ever had a baby, you’ll know that the tending can easily suck up an entire day. She’s eating baby food now, and sitting up, rolling over, and *this* close to crawling. She has come to love her baths, where before only a shower with Mom or Dad would do, now that she has a baby bathtub, she will kick and splash for as long as I let her. Her favorite thing is to bounce like a maniac in her little bouncer chair thing. Now that her feet reach the floor, the child is a bouncing fool. This has carried over to kicking in the tub, bouncing when I hold her, rocking on her hands and knees, and a general love of being tossed about. Funny girl.

These are my days. My parents are still young enough that I don’t have to worry about their health so much. My baby is still my baby, and not running off to discover the world yet. I hope that as she grows we will still have so much fun, and many adventures, but my heart is convinced that these days are the best ones. These days where she and I are just wrapped up in each other, and the great big world doesn’t really intrude so much. Now, when she wants nothing more than to cuddle up in my arms and be snuggled. Now, when I am still enough. The heartaches and small pains of life haven’t touched her. No betrayals of friends, no comprehension of ugly things like death and destruction, no realization yet that life can be anything other than safe and secure. Her biggest worry is when her next meal is coming. Not a bad life, really. I wish that I could make it so that was always her biggest worry. Of course, as a mother, I want to protect her from everything. I want to keep her wrapped up in my arms, forever, if she’d let me. Yet, in the way it has always been, my job, my duty, is to prepare her to go out there and be part of the great big world. To learn to keep herself steady, so that when the world tries to toss her about, she can find her footing on her own. I know that, and I will do my best. If I could just hang on a little tighter to these days. I try to capture them as best I can with pictures and words, but every day that I celebrate a new milestone or accomplishment with her is a day that my heart aches a little because she’s growing up.

I never thought I’d be completely wrapped up in someone so small. This thing, motherhood? It’s amazing and mind bending and awful and wonderful. It is the hardest and most amazing thing I’ve ever done. Every time I think I’ve got a handle on it, I look at her and am knocked flat by the sheer emotion of everything that is her. I’ve loved a lot in my life, hard love that seemed to consume me, but nothing, nothing ever prepared me for this. That she would soften my edges, make me see things in a whole new light, teach me that love with humans can indeed be unconditional (of course I thought that only existed with dogs). That this tiny little bit of humanity that would hold my entire world in her fist. A friend of mine the other day remarked that his wife’s pregnancy was an “everyday miracle.” That about sums it up for me.

She’s napping on my lap now, but making waking up moves, so I will let you go now, and go back to my silly little games. Take care, all.

So I just ripped off the band aid last weekend while Daddy was home to video her first try of baby food. It was priceless. So funny. She likes sweet potatoes and today we tried bananas. Bananas were not a hit. She made the most disgusted face and let it fall off her tongue. I thought I was going to die laughing. I sort of feel that way about bananas too.

Further proof that this is my child, she LOVES the dogs. Her new thing is to bury her face in their fur, which is freaking adorable.

Karma, Teak and Dyson all seem to really enjoy the baby, Jester is still wondering when she’s going home to her real Mommy. Sorry little man, she’s here to stay. I’m sure once she can throw cheerios, Jester will be a bigger fan.

Dogs are doing well in obedience, Teak is actually making huge strides. She can take treat CALMLY. I know, crazy, huh? Jester is doing pretty good, and Karma busted out with some super fabulous heeling the other day. I did not teach her that, she spent the weekend with Lynnea and had a few revelations. Dyson is, well, Dyson.

Life with a baby is hectic, she’s started teething which has been not fun for anyone. I feel for her, I really do, but Mommy needs a drink or ten. She’s playing with toys more, which is fun. This means I’m also playing with toys more, good thing I have a good imagination. Often she just plays herself to sleep – ok, it only happened these three times and it was so cute I took a picture of it. The one in the middle, she fell asleep in Daddy’s arms watching the iTunes visualizer program. She loves the lights. Often that is the only thing that will calm her down.

That’s it for now, I have a lot more to say on a lot of subjects, but she needs me more than you do right now. Later!

