4 days until D-Day – or shall I say the B-Day (although, technically, GG’s birthday is indeed D-Day/Pearl Harbor).  Anyway, she’s turning 6 on Sunday, and I’m not quite sure what to do with myself.  I don’t know if has to do with hormonal stuff that women go through when they reach a certain age, or just the fact that (sniff, sniff): my baby’s not a baby anymore.

I’ve realized this melancholy/nostalgic/introspective thing happens to me every year about seven days before her birthday.  GG, on the other hand, seems to exert her independence/will/individuality – sometimes exhibited by uncharacteristic (and it pains me to say it) brattiness seven days before her special day. 

And so I end up on this weird emotional seesaw where I’m on her (it seems like constantly) for doing things she wouldn’t normally do (e.g. sassing one of her favorite aunts) and wondering where I went wrong and realizing how woefully unprepared I was for this parenting gig in the first place.  Then the seesaw goes up (or down depending on the day) and I see how she’s got her own little circle of friends at school.  Or I call home from work to see how her day went and she tells me that she’s “a little busy right now.”  Or she comes up with ideas about helping “people who are poor” and “people who are sad.” 

All of it gets me misty because I realize that GG really is a big kid now….and maybe, just maybe – in between all the ups and downs - some of what we’re trying to impart is getting through.

Guess I’m looking forward to D-Day/B-Day after all, even though I’ll see it through the misty eyes of a woefully unprepared mom.

Happy Birthday, GG.  Mom and Dad love you more than anything.

GG two months after THE Birth Day

GG at last year's birthday party.

Sniff. Sniff.

The search is over:  Charley found us; and we're proud to announce that we're new parents and GG's the new big sister of Charley, a four-month old Shih-Poo.   

I say he found us because we had actually answered Sunday's newspaper ad in response to a different puppy.  On Monday, before we went to check the puppy out, both Jamie & I agreed that if the puppy we were going to see was "the one," we'd get him, but if not, then we knew that it just wasn't meant to be.  Well, the puppy that we went to see wasn't the one, but we saw Charley and he definitely was.  We made arrangements to pick him up on Friday afternoon.

It's amazing how much preparing for a puppy's arrival is like preparing for a new baby.  I had to submit my PTO request (called FMLA when a baby's on the way).  I thought about how, like GG, he was coming to us with nothing but a birthday suit.  He needed a crate, collar, leash, food, toys, grooming stuff, cleaning products for the inevitable potty training accidents; so Tuesday afternoon, I spent my lunch hour (and a good chunk of cash) at PetCo.  Even before that, I bought "Raising Puppies for Dummies" and "Raising Puppies & Kids Together:  A Guide for Parents."  Reminds me of reading the "What to Expect When You're Expecting" series before GG got here.  Then we had to select a vet.  GG's Godmother provided us with a referral and I immediately scheduled his appointment for this Monday.  And of course, we had the name dilemma:  I thought he was a Charley right away.  Jamie thought maybe he was a Mack...or a Pierre.  GG wanted to name him after a boy in her class.  But he's a Charley and the name stuck.

Anyway, Charley's home now; and for a first night away from his puppy buddies, I think he did quite well.  I was expecting much more yelping, but he seemed quite content.  Then 5:00a rolled around and Jamie did the "go outside duty" -- again, just makes me think of those early morning feedings with GG.  Speaking of GG, she's ecstatic, and being such a gentle little soul.  She's read "Clifford the Small Red Puppy" to Charley," and has helped me out with feeding and watering him.

Charley's a sweet little guy, and it's going to be very exciting to see what life is going to be like from now on with that not-so-familiar pitter-patter. 

We're expecting.  This is how I found out about it.

A few weeks ago when GG had gone to bed, my husband and I were chatting when he said "Just so you know (followed by the most pregnant of pauses ever known to man)....I told GG she could have a puppy for her birthday."

Since I didn't want to be forever known as the Wicked Witch who's the killer of puppy dreams, I accepted -- and even embraced -- our expecting status.  So yes, we are expecting: a puppy.  Which to me is pretty much like a baby -- except puppies are weaned and can walk at eight weeks old.

