one of those

Since getting Brontie, I have been hearing a lot of jokes about Belle and her age (actually these lame jokes were happening even before getting Brontie).

People have even asked me,

"So now that you have Brontie, you're probably just waiting for Belle to die."

(Yuck...it feels wrong to even type that.)

So, I have a little story to tell about Belle.

A couple weeks ago when I was having a particularly crappy day thinking about the injustice that is my life, I came in and laid down on the ground next to Belle's bed and started crying.  I reached my arm up to pet her face.  As I did that, she took her two front paws and wrapped them around my arm, leaned towards me and started licking my face. 

She knows me. 

She loves me. 

And, I love her.

So, the next time someone asks me if I am waiting for Belle to die, I will kindly respond,

"No, actually I am waiting for you to die."

Don't mess with my babies.

Yeah, I'm one of those dog owners.

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A Quarter of a Century

Today my sister Kristina is 25.

That is kind of a big birthday.

It sounds so mature.

And she is so not mature.

I mean look at her.

But I love her, and I guess you have to be kind of mature in order to live across the country from the rest of your family.

Kristina,

I hope you have a fabulous day celebrating.

Come home soon so we can celebrate with you.

Happy Birthday!

I love you!

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on being thirty...

Last night, two girls guessed that I was 23.  That felt good.  But this other woman, who is probably in her early 40's, kept calling me honey.  That did not feel so good.  I wanted to shout at her that I am thirty and you don't call people who are 30 honey anymore.  When I told Nick both of these stories, he said that I can't have it both ways.  Whatever.

So, my opinion of thirty is that it kind of sucks.

I am getting wrinkles.  I started using wrinkle cream, but I fear it is too late.

When Amy was editing our Christmas card picture this last year, she was removing the wrinkles and dark circles under my eyes.  She was flashing back and forth between the before and after pictures when my mom walked in.  When my mom looked at the screen, she asked Amy why she kept putting those dark marks under my eyes.  Yeah, so if you saw our Christmas card picture, now you know that it was one big fat lie.  And the really pathetic thing is that I still have wrinkles in the picture even after the editing.

The original picture, wrinkles and all.

But that is besides the point.


That is not the reason why I think thirty sucks. 

Thirty sucks because it makes me think about all the things that I have not accomplished yet in my life.  Okay, really it makes me think about one thing I have not accomplished yet.

I keep meeting people who have kids, like multiple kids.  And when I meet them, I automatically assume they are older than me.  Then, I find out they are either my age or younger.  This automatically sends me into a flustered panic and gives me a serious inferiority complex.

I don't have kids yet, at least not human ones. This is quite obvious, since you see doggy pictures instead of kid pictures on this blog.  Just know that i would rather be showing you cute babies than cute dogs.  But, for complicated reasons that are beyond my control and that I won't go into at the moment, I don't have cute babies yet.


Being 30 reminds me of that fact.


If it was up to me, babies would be abundant in our abode.


I just thought you should know.  Because I know that when people are thirty and have been married for 5 years, other people start to wonder.  Maybe it makes me feel a little less inferior to have you know that.

And I guess if I look like I'm 23, then waiting a little longer to have kids is not the end of the world.  I just have to make my uterus believe that it is only 23 too.

Me when I really was 23.

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The Doggy Diaries

Well, I have had an interesting first couple of days with my new mom and dad.  And, I have a new sister.  But, she seems more like she could be my grandma's age...or even my great grandma's age.  Maybe that's why she doesn't want to play with me that much.  I try to climb on her and bite her, but she just keeps walking away from me.  I don't get it.  She did let me take a nap near her today though.  It was nice to have another dog to sleep next to.  It makes me miss my real mom less.

My dad keeps saying he is going to take me out on his paddleboard.  I can't wait for that.  I think I will fit right in with all the surfers with my sweet fauxhawk.  And my mom says that she will lay out on the beach with my new sister, Belle, and watch us.  Gosh my parents are cool. 

So, this new dog came to live with us.  At first, I thought maybe he was just visiting, but he doesn't seem to be going anywhere, so I'm afraid he's here to stay.  I guess he's not so bad.  I am trying to be patient with him.  When he gets annoying (which is often), I just calmly get up and walk somewhere else.  My mom (who is not really my mom, but is my sister, but kind of became my mom when I came to live here...confusing, I know.  I don't even know what to call her), anyway, she told me that I am allowed to growl at him and nip at him if he is bothering me, but I don't want to scare the poor little guy.  He is pretty cute after all, at least when he sleeps.

Now, if you want to feel sorry for me, don't.  I may be old, but I still have a puppy face, and it's the cutest face around.  And soon enough, the new little guy won't be so new or so little anymore, and he will stop getting all the attention.  Plus, my sistermom is so worried about me feeling neglected that she won't stop giving me treats and kisses and cuddles and backrubs.  My sad beagle eyes are sure helping me out in this category.  All I have to do is look at her and she caves and give me anything I want.  I could get used to this.

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Our New Little Addition

We welcomed our little labradoodle, Brontie, into the family last night.
Isn't he so cute!!!

{Brontie was the name he was given when he was born.  We have debated keeping it or changing it, but it seems to be sticking, so we will see.}

Before he joined us, we decided to let Belle be Queen For The Day on Saturday. We took her down to Dana Point Harbor for breakfast and walked around a bit.  Then she came with us everywhere we went that day.She is still so stinkin' cute at 15 years old.  I just love her to death.

