Six Weeks and Counting

In January 2009, Matt somehow managed to convince me that it was a wise idea to get another dog. We already had one pup at home, who despite her ornery beagle temperament, was reasonably well behaved. **I'm guessing that most of you who know Maybe chuckled at the comment "reasonably well behaved.**  I vividly remember the night that Matt brought Stella home. Maybe and I met them out in our snow covered driveway (as so many bringing home dog #2 articles had told us to do!) and just like that...our world was changed.  We got them both inside and the reality of the situation became very clear. Stella was a cute little fluff ball. A fluff ball that Miss Maybe wasn't a fan of. There was barking, beagle baying, a frightened pup peeing on the floor.  Chaos. I distinctly remember that moment where Matt and I looked at each other, both with a fretful "what the hell did we just do" look in our eyes.

Almost five years later, Matt and I exchanged that same "oh crap" glance just moments after we came home from the hospital with baby #2.  I was still extremely limited from my c-section 2 days earlier, Harrison had some version of the plague that turned him into a raging mess, we were all sleep deprived. At one point I may have asked Matt to take me back to the hospital. It was a far cry from the picture perfect welcome home that I had imagined.  I knew it would get better...but in that moment, I was terrified.

Six weeks later, I'm pleased to report that we have fallen into a pretty decent routine.  With the exception of a few sleepless nights here and there, we seem to have found our groove - it happened much quicker than I had imagined once the "sickies" finally cleared our of our house.  And while there are still (and probably always will be) those moments where we feel like we're in over out heads, we've learned to sit back, take a deep breath, and to count our blessings.  

 This picture pretty much sums it up.  I mean, really, look at our faces!  Harrison totally reached over and smacked Max when we sat down to take a picture. 

That's better!

On a more embarrassing note - any of my Harlan friends might notice the sweat pants I'm wearing in these pictures.  They are from my old track days.  Yes.  Track.  As in HIGH SCHOOL track.  I'm 32 years old and I still own a pair of sweats that I got when I was in high school.  I'm not ashamed.  They're the best (hence the reason I never returned them....sorry HCHS.)  Anyone else still hanging on to theirs?