Tax Break Pack, on the way

Well, for anyone (or maybe just that one person out there...) who reads this blog (namely, you), as you may have guessed, I am indeed pregnant. 16 weeks today. And for anyone who can help with my current dilemma, do I tell people I am 16 weeks pregnant? Or 3 to 4 months? And how do I count months? Because with weeks, I am not 16 weeks until 16 weeks have passed and technically, I am in my 17th week, right? And if that trend remains, does that mean that though I am actually in my 4th month, I am still only 3 months? But then how am I in my second trimester when the first trimester ended at 3 months? And further, does that mean that I at some point will be 10 months pregnant? Holy Cow...See my confusion? Anyways, I digress. Or progress into an area that should be off limits (the scattered corners of my swirling black hole of a mind). Back to the land of the sane.

I think it's funny to tell people that I have a non-contagious parasite. It usually takes them aback. Jin, retreat.

This movement out of my crazy brain is not working, so I am just going to keep going. For those of you who have something better to do, like clean out your refrigerator, please feel free to go now, before you, too, are sucked into a never ending abyss of fragmented thoughts, and illogical logic.

First, I was super sick for a few weeks, and then decided that God would not make me that sick just for one little baby, so I must be having twins. Well, we went to the hear the heartbeat at our last doctors appointment, and we only heard one, and I swear to God, instead of enjoying the moment of hearing those 157 beats per minute, I looked at Chris, confused, because the damned nurse wasn't even trying to look for the second heartbeat. So, eventually, I decided that Baby number 2 (fondly named Morris the Second) was probably hiding under Baby number 1 (Elvis the First). And that even though we only HEARD one heartbeat, it only means that Morris is shy.

Also, during the first trimester, I lost a whopping 4 pounds. A guy at work, who didn't know I was pregnant, just said to me the other day, that I had gained weight in the area between my neck and my butt. We figure he probably just meant my boobs, which by the way, currently need their own area codes. He also said my face was skinnier. So, I guess it evens out. I mean, who doesn't look at the skinny faced girl with the giant knockers? Anyways, so I was pretty proud of myself for still fitting in my clothes, and not gaining too much weight (which was good, since my nurse practitioner said I was only allowed to gain 15 lbs because I was already so heavy...all muscle, probably). And then it happened. I went to work in the morning and came home. I put sweatpants and a t-shirt on, which is my favorite outfit, since it is loose, thereby NOT pushing any food I eat, back out the way it came in. Well, I went to put some jeans on to go back to work to shut the drawers down and lock the doors, when something terrible happened. My jeans didn't fit. It was like my belly was the little temperature thing that is put in meats when they cook. You know, those little things that pop out when they are done? Well, that was my belly. It just popped out. I walked into the bathroom and turned sideways, and said to myself, Holy Crap, where did that come from? So, I shoved myself in my jeans (and to be fair, they had just come out of the dryer), and then went to work, practically crying because now, I had to pee, I was hungry, and I felt like a stuffed sausage. And for those of you out there going, "You just ate too much while you were at home", let me respond with, no I did NOT. And while I can no longer remember what I ate, I do remember that it wasn't a lot. So hah. Anyways, I came home in a fighting mad mood, and promptly went online and bought some clothes. (you are all thinking...good, some maternity clothes you'll fit in to.) Nope. I went to Victoria's Secret and bought some jeans. These have a lower waist, so I figure I'll just let the belly go OVER the top. Funny thing, later that night, my jeans fit just fine. I'm guessing that the baby was rebelling, and stuck his arms and legs straight out in front of him, saying, "Hey, Mom, give my some chocolate cake!"

Speaking of him, back when Chris and I lived in Hawaii, we went to Dave and Busters, and did the "morph two faces together" booth. We wanted to see what our kids would look like. And here is the winner....

We're hoping that they do an asian remake of "The Munsters" because our child will be a perfect fit for Eddie Munster. And we've already bought him the tuxedo, because what child DOESN'T wear one around?

Anyways, that's my pregnancy so far...more exciting than Chris and I. Not as exciting as the dogs.

Cuddling...

So, Raisin has turned into our cuddle/needy/always gotta be touching someone or something puppy. His favorite place to lay down is right behind your feet, wherever you are, usually with his bottom just barely touching you. He is also fond of laying on Eden...no matter how content she is. In fact, it is usually when she is at her most unintrusive that he goes over and lays on her. Then, soon, the licking and nipping begins, quickly to progress to full on biting and wrestling. Then, the peace of my home is shattered.

Here is a quick rundown of how it goes...


