Itching for Number 2

The question every mother of a 2-year-old gets is: ”so when’s the next one coming?” There are two ways to answer that question depending on the manner in which it is asked. You can either respond by looking directly at your husband who has already gone pale with fear. Or if the person who asks you is male and gestures to your belly as if you are already pregnant when you aren’t, the correct response is to punch them in the face.

Thankfully lately, I haven’t given out too many punches in the face but I’ve been trying to figure out a way to turn my husband’s fear into excitement. Don’t get me wrong I’m not 100% ready to have a second child. (Ali has only just mastered how to eat by herself; I think I will enjoy that for a while.) But you have to understand I need to plant these ideas in my husband’s head well in advanced in order to ensure their fruition (does anyone else hear the theme to INCEPTION right now?). I had to tell him we were having a christening on the day we found out I was pregnant. I plan to purchase a house in 2012 so I’ve been talking about it since 2009 … these things take time. 

So far Dan has been perpetually 1 year away from being “ready” to have another child. When Ali turned 1 he would be ready the following September. Just last Christmas he said he would be ready this Christmas, then when he got his review in March he said he would be ready in march of 2012.

Little did Dan know I have a secret weapon up my sleeve: Baby Michaela

Michaela is my co-workers, chubby, bubbly, blue-eyed, cute as ever baby girl. She comes second, only to my daughter Alison. (Sorry Daniela, you’re a mom, you understand) So I had a secret plan to get Dan to my brothers baseball game where Michaela would be there waiting. The whole ride to the game I was telling him how funny it is to hold a baby who looks chubby and they turn out feeling so light since we’re used to carrying around a 30 pound 2 year old.

When we arrived at the field I saw Michaela and her mom, I went over to say hi and told her to come on over to see Dan. The plan was in motion. When they came over Dan said “you’re baby is cute” (Look at the picture, she’s a cute baby) I said “Dan feel how light she is” and promptly shoved the baby at him so he couldn’t say no. The two looked at each other smiling for about 2 minutes making each other laugh. (I’m diabolical)

On the way home from the game he said” You know Ali is getting so big, she’s not a baby anymore.” I said, “I know” then he said, “I think maybe it’s time to have more” VICTORY! The only thing is that he said we could start trying in March... So not complete success but at least it’s less than a year! Thanks Michaela.

The Dog Bit the Baby

Before everyone gets all worked up, Ali is fine; she was only nipped in the hand.  Lara is a very old dog that looks like Toto from Wizard of Oz. She is really stupid, I’m not a mean person and I love all animals, but this is just a stupid dog. She just doesn’t get it. You’ll throw her a treat and she’ll let it hit her in the face and land on the ground while still staring at you to give her a treat. I think she’s just getting old; she pooped in the doorway on her way back inside. And the other day I was walking through the living room and I saw one of her teeth on the ground… that was kinda creepy. It reminded me of home alone, except instead of a piece of gold it was a nasty rotten dog tooth.
Sweet little Ali was about to walk over and pet Lara.  As she said “niceeeee,” and pets her on the head, the dog snapped at her and nipped her hand.  She didn’t bite her hand hard and didn’t break the skin (it’s a good thing she’s old and missing teeth), but she did scare the living crap out of my daughter.  Check out the amount of chocolate frosting I needed to calm her down:

It’s probably not a good idea for me to train her to crave chocolate when she injures herself. Next thing I know she’ll stub her toe and be hitting the Ben and Jerry’s. But for now, if the icing helps her forget her injuries, I’m OK with it.
So we don’t know what to do with this dog.  No one wants to put her down; she’s just so old. I know if it were up to my husband he would put her down personally. I asked him how would he like if it I put him down. HE told me if he got so old he was pooping in the doorway, he’d want to be put down … we didn’t get very far in this conversation.
As of right now we just gated of Lara in the dining room. The sad thing is she’s so dumb she probably has no idea why she’s in there, but what are we supposed to do? Just pretend it didn’t happen? Let he go on with her day like she did nothing wrong?
A dog attacked my youngest brother, Casey, once. When he was 6, our neighbors had a Shetland terrier (yes, there is a pattern here, terriers are evil, even those “cute” little yorkie’s). When our neighbors would go on vacation they would ask Casey to walk her for them. He and my mom would go over there and take care of Shea; they would feed her and let her out back. He had done it a few times; he would get all excited about it because it was his “job”. One time they went over there and when they opened the garage door Shea just attacked my brother; she bit him in the arm and stomach to the point where he was bleeding. My mom and Casey ran into their yard and shut the gate before the dog could get in, but now they were being held hostage. Thank God my mom had her cell phone, because she called my dad to save them from the yard. Casey was fine; he went the hospital and cleaned him up. His tummy was swollen from the bite so me and my brothers told him he was going to have puppies and they he may turn into a rabid animal, my parents weren’t to happy about that. … neither was Casey. Anyway, The neighbor gave my brother flowers and a $100 gift card to sports authority, so he got over it. My mom didn’t push to have our neighbor’s dog put down; they just weren’t going to go near her anymore. The neighbors hired a “dog whisperer” who swore she could train any dog. When she arrived at their house Shea attacked her. The dog whisperer had Shea put down.. I guess she had a rep to protect.
So for now Lara is still in the dining room and Ali is in the living room. We won’t be hiring a dog whisperer anytime soon, but no one will be throwing Lara any treats either.