Just this past weekend we took Quinn, and all the dogs, and the cat(!) up to northern California to visit Josh’s side of the family. We rented an RV, hee hee, that was fun. Amazingly, the dogs were really good, Quinn was very flexible and charmed everyone she met with smiles and squeaks, and even the cat was well behaved. A bit chaotic, but not anything we are not used to.

Yesterday Teak and Jester both had dentals done, drugged pugs are entertaining to say the least. Other than my stress levels shooting sky high – I always panic when any of my dogs has to be anesthetized – everything went fine. Bonus pics of pugs high on pain meds.

Those were some pretty sad little animals. Jester is just getting more and more pathetic in his old age, and that mixed with heavy drugs just made him sad. He needed to be carried, and the blanket must be adjusted just so, no, not like that, fix it woman, ok, that’s better. I know I created a monster with both of the pugs really, but Jester is taking persnickety to a whole new level. I don’t care though, the dog is 11 years old, he can have whatever he wants. I just have the excuse now that he’s old. He’s always had whatever he wants. Cause he’s Jester. Teak handled the anesthesia a little better, but she’s younger, didn’t have as many teeth pulled, all that good stuff. She’s back on being a maniac already today.

Those are the highlights of the last month and a half – I will try to do better at keeping this updated for those of you that follow along. And if you commented (hint, hint) and it didn’t get posted, it’s because my comments have been totally spammed and full of garbage. Josh is going to fix it, just hasn’t gotten around to it. But don’t let that stop you!!
I will leave you with this final, tragic pug picture and say have a lovely weekend!

Anyway, why a tree? Because I wanted to get out all my ornaments from childhood. Because I like the smell of pine trees. Because it made it feel festive in the house. Because I’m trying to figure out exactly how and what we are going to teach our baby about the holiday season and I’d like to work trees into our celebration. We’ll see. For now, the holiday madness is over, and we’ll worry about it next year. Here are some pics, of my dogs, the baby, and our little Abercrombie. Q and the pugs with Santa, taken at the annual Holiday Pug Rescue party. Now there is a cause I support! If you’re looking for something nice to do, give a few bucks to San Diego Pug Rescue. They have saved so many little dogs this year and are going broke as a result.

So what are you going to do with 2009? I’m going to hang out with my baby. Not really sure what else. Maybe clean my house. Write a book. Or something.

I just popped in today to post some pics, say hello, and I’m not really sure what else. But it’s my blog, so I can do that if I want. So there! PLBBT!

Q is 8 weeks old today – I can’t believe it. The time truly does fly by.

I have, for years now, been working very hard on my crusty old dog trainer exterior. You know, the walls you put up to keep smelly, dirty things like emotions out? You grumble about clients, bitch about kids, mostly hate dogs, complain about everyone’s lack of ability to follow through, and just generally become bitter and cranky. I sort of like being that way, it was working for me. It made for some awesome sarcasm, and contributed to my unique outlook on my strange little world. And it was safe.

This baby has wrecked me. Wrecked me. Suddenly, I understand what it is to love someone – a human of all things – so much that you would sacrifice anything for their happiness. I understand how incredibly fierce and all consuming a mother’s love can be. Should be. Every day, I weep that she is getting bigger and growing up, and I rejoice that she is learning and becoming someone. In 8 short weeks, she has become the central focus of our family. Pretty much everything runs on her schedule, and we are putty in her tiny, perfect little hands.

I never really wanted kids. Who needs them when you can have PUPPIES!?! I have pugs, I can dress them, carry them, coddle them, and then toss them in their crates and go see a movie. The best of both worlds. I can’t be a Mom, I thought. I’m way too selfish. I treasure my alone time way too much. And I don’t even like kids.

Yet, I feel like I have found my feet in this thing we call Motherhood. I am not good at being pregnant, and I kinda sucked at giving birth; but the Mommy thing? I got that shit down. This, this I can do. It is the single hardest thing I’ve EVER done, and I’ve done some hard shit. 13 dogs in a condo for four days, anyone? Ya, talk to me.

