Downward Facing Dog

I’m not quite sure this qualifies as yoga, but he does look very stoic…

ps – notice the high chair in the background!!



The other day I was at what is possibly the best place ever – a little shop in Naperville called Cookie Dough Creations – where you can eat raw cookie dough, and get this! you don’t even get salmonella! (totally unrelated side note, but does anyone but me think salmonella just sounds like a fish putting on airs?? Stupid fancy she-fish.) Anyways, there I was minding my own business, shoving peanut butter cookie dough down my throat as fast as my little hands can, I mean, daintily enjoying some cookie dough, like a lady, when I overhear the following conversation:

(First some background, I overhear these four college students referring several times to buildings on campus leading me to deduce that they go to Wheaton College, the school that I, for better and worse, also attended.  Normally when I hear people speaking about Wheaton College I break out in hives and quickly duck the other way)

Girl #1: Do you guys know professor so-and-so?

Boy:  Yeah, he’s always working out at the fitness center!

Girl #1:  Yeah, and he’s always wearing those creepy widowers!

Girl #2:  Wait… what?

Girl #3: Hold up, I think you mean a black widow?

Girl #1:  Wait, no, a black widow is a spider, and I think a widower is too.  And a widower is also someone whose spouse died, what do you call those shirts?

Boy:  A wife beater?

Girls:  Oh, yeah!

Girl #2: That’s kind of a creepy name, besides what do they call them when girls wear them?

Boy:  When girls wear them, it’s just a tank top.

Girl #2:  Oh.

AND these are the quality people we are churning out of our liberal arts colleges.  Which means in a couple of years they will be applying for the same jobs as me, making me look awesome.  Hooray.

The wisdom of future summer

How I wish this afternoon had gone:

Self:  It would be a great idea to bounce Sebastian around on my shoulders for a while!

Future Self:  Except then he might spit up aaaaaaaaaaaaall over your head.

Self:  Good point.  Thanks, future self.

Dog Blog!

While I don’t know the exact details, I think it’ safe to say, he is going to wake up with one hell of a hangover.

PS – while those crookedy little bottom teeth may seem like an evolutionary dead end, I can tell you exactly what function they serve.  He uses them to pick out all the seams with surgical accuracy from any stuffed toy we give him in .053 seconds.  RIP every stuffed toy we have ever brought into our house.  Will prove damn useful during the stuffed animal zombie apocalypse of 2020 though.

oh, I’m sorry, are you still here?

Sebastian is officially 1/2 year old.  Everyone always says that the time flies, and I know it’s super(!) cliche but I don’t think I ever understood how serious they were.  It might be the constant sleep deprived haze I’m in, but I’m all, didn’t I just bring you home from the hospital yesterday?  and why don’t you still look like this, all wrinkly and not fitting into your skin yet:

And how could I possibly have kept you alive this long; I have no idea what I’m doing!

Yet somehow (miraculously!)  that knobby little tadpole has turned into this full fledged goofy baby:

(pretty sure the caption that should go with this photo is “tiiiimbeeeeeeeeer!”)

He’s working on sitting up, but is still super wobbly.  Pat and I have invented a drinking game called “timber” where you guess how long and to which side he will fall over.  Admit it, you want to come to our house.

He’s started eating cereal, and just about anything else he can get his hands on, including (but not limited to!) handfuls of dog hair as he is able to snatch them from poor beau.

and that’s the story of my life, oh and check back monday, its a really good dog blog.

Like Father, like dog…

So yesterday Patrick and I went to see Hot Tub Time Machine at a really fun theater that serves food and drinks while you’re watching the movie.  In the past, we’ve taken movies really seriously, so it was actually a lot of fun to just have a fun date (finally!), and did we get a bucket of beer? yes, yes, we did!

So obviously, I’m a nursing mom and I cant drink very much, leaving a lot of drinks for Patrick.  yay him.

all of this to say that when we got home (yes, I drove), Patrick tried to walk the dog.  Halfway around the block, he came back in because he had forgotten the dog.

yes, he tried to walk the dog minus the dog.

who does that happen to??  like seriously, who?

Cheap-o Booze Hound

Am I allowed to explain the Busch Beer?  No?  Embarrassing.