The love of a good dog

I’ve been wondering if Mocha and Belle can sense their lives are about to be seriously disrupted by a new human sister.

Having the two foster dogs for a few months may have been good practice for them. (Side note: The two foster dogs had to go other foster homes since I couldn’t possibly conceive of having four dogs, a newborn and family in from out of town all at once.)

I let the girls go in the nursery and sniff around. No doubt they will sniff the baby from head to toe several times just to make sure she’s an acceptable new pack member.

We also made sure we invested in a diaper device that seals the dirty diapers in a closed up can. Belle has a tendency to explore the trash and may find, as only a dog can, dirty diapers ever so appealing.

So in honor of Mocha and Belle – soon to be protecting their newest pack member – here’s a nice take on dogs that someone forwarded me a in an e-mail some time back.

If I Didn’t Have Pets:
• I could walk around the yard barefoot in safety.
• All flat surfaces, clothing, furniture, and cars would be free of hair.
• When the doorbell rings, it wouldn't sound like the kennels.
• When the doorbell rings, I could get to the door without wading through fuzzy bodies who beat me there.
• I would not have strange presents under my Christmas tree -- dog bones, stuffed animals, nor would I have to answer to people why I wrap them.
• The most used words in my vocabulary would not be: out, sit, down, come, no, stay, and leave him/her/it ALONE.
• My pockets would not contain things like poop bags, treats and an extra leash.
• I would no longer have to spell the words B-A-L-L-, F-R-I-S-B-E-E, or W-A-L-K.
• I would not have as many leaves INSIDE my house as outside.
• I would not look strangely at people who think having ONE dog ties them down too much.
• I would not have to answer the question:: "Why do you have so many dogs/animals?" from people who will never have the joy in their lives of knowing they are loved unconditionally by something as close to an angel as they will ever get.

Look at what I've done for you

We’re down to the final two weeks. Now, it’s just a waiting game, which is incredibly unnerving for someone like me who thrives on planning and structure. But unfortunately, babies don’t really give any hints as to when they might like to make their grand entrance.

I have been thinking about some of the things I’ve given up during my pregnancy. I thought it might be nice to compile a list, giving me something to pull out when my daughter is, say 8 years old and won’t clean her room, or is 16 and tries to back talk. I can pull these out of the mom guilt closet:

• I cut back on caffeine, going to Starbucks only once a week or less.
• My exercise routine went downhill in a big way because I either felt too ill, tired or fat to do anything.
• I gained 30 pounds.
• I stopped wearing high heels. I’m the person who sacrifices comfort for style and is drawn to the highest heels I can find. This was a biggie.
• I scaled back on some extracurricular activities and volunteer work.
• I traded in normal clothes for a limited wardrobe of elastic-waist pants and unexciting tops.
• I shed a lot of tears worrying about whether I’ll be a good mother.
•I didn’t eat hotdogs or blue cheese salad dressing for months.

I think that’s a good starting point. Surely some of those will inspire a child to clean her room or whip a teenager into shape. Well, at least I can try.

Stick a fork in me

With about three weeks to go until my Feb. 6 due date, I'm officially done with being pregnant.

The last few weeks, in particular, have been, well, miserable. My stomach feels like a 100-pound lead weight, my back hurts, I have indigestion when I eat, I pee every two hours (or less) and I can't possibly get comfortable enough to get a decent night's sleep.

This baby should feel free to arrive anytime. I'm ready. I realize after she arrives, I'll still be a physical mess and my lack of sleep won't be due to frequent bathroom trips but to frequent feedings and diaper changes. But, at least it will be a new stage of discomfort.

After months of planning, worrying, stressing, shopping and preparing for her arrival, I'm just ready for the big day. This last month is definitely tough. I'm beginning to seriously question the sanity of women who choose to go through this multiple times. Their minds must just block out the misery and choose instead to focus on the joys of parenthood.