Let's Go, Orange!

Are you ready for the Big Dance?
It's March Madness, little girl!
You know the drill.
You know who we root for.



After all, you've been studying your play book for weeks and weeks.
Let's go, Orange!!

Wordless Wednesday

From my flower beds comes life. Happy St. Patty's Day!

In Dog Years

I want to wish the Beagle a very, very happy 4th birthday today.



I had to drag Daddy to the farm where you were for sale.
You were on clearance, even.
I can't believe no one wanted you.
I did.
Immediately.
When I saw your tiny puppy face.



I had wanted a Beagle for ever and ever.
I had your name waiting.
Even though I still mostly call you Brown Dog.
Or, Brown Doggy.



Within a few weeks, Daddy loved you most.
I love how you liked him so much, you MADE him love you.
It must be that canine sense.



You'll always be my first baby.
You were the biggest thing Daddy and I did after we got married.
You've made us laugh.
And cuss.
And gloat.
And cry.
But not a lot.



I can't wait for all these next years with you in our home.
You're fiercely loyal.
Perceptive.
Sweet.
Predictable.
And us humans talk about you and FOR you more than any sane people should.



I am sorry I called you fat on the blog. You're mad. Yes you are. Would it be better if I called you phat?

We love you.
You made us parents.
And a family.
Conventional or not.
You were first.

We love you bigger than a Milkbone.
And more than the blankets in your bed.

Happy Birthday, Beagle.
Mama loves.

On Fitting In

For the Dad, it was a Bart Simpson "Slacker" t-shirt.
For me, it was a pair of Z Cavaricci jeans.
Considered 'the' items to make us fit in with our peers all those years ago.

Also considered 'the' item neither of our parents would buy. There is a lesson in there I am sure, as we both grew up just fine.

So Friday, when the Dad picked up the lil' dude from daycare and she was positively raving about 'the' item that everyone else had BUT her, we had a decision to make.



In the end, an $8 umbrella prevailed as the winner.
I'm sure we'll get to the jeans argument in a few more years.
But for now, there is a happy 2-year old just praying for rain for her and all her friends!

The Queen of Your Castle

It isn't always the easiest to make the best decisions as a family. Daddy and I both work full-time so we can put milk in your tummy, clothes on your tushie, and fun in your life. The evenings can be chaotic; managing a household, a child, a dog, a marriage ... all of those things we call life. And, please, sweetheart, don't misunderstand. We love every aspect of our life together, and our family and home. It's who we are. All I am saying, is sometimes, after work and daycare, it may be easiest to slip in a DVD or recorded show or movie for you to watch- while Daddy shovels snow or does laundry, while Mama makes dinner, or organizes things for the next day. While it may be easy; it might not be the best.

So, we make conscious efforts to spend our time with you- encouraging your imagination away from the television.

And engaging in all sorts of crazy fun playtime with you!



Because after all, the dishes can wait. So can everything else.
Except for you.

Fabricating fortresses for your favorite fairytalers.


Building beautiful buildings for your buddies.


Constructing castles for your kingdoms of creatures.

And look who is the Queen of your castle! I couldn't have built it better myself, sweetheart!

Winter Weight

We've got what they call a little bit of a weight problem here at the Casa de Lil' Dude.
I am referring to the Beagle.
He's large.
And he's in charge.

Typically, winter weight is something the Beagle packs on after his endless days of running around his kingdom and neighborhood wan due to the harsh Midwest winters we endure. By May Day, usually, he's looking more and more svelte, a product of the return of sunshine, the melting of snow-pack, and the incline of the thermometer.

But this year, he is extra winter-weighted. Neighbors have commented when they've seen us on walks through the puddles. My Dad commented two weeks ago. The aunties, randomly stopping to visit, have commented. Dinner guests and their children, all point and laugh at my poor, fat Beagle dog.

And I think I know what's going on here.



Take the heart of our two-year-old daughter, bigger than the sun, and her affinity for sharing what she's been given, no matter the recipient. But, in most cases, I am assuming her recipient has a tail. And long, brown ears. And turtle breath. And aside from raw potatoes, cold carrots, and errant pieces of fresh garlic, there is nothing this dog won't eat.

As we continue to battle the bulge, I have to find a way to make the lil' dude understand it's not OK to share her goods with her furry companion.

Sharing with people: good. Sharing with puppies: bad.

And too bad, what, with Easter right around the corner.
The Beagle? Totally loves him some jellybeans.

Wordless Wednesday