Mi Amore.

Christmas came early for me this year....

Coming soon: chargrilled beagle.

Hey everybuddy. C'est moi, Baby-Wrangler extraordinaire!

I have treated myself to a new laptop that I can cart around the house with me, so now I can blog at the drop of the hat. Should be a big improvement over my older (slower than Methusalah) laptop.

The beagle is totally smoking me out right now. He's lying next to me on the couch (as lying on the floor would be completely unacceptable). BTW, his new nickname is "Dead Last." He used to be "First," and now that the baby has arrived, he has subsequently been re-shuffled in the pecking order (not only is he "last"....he's "dead last").

Indeed, the couch, chairs, and bed are the only surfaces suitable for Dead Last to lounge upon. His buns are simply too good to rest against the scratchy carpet fibers.

He has been so irritating lately, it's unbelievable. Primarily because he's afraid of the furnace. Which kicks on every half-hour in the wintertime. Which means that every 30 minutes, he freaks OUT and runs around the house shivering and whining. In the middle of the night, he leaps on and off the bed six dozen times to freak out accordingly whenever the heat comes on. And when I only have a couple of hours between feedings to sleep, I CANNOT EVEN HANDLE IT.

We visited the grandparents over Thanksgiving, and he treated me to a completely sleepless night. It was fantastic. He was on the bed, off the bed. On the bed, off the bed. (Tags jangling all the while.) Since he is too good to sleep on the floor, he was trying to curl up on the baby's dirty laundry, which happened to be in a plastic shopping bag on the floor. So now toss in periodic loud crinkling from him romping around on the plastic in the dark.

Deciding that simply wouldn't do, he attempted to curl up IN MY DUFFLE BAG, which was lying next to the bed. So rotate on the bed, off the bed, on the plastic bag, off the plastic bag, rustling around in the duffle bag, abandonment of the duffle bag, and back the bed. Keep rotating and repeat, overlay with massive amounts of jangling, and extend the whole affair out to about 6 HOURS worth of festivities ALL NIGHT LONG.

Um yeah, we very nearly had Roast Beagle the next day. That or I had half a mind to open the window and chuck him right out of it.

Oops, the baby's up. Gotta run!