My dog is a celebrity, get me out of here

Since Julian was 4 days old he has attended a daily dog walk or two. This has resulted in a bizarre “sibling” rivalry that transcends the strong feelings humans harbor towards their pets.

We all think our kid is cute. Little J is cute. He was in fact born cute. We were warned that babies are not particularly good looking but he really was easy on the eye. On top of that he is very chatty and has an accent. Winning combination you would think. Then how come he has never ever been paid a compliment by a random stranger? Because I decided we should get a dog once we were expecting. Not just any dog; a huge friendly beast that stops traffic. So Little J stands in Big M’s shadow. Literary.

We walk by a group of kids and they come running asking to pet the dog. So I teach my son to stand proud and make conversation about his dog. But it doesn’t work. People ask me how old he is and I make sure I respond with my child’s age first adding the dog is seven months older. But it doesn’t work. I have even let Little J hold the leash. And that definitely doesn’t work.

The other day I was putting away laundry and passing by the window upstairs I notice a group of teenagers hugging my dog who is willingly posing for an impromptu photo shoot. As they walk away and pet him he returns back to the front porch for his nap. That’s the trouble with Big M. He truly is a cool canine.

Lucky for me it all works out. Little J does indeed love the dog and I have on occasion caught him hugging the dog when I am not looking. Needless to say Big M worships the ground my son walks. And I get to clean after both of them…


If you could only take three things

We woke up to a tsunami alert! To say that a natural disaster of this magnitude puts your life in perspective is an understatement.

Many years ago in a land far away our next door neighbors were from Texas. I sat in their living room as they watched helplessly the latest news on Katrina. Their home was close to the beach and unoccupied, filled with everything they so lovingly collected during years of adventures around the world. And all I remember is how concerned they were about their family photos. Nothing else mattered, just pieces of paper with their children’s smiles. I understood but in a few years when movers unpacked 44 boxes in our new home and one was missing I could relate. All of my childhood pictures, little momentous and work related documents were gone. On the bright side my son will grow up thinking mommy met daddy and they lived happily ever after. No proof of my former existence, bad haircuts and questionable decisions.

Lucky for us all is well. And thanks to the new age all I have to say to my son is “Grab the Apple and Blackberries and run!” and his story shell be preserved.

Your system is running low on memory

I had my hair done on Saturday.  Stylist asked me which way I part it but I was enjoying my thoughts too much to think of an answer so I gave her artistic freedom. Once I was back in charge of  it I could not for the life of me remember if I part it on the left or right. Neither of the choices strike me as wrong or right so with 50/50 I am in a pickle. I asked my husband and he suggested I look at a photo of myself. Well done dear and by the way I thought of it first. Trouble is I seem to be the one always taking pictures…

See this is becoming a pattern. Like today I remembered not to drive downtown since it’s under construction. I was well pleased I avoided being late for school,but driving back five minutes later I find myself  among diggers. More often then I care to admit I walk upstairs and forget the reason for it. I could go on but I forgot which instances I was going to share.

Now young master J has excellent memory. Once I was telling him off for standing on the chair and to prove my point I asked him if he has ever seen me stand on one. He gave it some thought and remembered that last summer I fixed the window blind he pulled off by climbing on that very same dinning chair. But being male he suffers from a severe case of selective memory. Conveniently he never recalls the sequence of getting ready in the morning or to be quiet in the library.He forgets things and it drives me mad. Then I forget all about it.

My system has low memory and little J’s has a virus. But the program is running smoothly!