Now, my acceptance of our new family member was based upon two conditions: 1.) that I select the breed; and 2.) that said breed will be small enough to believe that our house is a mansion and that our backyard is a park.  And because GG has a December birthday, and I don't intend to begin potty training while the snow is flying, our new arrival should arrive sooner than later.  Thus, my search for the perfect puppy has begun. 

I grew up with big dogs and don't know a whole lot about the little ones, so researching these little guys or girls is essential -- and the research alone is proving to be an experience in of itself: there's Morkies, Schnorkies, Dorkies, Schnoodles, Doodles, Doxiepoos, Teddy Bears, you name it.  Then there's the research to find breed personalities that mesh with our lifestyle.  For instance, I know that we're all pretty tuckered out by the end of the day. Cocker spaniels (adorable as they are) are genetically disposed to be high energy and would not work well with us.  Alternately, my research and advice from a dog enthusiast points to the Bichon Frise.  Laid back, needing moderate exercise, the Bichon Frise would be a perfect lifestyle match for our family.  Only thing is, Jamie isn't crazy about them.  So it looks like researching and identifying the right match BEFORE the snow flies AND making everyone happy is going to be my new part-time job.

Sometimes I think having another baby -- the kind that learns to walk at two years old on two legs -- would be easier.

• 34 years ago, I definitely didn't plan on going to the grade school that I did, but because of "life happening" -- I met my best friend in kindergarten.  We share the same twisted sense of humor, and throughout the years, even the grief that goes along with living.  She's taught me that I shouldn't take myself too seriously; how to be a kinder, gentler person; and not to sweat motherhood and the selective impact that gravity's having on our bodies as we head toward 40.
• 20 years ago, I had planned that my mom would see my college graduation, marriage someday and children.  But life happened:  I lost my mom to cancer that same year.  But, as hard and painful as that experience was -- and is -- it gave me a renewed hope in my faith.  That I made it through those early years without her, and my life as it is now are a testament to the work my mom had done in teaching me how to "fly" without her.  And our relationship, though interrupted by "life happening" was the model for not leaving anything unsaid.  Mom knew how much I loved her, and I knew how much she loved me; so even now, I don't leave the "I love yous" and "Thank yous" till another day, because (as mom often said) tomorrow isn't promised to anyone.
• 8 years ago, I was tired and had no plans to go out to a birthday party, but after some teeth-pulling by a friend of mine, I did.  Life happened that night:  Jamie and I were introduced by a mutual friend.  Turns out that we both had been at some of the same functions previously, but because we were already into our plans during those times (e.g. dating other people), we had never formally met.  Thanks to that unplanned birthday party detour, I met the love of my life.  Through our marriage, I not only have a partner and best friend, but I've gained a mother-in-law who is truly like my own mom; a sister-in-law who's another forever friend, and most importantly...a chance to develop a new, different mother/daughter relationship with our own daughter.
• 6 years ago, I told my boss that I would be resigning to go into a teaching program that, after a year-and-a-half, would lead to a position with MPS.  Then life happened -- truly happened:  A baby?  This really, really wasn't in my plan.  But GG's birth helped me discover the love within myself that wasn't, at its core, about myself:

This love led the search for a school where GG can find the same kind of forever friend like I've had since kindergarten.

 

It's driven me to help GG fly on her own little by little -- because someday, she'll have to.

 

It helps me teach GG to appreciate each person in her life for every kindness -- no matter how small or how great.

 

And this love guides the way Jamie and I interact with each other, our extended family and our friends, so GG knows what healthy relationships look like.

So my birthday wish is this:  if life is happening right now and interrupting the plans you thought you made, I hope you realize that life is never random or hopeless.  And even if you can't see how your situation will ever work out for good, believe me: it can, it will and it does.

By the way -- I never resigned from that job; I'm still at there because "life happened" at that point in time; and it circuitously lead me here to Milwaukee Moms.