The Weekly Austin - 8.31.09

Best Friends - 9.30.2008

Poolside

I recently received three big envelopes in the mail. Each was stuffed with old family photos. Apparently, my sisters have been emptying out my dad's house and distributing the millions of pictures he accumulated over the years.

As soon as I saw these two, I laughed. I have no idea where they were taken. I'd guess it's about 1981 or so, but the location escapes me. 

Who the heck drinks champagne from a paper cup, at the Ramada? Oh yeah, my dad.

I remember spending a lot of time in the water as a kid, both at the beach and at the pool. By the time I was four, I knew how to ask if the hotel had a pool, and figured out in about five minutes how to get there. I always had tan lines, always had tons of bathing suits, and back then, I didn't care what I looked like in them. "She swims like a fish!" my dad would say.

My Aunt Irene taught me to hold my breath and swim underwater, and how to body-surf. Mom taught me about riptides and currents, and Dad? Well, Dad mostly showed me how to look really goddamn cool.

Pugtastic Tuesday - 8.25.09

Staking Their Claim - 8.24.09

This new rug I picked up for the kitchen has quickly become the pugs' favorite hang-out spot. Alabama in particular loves to stretch out and snore in the sunshine.

The Weekly Austin - 8.24.09

Little Cheese - 8.23.09

Just before I took this picture, Austin figured out how to balance one Crayon on top of another. He thought it was the coolest thing ever. Hence, the cheezy grin.

That's Love

I love my husband.

That was the first thing that popped into my head this morning. Before I opened my eyes, I felt the weight of his arm on my hip, flopped over across my stomach. I could hear him breathing, not awake yet. This is my favorite time of day, my favorite way to wake up. Love. Love in bed next to me, dozing in soft morning light filtered through a thin curtain.

Then he wakes up, the mood is broken, and we descend into ridiculous tickling, belly-button poking, pulling of armpit hairs (his). But love's still there, just like always. It runs under the surface of everything, every day. Even in the middle of a fight, the blood thumping in my ears beats out love for him.

You Are My Goober, and I Love You - 4.01.07

Pugtastic Tuesday - 8.18.09

Today on "This Pug House," ... 10.30.06

The pugs dealt pretty well with all of our renovations, until we started on the kitchen. Pugly was very upset about having to eat breakfast on the patio, and 'Bama missed her rug by the sliding door where she spent hours laying in the sun. They expressed their concerns by leaving piles of poo on the rug in Austin's room. What can I say? I have classy, classy dogs.

The Weekly Austin - 8.17.09

Peepers - 7.14.09

I'm overflowing with love for this kid. My boy. My Bug. Bubba. Lil Man. Boo. A million nicknames for one little person. His baby chub is melting away and leaving a lean little boy behind. His face is taking on a more adult shape; hands and feet are growing and learning new tricks. But his eyes...his eyes are the same: Huge. Blue. Rimmed with long, black lashes that seem a stark contrast to his reddish-blonde hair. Eyes that are full of love and trust and joy.

My boy. I love you!

Kitchen? Oh Yeah, The Kitchen...

You may be wondering how the kitchen project is coming. I haven't written anything about it for a while, mostly because the people I see on a day to day basis are so goddamned sick of hearing about it that I can't get a word out.

Basically, the thing's done. I'm just waiting on countertops, and then some final plumbing hookups. The guy from Lowe's ("I'm hear to make a template, but I think instead I'll just stare at the tattoo on your chest.") was here yesterday, measuring and checking the cabinets to ensure that we're ready for the eleventy-billion pound load of LG HiMacs counter material. The installers will be back on the 20th to slap it all together, and then famous Dave, our plumber, comes the next day to hook up my sink, disposal, and -- can I get a HALLELUJAH?! -- DISHWASHER!

It's hard to describe what it's been like to live without a working kitchen for a month. I can't complain too much, thanks to my uber-patient hubby and my vast collection of random kitchen appliances (that electric griddle I gave Charlie so much shit about? LIFE. SAVER.). But damn, kids...doing dishes in the bathtub? There are no words for that suckage, let me tell you. My mom can tell you, though; her kitchen remodel took six months. SIX. Let that soak in. SIX MONTHS WITH NO MOTHER EFFING KITCHEN. And she didn't even KILL anybody!

