That's it, you're going in time out...

The "baby" is now over a year and half. Can I still call her a baby? And since I'm asking, can I still call it baby fat? What about maternity pants? Why do Pajama Jeans still look so appealing? Where's my credit card...

Anyway, now that we are screaming (literally) toward our terrible two's it's time to set some tough limits.

Audrey didn't appreciate it.

The other day was a changing point in the parent-child-dog relationship when my beautiful sweet child crawled her little fat self onto the couch to pet her dog, instead grabbing the sleeping wiener dog by the EARS and throwing her to the floor.

Oh no she did not just do that...

For the first time in her life, I picker her up by her arms and sat this kid down in time out.

Cue hysterics.

Hers, not mine.

She cried and cried and cried and I stood there telling her NO and that she hurt the dog and that was a Bad Bad Bad thing.

Worst part is that my kid is hilarious. Like really hilarious.

In the midst of my lecture (that I'm sure was more for show for the dog than for her), she looks up at me, red teary eyes, drool from the mouth and says, "Hi Mama"...waving and all.

The fact that I wasn't able to keep a straight face probably just ruined any shot I had at discipline in the future.


Oh yeah and then there's her father...

She doesn't like to be in trouble and at the slightest hint of discord, will throw her arms around your neck giving you the warmest sweetest little hug and smile in the world. How do you say 'manipulative little bugger' in kid speak?

The last time she did this in front of us both, I just looked at Rutherford with that 'see how she is?' look I have come accustomed to showing him.

All he says is "I'm buying everything she's selling".

I am so screwed.

Yeah so cute, 2 seconds later she flipped the dog water bowl all over the kitchen floor.

What do you guys do when you're supposed to be serious and you just...can't. Is it like my brother used to tell me he would think of them he, ahem, needed to calm down..."Margret Thatcher naked in the snow...Margret Thatcher naked in the snow...dead puppies..dead puppies.."

Watch me have no idea what I'm doing. Or, Day 1.

So I need to find a book. 

Something along the lines of “Starting a blog for Dummies”. I’m sure someone has written it, there is a For Dummies book for everything now days. I once bought a book called “Training Dachshunds for Dummies”. Seriously. I knew at the time that they just cut and pasted the word ‘dachshund’ on the cover from the Poodle book and charged $25 for it…but I bought it anyway. Because I am a sucker. My dachshund now prances around on her hind legs, has a stupid haircut and speaks with a French accent, but that’s normal right?

Anywho..

Back to the blog.

So I decided I want to start a blog because I think I am THAT interesting. Kidding. I am not. I am not that interesting I mean, not the kidding part.

Ugh, this blogging thing is hard.

Back to work. I should probably introduce myself...

So this is me, in a nutshell:

Help! I’m in a nutshell!

Ta-da! That was my Austin Powers impersonation. So as you can see I’m really funny. Actually, my sister-in-law Sarah (I just made you famous Sarah! You’re welcome!) told me once that I am funnier on the Internet than I am in person. Therefore, you are in luck.

Okay, more about me…

I am a stay at home mama to a 9 month old baby girl, Boogie, and the other half to which I am better, is my dream boat Rutherford. (Names changed to protect the innocent.)

I am also personal slave to 2 miniature wiener dogs, hence the For Dummies book. We will, furthermore, refer to them as the fat one and the little one. They have actual names but even at home on a daily basis, we call them this. 

We live in the suburbs of Phoenix. Yeah, half the time we don’t know why either but it is lovely in the fall, winter and spring if you can survive the summer with all it’s scorpions, rattlesnakes and 120 degree heat. So. Not. Kidding.

I could go on and on....but I will spare you all the boring parts about how I am terrible at running and yet am planning on doing a marathon (WTH!), I HATE BIRDS and miniature golf courses make me want to jump off a bridge. What is up with those anyway? The best part about golf is swinging the club as hard as you can. You can't do that at a miniature golf course unless you want to take out someone grandma and a tiny version of the Sphinx. Dumb. 

In the end I cannot guarantee that I will blog every day, or every week for that matter. I do have a life, kinda. And I cannot guarantee that it will be even the slightest bit interesting to anyone but myself. But I can promise that it will be real, it is my life after all. I see having a blog as part personal diary, part therapy and part stand up comedy. Some days will be more of one and less of the others and every now and then I will throw in some helpful tidbits of advice or interesting information I come across.

I'm sure I will evolve and get more interesting with every post and maybe someday have millions of faithful followers. Until then, constructive criticism is welcome, however, I am a delicate flower so be kind. :) .

Here I go, guess there's no turning back now....