Monday, June 17, 2013

Let me tell you about my puppy

When I was a kid, we'd visit my grandparents in Florida almost every summer. I LOVED these trips and have many happy memories from them. I remember big things and small things about them. One weird little detail I remember is seeing bumper stickers on large American sedans that said "Let me tell you about my grandchildren." Even at a young age, I knew that those bumper stickers meant (1) that car would be moving very slowly, and (2) I wanted to avoid getting stuck in a conversation with that sweet couple. Well, now I want to find one of those couples so we can spare the people around us and they can tell me about their grandchildren and I can tell them about my puppy.

Here is Lacy at 12 weeks. She weighs 12.5 pounds (her adult weight will be 55-70 lbs). She is definitely looking less like a puppy to me and more like a dog.

Her first smile:

I'm still the one who gets up with her in the morning, usually in the 5:30 range, and David takes her out late at night. She's still a lunatic when she first wakes up. I've started taking her on walks after she does her business to work off some of that energy. It usually works, because she pretty much conks out when we get home.

Her "Whatchoo talkin' about Willis?" look:

Here she is chewing on a stick. This generally buys us 30 seconds before we need to stop her from chewing on something more dangerous, like mushrooms of indeterminate origin, or the Calico Critters dalmation family, or one of her siblings.

Chewing on a dwarf Japanese holly bush:

She loves her daddy. She immediately rolls over for a belly rub when she sees him.

Actually, she immediately rolls over for a belly rub whenever she meets most new people. She runs up to them, tail wagging furiously, then pees out of the sheer excitement of it all, then she rolls over for a belly rub. You can't buy that kind of charm.

Thursday, June 13, 2013

Laid back summer days

I've definitely suffered the stress of wondering if I was going to run out of gas many times before, but never two days in a row. That's because typically if the gas light goes on, I do what most normal people do and get myself to a gas station pronto, and then, after a silent moment of gratitude for making it to the gas station, I fill up my tank. But yesterday my gas light went on as I was rushing home with the girls from swim lessons to make our appointment with the dog trainer. So I didn't stop for gas because I didn't want to be late for the dog training appointment. And then after that was over, I had to take Elizabeth to soccer practice, and we were again running a little late, so I pulled into a gas station and put like $4.00 worth of gas in the tank -- just enough gas to get her to practice, but not enough to make a meaningful change to my low gas situation. And then I forgot that I was still low on gas (since the $4 was enough to turn the light off for like 5 minutes) so the VERY NEXT DAY, I found myself in the exact situation of being almost out of gas when we were leaving swim lessons. This time, I was rushing to get Elizabeth to piano lessons on time, so once again I gambled and didn't stop for gas. Both things (the prospect of running out of gas and the prospect of being late) stress me out big time so it was a tough call, but I figured that since I HAD put $4.00 in yesterday, I probably had enough gas to get her to piano (I am not a car person at all, and I hope that I can drive my 7 year old minivan for another 7 years, but when I do get a new car, my one must-have feature will be a gas gauge that tells me exactly how many miles I have left to drive until empty. That would be so much more helpful than the gas light, which could mean I have 40 miles and could mean that I have 1/4th of a mile left. Oh, the camera that shows you what you are about to hit when backing up would be helpful too.)

Anyway, after I dropped Elizabeth at piano I pulled into a gas station with Caroline and gave my car a proper fill up. And we don't have any appointments after swim lessons today. I think I'll roll down my windows, crank up the Daft Punk and thoroughly enjoy the anxiety-free ride home from swim lessons!