Anyway, I'm not posting any pictures 'til everything's done, so you can get the full, dramatic "before and after" effect. Nine days to go!

Pugtastic Tuesday - 8.11.09

Where's Puggo?

We have a running joke about the random pug butts that show up in almost all of our pictures. Try to take a picture of just about anything, and at our house, a pug butt will show up somewhere. Take this lovely shot, for example. We were trying to document the "before" state of our bedroom (for the record, NONE OF THIS STUFF IS OURS, bleh!), and behold...a little pug butt. I usually don't catch it until we're looking at pictures, months later.

Blog Numbah Two!

I've decided to start a second blog chronicling my issues with weight and my current struggle to lose all these extra pounds. So, if you want to hear even more random stories from me, specifically those pertaining to my fat ass, head on over to Foodie vs. Fattie and check it out. I'm still working on the design, so be kind.

The Weekly Austin - 8.10.09

Give Daddy Loves - 7.14.09

Sometimes

Sometimes I miss sleeping until noon. Sometimes. Lazily rolling over, maybe sitting up briefly to read the paper and schlurp some coffee. Nowhere to be, no deadlines, no timelines, just morning.

Mornings now: a burst of whirlwind energy - get up feed the kid let the dogs out feed the dogs clean up kid say goodbye to hubs let the dogs back in WHEW! Then hours of play - don't hit me with your truck, NOT NICE. After that, it's silence while the kid sleeps and I find ways to avoid what I really should be doing (housework writing cleaning organizing exercising). Try as I might, I usually end up flopped on the couch with a Diet Coke, watching movies on Netflix. As soon as he stirs upstairs, I realize what I've not done (dishes lunch prep exercise letters dogs need OUT!).

And so goes my day, most days. Some days I stay on the ball, hausfrau in overdrive, and Hubs comes home to order (clean house clothes folded dinner on the table). Not today. Today I want to be in the dark, with curtains drawn, under covers and alone.

Pugtastic Tuesday - 8.4.09

In Repose - 5.24.07

Another "oldie but goodie" camera phone shot of the pugs. One of my favorite things about having two pugs is watching them snuggle with each other. Pugly pretends to loathe Alabama, but when it's nap time, all bets are off.

The Weekly Austin - 8.3.09

Sleeping Melon - 5.11.08

I tend to forget just how big and round Austin's head was when he was a little baby. It's still a pretty epic melon, but when he was only a couple of months old (like in this picture) it was worthy of "HEED! MOVE! NOW!"

iTunes Tells No Tales

I made a Twitter/Facebook post yesterday about Charlie's iTunes content; I was using his laptop, opened iTunes, and put it on shuffle. The results were a little scary. My friend Mike wanted to know what the "ten weirdest songs" were. That's hard to say, but here's his top ten most played:

1. "Boys of Summer" The Ataris

2. "I Drove All Night" Celine Dion

3. "Genie In A Bottle" Christina Aguilera

4. "White Flag" Dido

5. "Hot Stuff" Donna Summer

6. "Falls On Me" Fuel

7. "You and I Both" Jason Mraz

8. "One Step Closer" Linkin (I just threw up a little in my mouth) Park

9. "Miserable" Lit

10."Sweet Home Alabama" Lynyrd Skynyrd

To his credit, the highest play count on any of these is two. Meaning, he rarely listens to music on his computer. And these aren't the strangest or the most "O DEAR GOD WHO DID I MARRY"-inducing tunes, by far. I have the same reaction now that I did when I first perused his CD wallets, back when we were dating. Britney Spears? Ashlee Simpson? SAMANTHA FOX?! Holy hideous pop catalog, Batman!

Sometimes I wonder how he tolerates my music-nerdiness, my totally hypocritical snobbery about the pop music that I secretly enjoy. I wonder how a Camaro-driving, wrasslin'-watching, NASCAR-loving redneck ended up with me: the former emo queen, who only recently gave up vinyl for CDs, and downloaded more MP3s by more obscure bands than just about anybody I know. How did two such polar opposites end up dating, getting married, and having a kid? Oh yeah...'cause we make each other happy, we make each other laugh, and (maybe most importantly) all these little quirks actually bring us closer together. I tolerate Staind, he tolerates my random OCD urges to do stuff like, oh, count the silverware in the middle of the night.