Notice Eden, sitting quietly in her favorite spot (against the cabinet with her head peeking out so that she can see what's going on without having to move because she's in the way). Rai, on the other had, looks harmless enough, but in actuality, has formed a plan to wiggle his way into Eden's arms/paws/short stubbers.



As you can see, he's putting his plan into action with Phase One: Pretend that I, too, am just laying down. As it happens, I am doing it nearby to Eden, even with some body to paw contact, but never fear. That is incidental, and not at all what I am going for. And again, notice Eden. At this point, she knows what is coming, and is looking at me like, "Jeez, Mom, aren't you going to make him leave me alone?"



And, Alas, the invasion has begun. Eden put her head down to just lay down quietly and rest, and Rai promptly put his head right on top of hers, as if, Oh, Eden's head is there? What a nice pillow! So nice of her to do that for me!



Eden then realizes that, hey, Raisin has a FAT HEAD attached to a heavy body, so I'm going to move mine. Then, thump, Rai has dropped down the the ground...oh, wait, no, it's not the ground. It's right into Eden's waiting paws! She's holding me, and she loves me and I, of course, did nothing to create this position. It really is just how much she cares for me.



And then, it degenerates. Notice that while this picture is not rotated correctly, you can still tell that Eden is attempting to eat Raisin's ear. So much for a peaceful time inside.

The Curse of the Puppies

Recently, Chris and I filled out brackets for the NCAA tournament, as part of a thing with my family. We also made a side bet...if Chris did better than me, he could hang his giant UVA flag in the office (currently it is relegated to the garage...). If I won, Chris would have to hang out with me doing what I wanted for a full 10 minutes. I originally tried 20, but he can only hide his irritation for so long. Usually, I want to do things like talk about subjects he thinks are stupid (like why we buy Christopher eggs, and not Egglands, or generic; or why Starburst Jelly Beans are way better than any other brand...I think he thinks that those conversations are not useful in the whole scheme of life...). Sometimes, I want to have thumb wars, or watch all of my favorite scenes from my favorite movies (Flashdance, Girls Just Wanna have Fun, Footloose, and Fame...all classics!). I think what he hates the most is when I want him to find me something to eat. Currently, I seem to be incredibly indecisive, and often decide that we don't have anything in the house, and need to go grocery shopping (which he also hates...). Clearly, I am some kind of torturer.

Anyways, that story has almost nothing to do with the pictures. The other day, UVA and Wisconsin were playing, so Chris got out his hats to cheer the teams on. He decided to make the dogs cheer along with him, so we tried to put the hats on the dogs. Then, both teams lost. I blame the puppies.

Here's Eden, trying to avoid cheering for Wisconsin. They say that dogs have better senses than humans. Maybe she knew they were going to lose...



In this one, Eden is still putting up a fight.



Rai was much better at wearing the hats. It's probably because when he wore the hat, we gave him some waffle. And he would do anything for food.



Of course, it could also be that Rai doesn't have Eden's keen senses. He IS the puppy who tries to scratch his head while walking...



And here's Eden, trying to inform Rai of the impending doom. Or she likes to eat hats.

The Long Stalk

Since the beginning of time, animals have played, often simulating real life experiences as they learn the best and most effective ways of succeeding in those real life moments. My super smart dogs are no exceptions. They, too, must learn to hunt and stalk their prey, for that time may arrive when their food might unexpectedly move, or leap out of their bowls. One never knows.

The other day, Raisin was inside the house with me, as I puttered around the kitchen (did you just say "puttered", Jin? Why, yes I did.). All of the sudden, he ran to the door, and then over to the window, both of which face our backyard. So, I let him outside. But, instead of his usual running leapy bound off the porch, he took two steps, and then sat down. So, I shut the door and watched him. That's when I noticed that he had become "The Prey". Eden had "hidden" herself behind the legs of our table, and was stalking him. She sat that way for at least 10 minutes, while Rai kept a good eye on her while he sat by the door. Eventually, he got tired of waiting for her to start playing, so he bounded to the left of the grill. Then he bounded to the right of the grill. Then he ran over to her and then ran away real quickly. Sensing that she had lost the element of surprise, Eden decided to go after her prey.


Eden, hunter extraordinaire.




Still watching...




10 minutes later...




Rai, watching Eden...




Such primal creatures, they are...

Death of a Turtle

On the day Eden came home with us, our friends brought over a cute turtle toy with a squeaky thing in it. We named it Turtle. Every night since then, Turtle has lived in Eden's crate. She moves it around and puts her head on it. She guards it from Rai, who covets it. She licks Turtle's little paddle arms. And the other day, she killed it. Now, she is Turtle-less...Well, it lasted almost a year. Longer than Rai's last squeak (less than a day.)