Our last picture as a family of 3

Then, last night, we picked up our little pup

We brought him home to meet Belle

Belle was pretty indifferent towards him at first, but I was relieved that she did not seem sad that there was another dog around.  My stomach was in knots the whole way home with Brontie because I was so worried about her.  I just don't want her to feel like she is being replaced.

They had to test each other out for a bit.  Brontie was really timid around her, and Belle was only mildly interested.

But they warmed up to each other, and I was so excited that Belle let Brontie snuggle up next to her on the couch.

Bronty even started to take up a lot of space so that Belle was hanging off the edge of the couch, but she didn't complain.  She let him have his space.

This morning was a different story though.  Brontie got a little too comfortable with Belle and started climbing all over her.  He is used to being able to play rough with his brothers and sisters, and Belle's hips are not used to being jerked around...they hurt enough without the extra weight on them.  So, they both still have some adjusting to do. 
I just really want them to be best friends.
They are way too cute together to not be.

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Happy Mother's Day!

Happy Mother's Day!  

Our family has decided to celebrate Mother's Day on Tuesday when all of my mother's daughters will be home. (We are missing 2 right now.)  But, I still have to wish my mama a Happy Mother's Day because I love her and think she is the greatest!

So, Happy Mother's Day to my beautiful mom, to my wonderful grandma, and to the amazing mother of my husband.

I love you all!

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if only I could cover all my walls with this

This is what you call slatwall, and I am in love with it.

This was the one project I cared about getting done over Spring Break.

It was so easy to do….at least for me.  Nick might tell you another story.

But, he doesn’t have a blog….so here’s my story:

When my parents closed their store, they had so much slatwall.  They sold a lot of it, but we made sure to stash away some pieces for ourselves. (When I say we, I do not mean Nick and me.  He was not a fan of this idea.  When I say we, I mean the rest of my pack rat family and me).  At the time, Nick and I were living in an apartment and had no use for the slatwall and no place to store it, but I knew I would NEED it in the future.  I promised Nick that I would find a place to keep it and he wouldn’t have to worry about it.  For a while, it resided in my parent’s garage, and when they moved, it found a home in my sister’s garage.  But then she moved too.  From there, I cannot remember the trek this little wall took, but it has seen many-a-garage.   Nick had to move it every time (so much for not having to worry about it).  That made him a very pleasant person to be around because he really likes lifting awkward, heavy things and moving them all over Orange County, especially when they are for his wife who he adores. 

After touring the garages of Orange County, the slatwall finally ended up in our garage when we moved into our house.  You’d think that was the end of the story….but you’d think wrong. 

That slatwall sat and sat in our garage.  We were, after all, doing tons of work to the house, and hanging slatwall was not top priority.  So, it sat in a very annoying spot where it was blocking everything.  And, every time Nick would try to work in the garage, his frustration levels would reach all time highs.  People don’t think there is anything that can get Nick mad, but they are wrong.  That slatwall could really piss him off.  (Me, on the other hand, I never piss him off).  Just as he was about to blow his top, we (as in, the rest of my pack rat family and me) found a brilliant little place to store it, where it would be out of sight, out of mind.  And so it was….

…Until the day finally arrived when we were able to put that slatwall to good use….

 All we had to do was cut it to the right size and screw it into the wall.  Then we framed it with some leftover framing from the store. (When I say we, I mean Nick.)

I loaded it up with supplies for all the scrapbooking and knitting that I never do.

And then I sat and stared at it, drooling over its magnificence.

This part of our house once was a laundry room.  The washer and dryer hookups were moved into the garage long ago, so we decided to make this a space for some extra storage.  I knew that this would be the perfect place for the slatwall as soon as we moved into the house.   

I love it!  

***If you want to do this yourself, just go to a bookstore that is going out of business (sadly, there are a lot), and buy some of their slatwall.  Make sure that you also buy the acrylic to go on it.  It's cheap and easy!***

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the chair that almost got away

We were cleaning out our garage over Spring Break when we came across a lonesome unwanted chair that we had stashed away out of sight. 

I told Nick it was time to send it off to Goodwill so that it could find a nice loving home where it would be appreciated.  So we tossed it aside into the unwanted pile.  As we continued our cleaning, organizing and purging, my eyes kept wandering back to the poor little lonely chair.  We had rescued her from my parent's store when it was going out of business.  How could I abandon her?  Could I really let her go that easily?  This was her home, and she was one of my only tangible memories from the store (along with a few other things...ok, a lot of other things that I can't bring myself to get rid of.)  

Oh the guilt! 

(This is why things that I promise Nick I will take to Goodwill sit in my trunk for months on end.  Precious Moments Chip and Dip Platters!  How could I bare to get rid of them?)

So, as I looked upon the little chair and pondered all these things in my heart, a thought entered my mind.  It dawned on me that maybe, just maybe those little cushions on the chair could pop off.  And that maybe, just maybe I could recover them.  So, I took the closest screwdriver and went to work popping those cushions off (much to Nick's dismay...he was worried about his screwdriver and my ability to use it.) But, I am my father's daughter, and I have quite a bit of handy dandiness to me, and those cushions popped right off.  Sure enough.  This would be an easy job.

I can even use a staple gun.

And so it was.  Our little chair got a makeover, and we found love in our hearts once again for her.  She will not be stashed away in the garage anymore, but rather, will be proudly displayed in our office as my desk chair.

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