I can’t even really explain it, but other Mommies know. You see it in their face when they walk by with their toddler and their breath catches a little at the sight of my tiny bundle. “Oh, a new baby” they say. You know they are remembering those first precious days of cuddling their babies close to their hearts. Before the little buggers could talk. I did it myself today. Q went in for her two month check and shots – poor, poor, baby – and there was a couple there with a brand, brand new baby – not even a week old. And I felt my heart clutch a little, because my baby won’t be that tiny ever again. At the same time, I’m thrilled that she smiles at me now, and knows who I am. She sees me. She’s noticing her world, and talking to us about it. But I can’t ever go back to that first week, those first heady moments when you fall completely in love. When you are overwhelmed with awe at what you have created, and terrified that you will somehow break them. When you stand and stare at them sleeping and all you can think is “Wow, I did that. How did I get so lucky, so blessed?” You wonder who they will be. Will you like them? Will they like you? And none of it matters, because no matter what, that is your baby, you will love them always. In ways that you have never loved another.

This is just the beginning of a long, long journey for Q and I. I hope that I remember, through the teething, the tantrums, the colds, the many messes, the late nights, and all the growing pains that are to come; I hope I always remember to treasure every moment. That I won’t get so caught up in “getting stuff done” to stop for a moment and just breathe her in. Hold her tight and forever imprint the feel of her tiny body in my arms. Sniff the yummy baby goodness at the curve of her cheek. Cause she won’t be little for long, and I want to grab onto every second of it and hold on tight.

Some day soon she’ll be walking. She’ll be able to walk away and explore the world on her own. I will support her every step of the way, and she will always know that my arms are here to catch her. I will support her, and I will cheer her on in her journey through life, even as my heart breaks that my tiny baby is growing up.

Do you see? Do you see what has happened to me? I am so very much in love. And, oh, it hurts. It hurts more than any break up, more than any physical injury. If children only knew the hold they have on their parents’ hearts. The power those tiny fists wield. I never knew. Never knew how much I was loved, until Q came into my world. I don’t think you can know until you experience it for yourself. You can’t really explain it either, but other Mommies know. You can see it in their faces.

I love you, Q. More than I ever wanted to love anything. Be gentle with your poor old Mommy, she breaks easy now.

It’s not like we’re at a movie or a fancy restaurant, it’s the freaking post office, so get over it. Yes, she’s crying, yes, I’m trying to keep her happy, but you know what? We have just as much right to be here as you do, and if you are that bothered, leave.

Thus I am again reminded that people suck. This is why I like hanging out with my dogs.

I have never seen anything like it. She didn’t poop yesterday, and was awake all morning, I am so so so very tired, she finally went down around 12:30, and I passed out too. She woke up around 3, and I fed her, and then laid her on a pillow on my lap while I made like Bessie Moo with the pump. She stared at the fan and made silly faces and then, there is no other word for it – erupted.

The noise was fantastic, and as I gazed at the suspicious new color of the leg of her diaper I thought well, at least she finally pooped. Now, for effect, keep in mind I’ve got boob pumps in each hand, so am sort of stuck. Plus, I’m mostly naked, cause clothes are just over rated at this point. All I had on were the rockin’ hospital issue mesh panties!

I decided since she started wailing that perhaps I should disengage myself from the machine and attend to her bottom. So, I did and picked her up, and was delighted to note the poo leaking out the opposite top side of her diaper through her onesie – oh ya, this is gonna be good.

I get her to the changing table and opened the gates of hell. Poo everywhere. Up the front, the back, out the side, and oh – taking a poo covered onesie off a screaming wiggling child? Next time I’ll just cut it off cause I managed to additionally smear poo all over her face and in her hair – rock on super star mom. Five wipes in and poo on the kids head, I realized I was no match for this disaster, gave up, cuddled my shit slicked infant to my chest and started the shower. Luckily Josh had come home early to work from home, so I opened the door and called him and gave him detailed instructions.

“Do not touch the baby, or me. Get a bag and collect the carnage off the changing table (at this point I wish I’d taken pictures, it was THAT awesome), get a clean diaper, onesie, and a towel, and wait for me to give you the clean child.” Luckily he follows instructions well, and got her dried and dressed while I finished my shower.

My thought now is – what the hell do you do if that happens in public? Pray? Cause there was no containing that disaster. She feels better now though thank you very much.

Motherhood is awesome. She was adorable in the shower though, didn’t fuss, just blinked at me with those big Disney princess eyes.

Although I imagine I’d be happy too if someone were holding me in a warm shower, washing my hair, and my bottom for me. Those were the days…..