Neurotic

John and I went to the Dr. to get my due date and hear the heart beat. I never knew that there were feelings out there like the one I got when I heard and saw that quickly beating heart. I'm not going to spend my entire blog discussing my emotions (lord knows I'm everywhere when it comes to that) regarding my pregnancy, for I'm sure that it is nowhere near as exciting to you guys as it is to me, but damn, I've never felt anything like this before.

The astounding thing was the change of mind frame instantaneously from a central concern radiating around John and I to a more global concern of, "Oh my God, are we going to be able to do this?" I mean, you'd think that me getting pregnant wouldn't have caught me off guard like it did, after all, we have been trying for about eight months now... Still though, when that little pee stick told me that my life was about to change forever, I was shocked.

John was even more taken aback by the situation then I was. I called him in to tell him that we were pregnant and he didn't believe me! He said, "You're not pregant..." In a slightly dismissive tone, kind of like the one that people use when they think that someone is being a crybaby. You know, that one that usually accompanies a sentence like, "Come on get up, I didn't hit you that hard." I assured him, that indeed the stick of truth indicated that either something was very odd about my pee, or we were going to be having a baby in a little less then a year. Upon viewing said stick, his eyes got huge, and he uttered the words that I will always remember: "Oh my God, it says your pregnant, do it again!"

Flashes of the movie Knocked Up came to my mind, especially the scene which involves a shopping expedition solely for the purpose of buying every last kind of pregnancy test out there and a subsequent night of using every last one of them up. I love John for his reactions, they make me laugh, namely, making my world so much better. This is one memory that will be tucked away for future use and I'm sure, told at many a family gathering until everyone is sick of hearing about it, and probably even a few times after that.

John and I spend much of our time theorizing about how our children are going to look, behave, and I guess, just be... We've even thought about our hopes and dreams for their future; Like being in a happy, healthy relationship, getting a good education, making money doing what they love... All the things that I'm sure every parent frets about. I wonder if it's ok that I'm pondering all these things, seeing as how my baby is a little bit bigger then a grain of rice right now, and isn't even recognizable as a male or female. I've always been the kind of person to take life as it comes, but this, my God, there should be a manual with step by step instructions to follow.

So, with my neurosis exposed for all the world to see, I'll bid you a goodnight. I hope that you have a much more calming reflective thinking process then I do, for the world would be a crazy place if we all worried about things we can't control, oh wait, most of us do anyway... That explains a few things.

Family First

So, my house is rather full. I share this humble abode with my husband, John who does multiple chores, including taking the trash out for me, eating my food--complimenting me on it--and putting the dishes in the dishwasher. He tells me I'm beautiful, and, hold your breath ladies, this is a big one, he even puts laundry in the washing machine sometimes. I love him so much, for he has made such a wonderful father to our children.

We are parents to five beautiful children. Our house offers proof of the massive challenge we face in raising them with everything that they could ever possibly desire. Toys of all shapes, types and sizes litter our floor, along with various treats and other accessories. Upon first glance it is easy to tell that we like to spoil our children and indulge them and their sense of style. The coolest bedding cloaks their dream land, and they only wear the prettiest clothing.

I entered this relationship with one child from a previous marriage--Halea. She's an all American girl and at the ripe age of 8, has finally learned just exactly how to coexist with the rest of the pack. I think that maybe John married me because he wanted to have Halea in his life and sometimes he admits that she's a much better listener then I am, probably because she doesn't talk back much.

Being the Pit Bull that she is has given her immeasurable patience and a willingness to sit right next to him while he yells at the video game he is currently trying to defeat, or enjoys a leisurely afternoon watching TV in bed. She most definitely is head honcho of the herd, yet she rules with a strong, but tender paw. Sometimes I wonder how she puts up with the other four Germans that make up her tribe.

Brutus, our Dachshund, came into our lives almost a year ago. He hails as a new start in a new life for John and I. Being born on the day that John and I officially became a couple (how high school teenybopper do I sound?), he held a dear place in our hearts even before we got off the phone with his breeder. Such a perfect date could mean only one thing, a perfect dog.... uh, yeah, he's cool now, it took a little while, and a few hundred rolls of paper towels, but he finally figured out what the Great Outdoors are really for.

Brutus and Halea have grown rather close, well, Brutus is enamored with Halea, and Halea could care less as long as she has a comfortable bed to lay in and daddy to sneak her food off of the dinner table even though mommy yells at him every time she catches him. Two was just not good enough, so we felt that a third child was in the future for us. Cue the lights and music... In walks Timber.

Timber lumbered into our lives with only one thing going for him: He loved us, because we loved him and gave him food. I think that the order of those two things might have been reversed seeing as how Timber was emaciated when we rescued him, packing a mere 70 lbs onto a Great Dane frame meant to hold 120-200 lbs. Being a frat dog had not turned out so hot for Timber, so he was more then happy to join our budding pack.

Somehow along the way, Timber never did quite figure out how to lay down properly and took to swaying from side to side, until eventually he would knock himself off of his feet, thus collapsing to the floor, and with a great heaving sigh, finally throw his head down to rest and promptly spreading his lips out on the floor to begin the process of deep breathing necessary to sleep off his full belly. The deafening, crashing sound Timber creates upon tucking himself into bed earned himself his name, and he has lived up to it since.

Karma, our Rottweiler is a baby, and was purchased for the sole fact that John has always wanted a Rottweiler... He pampers her, fawns over her, and even walks her proudly down the road while she flaunts her pretty pink leash and harness, that we just "had to have" for her. He comes home and talks to her telling her how much he loves her and cradles her in his arms like the 50 lb baby that she is.

Our youngest child, Otis, is a mommas boy. His slim little wiener shaped body accompanies me on long nights of studying in front of the computer, dutifully maintaining the temperature of my lap at a consistent too hot degree. I have grown accustomed to typing around his gigantic ears, and studying Calculus from a book that he has designated his pillow first, and my property second.

I couldn't feel more blessed to have such a diverse and large family. Although we have our family squabbles as every family does, they are usually resolved without displays of teeth or too much complaining. So for now, I will leave you with probably all too much information about our family, and that feeling you get sometimes when you read something that is just not really relevant one way or another... You know, that "Why did I start reading this again?" feeling. So goodnight to you all, and I promise eventually I will have something better to write about besides my dogs.