I Still Can't Believe It

I know, I know! Three posts in one day - get back to work already! I'll be staying late to compensate for my time wasted on the blog. Uh huh. Anyway, there is good reason for this post and it has to be today. Because people, today the last triplet came home! That's right, my soon-to-be god-daughter is finally out of the hospital. Not that anyone was counting, but Lily was in the hospital for her first 150 days of life and although she's coming home with a bevy of medical equipment, we are all super fucking happy that she's out of the hellhole NICU and at home with her brothers and parents. Along time back for this blog, I wrote about how awesome Lily's parents have done . And now? Now I just want to add that y'all are even more amazing than anyone could have anticipated at being parents to triplets (and MONSTER! Can't forget him!). From the stories about what they've dealt with at the hospital, to the stories of sleep deprivation extraordina

In response to my previous post, I thought I'd start with something about Cassady. I really shouldn't bitch about him. He's been a remarkably healthy dog for all but the last 6 months of his 11 years. He's had his bouts with fleas, ghiardia (sp?), ear infections and penis infections (that one was nast-AY) and what not, but overall, he's lived a pretty full and energetic life so far. I really hope that his last few years with us are half as good as the first 11. Here's to you Beaner Beans - taken for granted no more! Poof!

Der, I'm so witty! Gah! I received a desk calendar this year as a gift - one of those where you peel off a page every day and get to see a new picture. This one is dog-themed desk calendar. So, I just looked ahead to tomorrow and it's a pretty cute picture, one weiner-looking dog has a surprised look on his face and the other little shit dog (sorry - nothing personal against the little white lap dog style dogs. I know they're great - I just can't break myself of referring to them suchly) has an equally "cute" look on his face. But the picture of the dogs isn't what I need to vent about. Nay, it's the caption on the side. This one says... Dogs do talk, but most of us don't understand a word they say. Here's a brief guide to common canine vocalizations. Short, high-pitched barks demand attention from a family member or friend; lower-pitched, longer barks protect territory or warn of an invader; howling or mournful barks mean loneliness; whines se

Can I just tell you how utterly delicious these pickles are? They're just the right amount of salty, they're perfectly crisp, a lovely golden green color, cut into big spears and taste like heaven in pickle form. Haiku to Pickles: Pickles aren't fancy Crunchy, sweet, bread and butter You choose; I will eat.

This look Originally uploaded by Corn Dog . It reminds me of a 50's starlet-look-behind-you pose. I'm thinking of having this printed as an 8"x10" and framing it. It just cracks me up!

It's been awhile since we've done one of these, sorry about that. It sure as hell hasn't been because of a lack of things to bitch about. Me? Run out of things to bitch about? Not bloody likely. Today I'd like to spend some time bitching about working out/dieting. Can someone tell me how it's fair that it takes nearly an entire year of hard fucking work to build up muscle and lose inches, but only TWO WEEKS for all of it to revert back to flab? Seriously, there's a conspiracy here - I can smell it. Or how about those people that can do 10 sit-ups a day for a week and lose an inch around their waist? While my smoke-ridden lungs burn on the treadmill for hours and lose .0000082 mm around my schnoz? Or those people with the freakishly active metabolisms that can eat any damn thing they want in whatever quantity they want and not gain a pound? I take a peek down the cookie aisle and my triceps (ha! what triceps?) jiggle like jello at the sight. Can't remember th

And we're going to use that as the basis for our new training regime . The coolest part about our new regime is how flexible it is and how it relies mostly on what you already know about your dog's personality traits. The hardest part about the new training regime is to get Cassady crate trained. Am so not looking forward to that, but I think it's got to happen. My latest theory on his unstoppable licking and scratching is that it's a compulsive behavior he's trained himself to do when he's anxious or bored. I think it really started when we moved away from the house that had the park in the backyard - his frisbee-dedicated time and space was reduced quite a bit when we moved. I think he needs a job. Any suggestions on a good job for Cassady? Corn Dog's job will be to entertain (read: molest) the guests. We don't really like guests anyway. Ya'll should just stay the fuck away. Unless you have a penchant for being licked and mauled by jumping mutts.

Another calendar in the trash. Whoopiteedoo! In years past I have done the whole NY's resolution bit, but this year I haven't really thought about just one resolution that I want to make. Not to sound self-deprecating or anything, but there's a lot of areas of my life I want to work on. Maybe this year I'll try out the theory that if you pick just one thing to concentrate on, all the rest of the changes you want to make will get laid by the wayside (weird expression - wonder where it comes from) and forgotten. And inevitably, the one thing I would specify to try and resolve would get stuck in the Forget File by February anyway. How about this: I resolve to put more clothes on the dogs. I resolve to take more pictures (especially of dogs wearing clothes). I resolve to learn to knit (clothes for dogs - they just don't make the cute stuff in their size). I resolve to take more walks (with my dogs wearing proper outdoor attire - you know, raingear if it's raining, b