And then there were two…

 No Responses »
Feb 222010
 

IMG00339-20100217-1344

I’m a really bad dog mom. Well, at least I am now that I’m Mom to Human child. Just ask my dogs. They’ll tell you that the trips to the parks where they could run free and the walks that went on for hours and weren’t limited by when they baby got tired of sitting in the stroller and their mugs announcing our good wishes on Christmas cards all went out the window the moment I pushed the baby out.

I swore it would never happen. Until it actually did, I never understood how it could. These furballs were are my babies.

And for all intents and purposes, they were much easier to handle than the real thing. No labor, dirty diapers, growth spurts, or opinions. They probably think I’m crazy for having crossed over to the Dark Side and took the perks with me.

Finnigan, the little terrier, is King of all Puppydom. Just ask him. He’ll tell you. Just be sure to never directly look him in the eyes, always refer to him as Master and Commander, and that purse you’re carrying had better damned well be for your own crap because His Royal Puppiness doesn’t do the Purse Pal schtick.

Francis is the loyal servant. He tries too hard to please, still flinches when someone raises their voice for any reason, and always falls asleep on the bed with his tail wagging and a thankful sigh. It makes sense. I found him on a Detroit freeway with open wounds and a pinch collar embedded in his neck. Now, he’s living the life. And he knows it.

Their relationship was built on tolerance. Specifically, Finn would tolerate Francis only because Finn knew that Cat loved Francis. Then we lost Cat. And when I got home from that horrible trip to the vet where I came home with one less dog, I found this furry little odd-couple calling a truce. They know that Cat’s gone. They know they’ve only got each other now. And the extra unsolicted puppy kisses being doled out tell me that they’re quite happy as part of my little pack.

Bad Dog Mom is now Thankful for What She Has Left.

And for my next trick…

 6 Responses »
Feb 212010
 

To whom it may concern:

I would like to put my name in the running for the next Non-Celebrity Skechers Spokesperson. I’m specifically interested in pimping your Shape-Ups line of footwear and believe you will see the benefits of a partnership.

For simplicity’s sake, please refer to the following list:

1) I can make the unbelieving believe. Up until last week, I thought your shoes were the footwear equivalent of the Pontiac Aztek on the Ugly Scale. And frankly, I still do. But I’m not 21 anymore and more willing to see the reason in comfort over fashion. Want to break more walls down? I’m your girl.

2) Your tag line: “Get in Shape Without Setting a Foot in the Gym,” doesn’t exactly ring true for an overweight mom like me when you’ve got Skinny, Long Legs, and Super Cute attached to the product.

I’m not saying to go and fire your current models. I’m sure they’re perfect for your glossy fashion magazine ads, but if you’re reading this it means you want to Use the Power of Social Media to expand your reach. That means me, other mothers, and plenty of cellulite.  Want more sales? Put a face (or my blog) with your product that your target audience can relate to and you’ve got magic.

Trust me on this. Now please proceed to #3…

3)  I’m writing a book about my quest to find my waistline (and the ass I once thought was fat but now really, really miss) and well, this is just an opportunity to get in on the ground floor. You know, while I’m still nowhere near famous and will be happy with just a pair of shoes.

4)  I have a jogging stroller, a dog, and live in a subdivision hilly enough to piss me off in regular running shoes walking at a snail’s pace. Just think of the blog posts and segments in my book dedicated to your shoes, my ass, and how I just can’t wait to get back outside to tackle the next hill because Shape-Ups are so flippin’ comfy?

Seriously, how much more of a perfect guinea pig can you get?

5) I have no shame. Seriously. Have you read my blog? I’m probably going to be purchasing a pair of my own Shape-Ups tomorrow, with my own The Husband’s money, but I’m not opposed to allowing Skechers to sponsor my monthly Baby F(Ph)at Essay Contest. One winner a month. Lots of exposures. Still a hell of a lot cheaper than Carrie Underwood.

You do the math.

6) Do I really think this is gonna work? No. Do I care? Not really. But I’ve spent the last 48 hours debating on what color combination to buy myself and well, you just sending me a pair would really speed up the decision making process.

7) It would also allow me to regain some dignity as The Husband cannot guilt trip me for not spending money, right? So really, you’d be doing me a huge favor.

8) I’m a sucker for staying true to a brand once I’ve gotten hooked. Go ahead. Feed the addiction.

9) My posture sucks, my ab muscles shot to hell in a hand basket once I pushed my baby out, and my thigh and butt muscles all need major work but I can’t afford plastic surgery. This reason alone is probably enough to have me back at the mall tomorrow buying my own pair because I really don’t know the definition of patience, but I’m not opposed to expanding my shoe collection before I’ve even started it.

10) Honestly, I really don’t have a tenth reason. I just needed a blog post tonight.

Perspective

 3 Responses »
Feb 192010
 

IMG00147-20100112-1600

I see a bike rack. She sees a magic tunnel.

“Mama! Mama! Can I?”

We’re leaving a doctor’s office and I am in a hurry. It’s already 5 p.m. and I still need to get dinner started, Buttercup’s bath and story time in before bed, and then get The Husband prepped for work so he can leave at 11 with a thermos of hot coffee and a lunch cooler. I want to get home now so I can move so fast that perhaps time will speed, allowing me the small luxury of momentary freedom from the constant craziness that much sooner.

“Mama? See the tunnel?” She’s tugging at my pants, just itching to follow her imagination wherever it may lead her.

I sigh as I release my child, laugh as I hear her squeals of happiness in its purest form.

To me, it’s a bike rack. But to Buttercup, it’s a magic tunnel.

Time has stopped. Dinner can wait.

Show, don’t tell

 1 Response »
Feb 182010
 

I’m knee-deep in netbook accessorizing hell (because really…it *is* an accessory). See, I specifically chose a black hp Mini because it went so well with the Chloe Dau clutch netbook sleeve I’ve been eyeing. But because my mind didn’t grasp the concept of a 6 cell battery working wonders for cutting my ties to the nearest wall but sucking it up when trying to fit said netbook into said clutch sleeve, well, I’m back to square one.

I’ve settled in a pretty and practical Golla sleeve (to keep my new baby safe from my other baby) after driving everyone I know bonkers. And because that damned 6 cell is in my way, the plan for fitting the mini in my pretty Fossil purse I got for my birthday is totally out the door.

So really, people, you can see how I’m being forced to shop, yes?

***

@aspiringmama: I *need* a lucky brand messenger tote to carry my new netbook for my writing conference. NEED, dammit! Why can’t men understand this!?

@ing3nu: perhaps if you hit him in the head with the net book it would all become clear ? ;)

@aspiringmama: hmmmm….interesting tactic.

@ing3nu: It rolls under that whole “show don’t tell” writers’ meme :D

***

Sage advice, my friend. Very sage advice, indeed.

Catherine the Great: May 15, 2003-February 17, 2010

 2 Responses »
Feb 172010
 

IMG00333-20100217-1036IMG00323-20100216-1533(2)IMG00334-20100217-1107Thank you, Catherine, for having chosen us to be your family. We love you, baby girl. And we’ll always remember you.

 Older Entries  Newer Entries
Copyright 2010 Aspiring Mama Suffusion theme by Sayontan Sinha
Social links powered by Ecreative Internet Marketing