Category Archives: doggies



Back in 2004, I made the incredibly intelligent post-college grad decision to use my gift of persuasion and push my high school sweetheart into marriage. I then of course had to follow up my adulting by checking things off my list of grandiose holly-homemaker life goals – husband, check! house, check! a dog named Princess, check! Ah the optimistic dreams of my early 20’s, my life was so complete! Only…

The husband… I, um, about that, <cringey face> the husband turned out to be a decision I maybe might have should have maybe thought through a little longer. We barely lasted a year and in the best Forrest Gumpiest voice I can muster, that’s all I have to say about that.

The house… the house was a tiny ranch that had this really high-tech central air system that actually cleaned my carpets for me by leaking pools of water under the furnace room wall into the guest bedroom. The plumbing did this really cool thing where it would generously show me the poo water in my pipes by bubbling it up through the drain in the bathtub if I flushed the toilet, ran a sink and had the washing machine going at the same time. And the neighbors were ah-mazing creatures who would eat lunch in their driveways on tv trays in their underwear while hosting garage sales. I’m not even kidding a little. The day I was bought out of the house the neighbors heard a faint “sayonaraaaaaaaa!!!!!” as I peeled down the street for the last time with $12k in my hand.

And then there’s the dog…


She’s the absolute best thing to come from my poor decision making skills from a decade and a half ago.

This little being has been with me through 7 moves, a number of career changes, countless relationships and becoming a momma. If this dog could talk she could tell you novels of my greatest love stories and my worst loves lost, of what it feels like to comfort me when I sob and the elation felt while sharing with me the moments of pure joy, though I know my deepest secrets are safe with her. For the last almost 15 years, she has been the most loyal protector I could have ever wanted by my side. And in the last year or so, her age has started to show. Most people who meet her would never guess she’s almost 15, but having had her in my life since I was 24, I see it. Her eyes are foggy and when she jumps on the couch or the bed she misses the first attempt, sometimes by a good foot. She doesn’t hear much anymore though I can startle her out of sleep with a loud sneeze. She would rather starve than eat dog food. At night she gets into such a deep sleep and frequently wakes up in a puddle of pee. Not mine, I promise. And when she breathes while laying down, it sounds like she’s wheezing. My old puppy, she is slowing down.


And until she tells me it’s time, that she’s done, that she is in pain or that her life is not hers anymore, with a hole in my heart I will help her with that. “But it’s not my time yet!” she tells me with her big brown eyes and wagging tail. And so we make it work.


So she won’t have to struggle, I scoop her little warm body up and place her on the couch when she needs me. I cook her dinner every night complete with ground beef, chicken or turkey mixed with scrambled eggs, cheese and rice. I’ve learned the hard way that tuna doesn’t sit well with her and if I try to sneak in peas she will strategically pick them off her plate and place them on the floor in a pattern that spells out “no thank you”. We sleep with a waterproof shower curtain atop the comforter because no amount of pee dribbles will ever deny her a warm spot in the bed. She is in the early stages of kidney disease that we are stopping in its tracks with a daily supplement along with a dose of Pepcid to ease tummy upset. And the wheezing is from an enlarged liver pressing on her diaphragm when she lays down, though she’s gotten pretty good at finding comfortable sleeping positions that momentarily make my heart stop.


My girl is old in body but still a puppy at heart. And after 15 years of her selflessly giving me the greatest love, loyalty and protection such a little being could give, I won’t ever hesitate to return the favor of making sure she’s happy and safe. Today that means occasionally hand feeding her when she wants help, giving her extra understanding and I love you’s when her body, eye sight or hearing momentarily fails her, and lightly touching her back to let her know when I’m standing right next to her while she’s desperately searching for me around the corner. We’ll see what tomorrow brings and roll with it.


My Princess, I couldn’t have asked for a better doggie. She is mine and I am hers.



Filed under doggies, life, Love, Pets

this is why I can’t have nice things



Hazel is my playful, energetic 9-year-old ball of fur with big brown eyes and a cute little underbite. At night, Hazel likes to either shimmy her way under the blanket and sleep down by my feet, or lay on top of the blanket and chew 3,234,583 little holes in it which drives me absolutely nuts. I have no idea why she does it but she pretty much always has; it’s the reason I always have a needle and teal thread on hand so my bed doesn’t resemble swiss cheese.

So the other night around 3am, I woke up to her wriggling around under the blanket by my feet. I gave her a little nudge which usually quiets her down or gets her to move over, only this time she kept wriggling. Wouldn’t move over. Wriggling. Wriggling. It was not what I needed at 3am and I could feel my blood pressure start to rise. So I sat up, reached under the blanket to bring her up so I could snuggle with her, and……yeah. This is why she wasn’t budging.



The dog chewed a hole in the blanket, stuck her head through it and got stuck.

And this is why I can’t have nice things.


Filed under doggies, Funny, life, Pets, ridiculousness

dream home

Every day on the way home from preschool, we pass a beautiful house that I could only ever dream of buying, followed with squeals from Summer when she spots it. “Mommy, there’s our favorite green house!” she yells and points…


Zillow. That porch. I would make out with it if the owners wouldn’t arrest me.

houseGoogle street view. That yard. Like soft, green, fluffy velvet butter.

