These Boots Were Made For Walkin'

Well, I guess Nashville really is rubbing off on us. Last night our family was outfitted with real, genuine, cowboy boots (or as Harper likes to call her boots cowboy girl boots). Shoe shopping is not really my thing, but I have to say that I had a great time trying on all the boots.

Here's a picture of Harper trying on her boots. As my friend Ryan would say, it's a bad photograph but it's a good picture.

This is what we ended up with. 

Sage is counting her lucky stars that we didn't come home with a pair for her.

I'm happy. 

I'm The Boss and Cat Calling

This video depicts several things. First, it illustrates the power struggle that's currently brewing in our house. My mom tells me that I had this exact same conversation with my grandpa when I was about Harper's age. She comes by it honestly. Secondly, this video shows Harper's cat calling abilities. She's very interested in our cat these days. I can't say the feeling is mutual.

Bye Bye

Just when I think I'm starting to get the hang of this whole baby thing, Harper throws me a curveball covered in bodily fluids. On Saturday, she had a massive poopy diaper blowout that required a bath for both baby and mommy. On Sunday during a routine visit to Sam's Club, I got a free sample of bacon and gave Harper a tiny piece to try. She started to choke on it, coughed a lot, and threw up in my hands. To my credit, not a speck of poop or vomit got on anything except me and her. Who knew I had this hidden talent of poop manager/ vomit catcher? Anyway, on a cuter note, Harper loves to say goodbye to Sage the cat in the morning. This morning, not only did she say goodbye, she also decided to give Sage a kiss. (PS - Don't mind the mess. We're moving in 2 weeks and packing has commenced.)

Old Cat, New Trick

All things considered, we have a really good cat. She is friendly, clean, cute, patient with Harper, etc. Her one vice is that she likes to use our carpet as a scratching post. It's annoying. Up until last week, all we had to do to get her to stop was snap our fingers in her direction. Yeah. It really was that simple. She was afraid of snapping fingers and would stop immediately. Very convenient. Then last week, she had an epiphany. She realized that finger snapping couldn't actually hurt her and it was highly unlikely that we would actually get off of our butts to follow up the discipline. So, there it is. It only took her 4 years, but she finally figured it out. Who says you can't teach an old cat new tricks. 

I'm Not Touching You

Harper has learned a new game - "I'm Not Touching You".  Note the supersonic squeak. 

Weekend Update

What a busy weekend. Here's the rundown.

Friday:

1. Learned how to do microsurgery on the carotid artery of a mouse. 

2. Had a board game night with some good friends. I didn't win, but I should have.

Saturday:

1. Laundry. Lots and lots of laundry.

   

2. Attended a wonderful Christmas party.

Sunday:

1. Packing. Lots and lots of packing. 

2. Saw my neighbor's bare butt. I opened my front door and saw him getting his morning paper without any pants on. Not only was he missing pants, he also didn't have any underware on. In fact, the only thing he did have on was a t-shirt. When I opened my door, it startled him and he dove for his door. Seriously! Who does that? How long does it take to put on a pair of pants? I'm sure he's embarrassed (no pun intended), but I hope he learned his lesson. 

   

3. Road trip to Florida to spend Christmas with my parents. The cat puked again although this time I was able to aim her into the litter box. Some day I will remember to pick her food up the night before we leave.

   

Double Trouble

Let me tell you about the dogs we used to have. A couple of weeks after Rob and I got married, we decided that it would be a great idea for us to get a dog. He wanted a big dog and I always thought that Weimaraners were beautiful, so it was a pretty easy decision on what type of dog to get. We found a breeder and went out to his farm to visit the puppies (visit being the operative word). That night, we came home with two adorable little puppies. Why did we come home with any dogs, let alone 2, you may be wondering? Well, when we got there 1. the puppies were adorable (there was no way that we were leaving without one) and 2. I liked the girl puppy and Rob liked the boy puppy, so we got both. Great decision making. Anyway... we brought them home and they were wonderful. They were cute, calm, and well behaved (we didn't know it at the time, but they were calm and well behaved because they were sick - full of worms.) 

As most puppies tend to do, our puppies started to grow. And as they grew in size, their energy reserves grew as well. We did our best to tire them out. We walked them. We took them to the dog park. We encouraged them to wear each other out in the back yard. They were good natured dogs. 

At that time, Rob and I were working a lot. Our dogs spent long hours in their crates. Even though we tried to exercise them, it wasn't an ideal situation. In addition, by this time it was late fall. Our back yard was a mud pit. Every time the dogs went outside, they brought half of the yard back in the house with them. We were fighting a losing battle to keep our house clean. We had dirt and hair everywhere. I think that the air quality in the house was so bad that our house plants stopped growing. In addition, our sweet cat, Sage, was totally traumatized by the whole thing. I'm pretty sure that the only time she ventured down stairs was when the dogs were outside. 

It finally came to a point where I just couldn't take it any more. The dogs weren't living the kind of life that they should have been living and Rob and I were constantly bickering about the state of the house. The solution? We needed to find the dogs a new home. We called the breeder that we got them from. He said that he would be happy to take them back (long story short, he just got a divorce and his ex-wife took all of the family pets). Problem solved. The dogs would be able to live happily on a farm where they belonged. 

While I came to resent the dogs more than I liked them (I still have to be careful not to swear when I talk about them), Rob was really attached to them. It was difficult for him to let them go. Some day we'll probably have to get another dog. Rob is already plotting how he and Harper can gang up on me. Hopefully we will make better choices next time. Until that time comes, Sage and I will stick to our guns. 

Life Is Better In Florida

My parents really want us to move to Florida. To encourage us to do so, they bribe us. Yesterday, my dad took Rob golfing, my mom treated me to a massage, the cat spent all day by the pool, and Harper got to spend time with her biggest fan. 

Florida, Here We Come!

We made it! 10 hours of driving (plus a one hour time change) later, Rob, Harper, the cat, and I arrived at my parents' house to celebrate Thanksgiving. Despite the fact that 1. I almost left the house without any underware, socks, or bras and 2. the cat got car sick and puked on Rob's sandle-clad foot while he was driving, we had an uneventful trip. Rob drove the entire way which allowed me to sit in the back seat and entertain Harper. Now I can't say that I would recomend traveling long distances by car with a 9 month old baby, but I have to admit that it was easier than I expected (which is probably because I have the best baby in the whole world). She was fussy for about 30 seconds total and then she just played, ate, and slept the rest of the time. So awesome. The best part was that Rob and I got a nice chunk of uninterrupted time to talk and plan some exciting things that will hopefully come to fruition in the near future (stay tuned...). I'll do my best to keep you updated on our Turkey Day Week adventures. Until then, I hope you are all having a wonderful holiday too.

Harper Vs. Sage -- Round 1

It's a good thing we have a very patient cat...