Hey, internet:  how’s it goin?  Yeah, it’s been a while – sorry about that.  I don’t want to be one of those fickle friends who only comes to you when I need to dump problems, you know, the kind that calls looking for childcare at the last minute so they can go on some fun adventure like wine tasting or to a dinner that doesn’t involve crayons, paper placemats, sippy cups,  . . . “but we should totally hang out sometime after that, too.”

So I won’t dump my problems on you.  I won’t tell you about how I haven’t slept through the night since the adoption of our bundle of bullimic energy.  No, Jacks does not need to see Dr. Phil about an eating disorder:  he eats about three times what is recommended on the puppy chow bag, and he’d eat more if I’d *just let him have the bag!*  But he could stand to be seen regarding his lack-of-confidence-when-defecating-alone.  He’s worse than a middle school girl.  “I have to go to the bathroom.  I can’t go alone.  COME WITH ME!!!!”  The dog can’t pee (or poo) alone:  we have to go outside with him.  And when you’re sick, standing outside at 3am in your gardening shoes, tank top, shorts, and short blanket barely wrapped around you (because it’s the blanket he *doesn’t* bite) and you can’t tell if it’s rain or snot running down your nose while you hear yourself exclaim, “Good job, Jacks!  Good poop!” let me tell ya – you begin to question the direction of your life.  Daily life consists of tearing through the house and then passing out:  it’s tough to be a puppy.

JJ’s decided that he too wants to be like the puppy.  Fortunately we have a diaper for him so he doesn’t pee on the carpet.  But he’s sleeping at odd hours, doing things like waking up two hours early because YAY WE HAVE A PUPPY TO PLAY WITH AND A MAMA TO DRIVE SLOWLY INSANE!  I’m not creative enough to know what to do with a JJ who’s awake for too many hours during the day.  I think he’s trying to trick me, though, because recently his father and I have taken to threatening “Do you want to go to bed?” . . . and he does.  Like two hours before nap time.  He’ll be acting fussy, we throw out the “threat,” and he walks upstairs to grab his blanket and try to climb into his crib.  He waves, blows kisses, and goes to sleep.  ..[insert open jaw]…  Neither his father nor I were nappers:  Hubby would just play until he fell asleep in his toys, and I didn’t have the nickname “No Nap Gerick” for no reason.   I’ve missed the signals a few times lately:

The weather’s worse than a middle school girl as well.  It was blazing hot, long enough that I put JJ’s warmer clothes away.  Since then, it’s been cold and rainy.  Let me tell you, I am *not* in any condition to deal with a prepubescent weather system.

The yard is kinda purdy.  We have flowers and herbs and strawberries which I would show you pictures of since I took a lot, but the uploader of the Flickr pictures didn’t deem them worthy.  They were even all artsy-fartsy:  close-ups of big, fat, red strawberries and such.  You’ll just have to take my word for it.

So yeah, internet, that’s what’s been going on.  So I dumped some on you:  sorry.  I promise you can return the favor.  Oh, and I forgot to ask:  you wouldn’t happen to be free on Friday night?  Cause there’s this thing I want to do, and I kinda need a sitter. . . .

[Amy, I put this picture up just for you ]

Mama Musings