“Someday, I’m going to buy us that house,” I tell her knowing damn well I probably won’t ever be able to considering 1) it was last on the market for $589,000, and 2) it’s, um, not actually for sale. Meh.

Details, schmeetails.

But then when we get home to our cozy little space and I look around, I know we have everything we could ever possibly need and then some. Two bedrooms, two full bathrooms, a small kitchen (because really, how much room does one actually need in order to cook chicken nuggets and have kitchen dance parties?), a decent dining room and comfy colorful living room, a patio, no maintenance, no mowing the lawn, no HOA fees, no having to buy a new appliance if one breaks…. and we’re happy. While there’s always something to complain about (ahem no in-unit laundry), there’s always a silver lining (shared laundry room means being able to do 6 loads of laundry at the same time in under an hour). There’s no garage parking which royally sucks in the middle of a Chicago winter (boo), but there’s a pool and playground right outside our door (can I get an amen!). I have weird neighbors who get crazy eyes as they turn and run (not even kidding in the slightest) from my terrifying ginormous rabid attack dogs…

killer dogs

…but I have others who bring me platefuls* of cookies and bags of bread, there’s Drunk John across the hall who always flashes his award-winning beer-soaked smile, and I have my kindred spirit mama and her daughter right upstairs.

*side note – platefuls just sounds wrong, like it should be plates-ful instead, like brothers-in-law, no?

It’s not our permanent home, but it’s our for-a-little-while home and I love it. It’s as perfect as any beautiful, 32,000 square foot box of gorgeousness sitting on 3/4ths of an acre with beautiful finishes and a basement big enough to hold 15 washers and dryers and a small aircraft. Plus with a house that size I’d have to hire a housekeeper and then I’d just feel bad every time she picked up my dirty underoos off the bathroom floor. So yeah… maybe someday, maybe not.

After we passed our favorite green house yesterday and I told her we’re going to buy it someday, she asked me, “when we buy the house how will we get it home from the store?”

“With the world’s largest shopping cart, sweet pea. They just haven’t made it yet…”


Filed under doggies, home, Kids, life, Parenting, Suburbs


I’ve heard about the wife who discovers her husband has another family on the side complete with 2.5 kids, a white picket fence and a yellow lab named Skippy.

I’ve actually known the mousey little HR-by-day girl who no one would ever suspect of being naughty, yet there she is every weekend naked on stage at The Circus sticking dollar bills in places they don’t belong for an addition on her house.

I’ve heard of the child who is a quiet, reserved, sweet little thing with smiles and manners and “yes, ma’am”s at school who goes home and tortures small animals in his backyard.

I’ve seen Trading Places, The Parent Trap and Undercover Princes.

Double lives happen, I know this, I just never thought it would happen to my family. Yet there I was the other night, browsing the Pinterest homepage after unsuccessfully trying 10 times to verify my blog to my Pin profile and inevitably locking myself out, when I saw a cute little ‘Make Your Own Board Book’ pin.

I decided to click on it and check out the tutorial and that’s when I realized that fate had put that pin on my homepage for a reason. Because when I scrolled through, I saw her. With another family. A mom. A dad. A baby named Boo and a brother named Bub. Grandparents. Aunts. Uncles. A whole other family that I never knew existed! My brain started swimming with questions – the when’s, the how’s, the why would she do that to me’s?

dog freaking dog

And I think the hardest part was that she just looked so… happy.



Filed under craziness, DIY, doggies, Family, Pets, ridiculousness

h i j k l m n o …peeeeeeeeee

Every morning in my house, I’m the first one awake. And every morning I smack the alarm off before the baby and Scott hear it, I rub the dreaminess from my eyes, stretch the kinks out of my back, and head downstairs to let my sweet little doggies out so they can empty their full little doggie bladders. Well this morning my groggy 5:30am-for-the-18th-day-in-a-row brain decided that the doggies would have to wait just a quick minute or two while momma poured herself a big fat cup of coffee. And in that quick minute or two it took me to actually pour myself that big fat cup of coffee, my stubborn old Princess decided that no ma’am, coffee does NOT come first and she does NOT wait for anyone. She let me have it.

She peed.

On the P.

She P-peed. A double whammy.

Well played, little doggie, well played.

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Filed under doggies


It’s official, someone in the product development department of PetSmart reads my blog. 

Exhibit A:

Exhibit B:

I did a double take as I spotted this on the shelf literally seconds after walking past a woman acting completely normal as she pushed her 2 dogs around the store in a freaking stroller.

The world has done lost its mind.


Filed under craziness, doggies, ridiculousness

breath sounds

It’s official, I’ve crossed over the threshold from normal to whack a doodly doo… my checking-the-baby-to-see-if-she’s-still-breathing-neurosis has gotten worse. Much worse. I now officially check her while I’m sleeping. Not while she’s sleeping, psh that’s a given… you read it right, while I’m sleeping.

No less than twice a week now, I have the same dream in the middle of the night. I dream that the baby is in my bed being smothered in between mine and Scott’s pillows, which is just weird considering we’ve never actually put her in our bed to sleep. And every single time I have this dream, I don’t realize it’s a dream until I have literally bolted upright in a panic, reached in between the pillows and picked up the baby, held her little mouth to my ear to listen for breath sounds, and then realized that I’m actually holding the dog.




Sorry, Hazy.


Filed under doggies, ridiculousness, Summer