We have a cat (Kitty) and a dog (Diesel) and chickens (they don’t count as “pets” in my opinion).

We adopted kitty six summers ago when her family moved overseas. She was almost seven at the time and was used to a toddler and she fit in well with wee Graham and newborn Nathan. I’ve always let her do her own thing, but in the last year or so I’ve found myself letting her “make cookies” on my lap while I watch TV. Matthew tells me that my softening toward her means that she’s probably going to die soon. Thanks, Honey.

In the spring of 2009 we got Diesel. By “we” I mean “Matthew”. Diesel is his dog, 110%. Diesel has been more along “the bane of my existence” vein if you’ve read my Tweets or Facebook statuses about him, but I have to admit that he’s been a lot less annoying in the last six months or so. He’s a good running companion and he’s gotten better at not taking off to visit the neighborhood dogs. I could do without his raunchy farts and the fact that he’s so stinking (heh) HUGE, but I no longer regret letting Matthew get him.

Why am I talking about all of this animal nonsense?

Because we went and adopted a five-month-old puppy. On my insistence. Oh, yes. Yes we did.

I’d like to introduce you to Miss Zoey.

I kind of love her.

-Christmas is three weeks from tomorrow. Every year, we try to scale back on the plastic crap gifts our kids get. Relatives who mean well shower them with presents, some of which end up breaking within days. This year, we used Christmas money from my Mom to buy all of their fall/winter clothes when we went to the States. We’re using Christmas money from Matthew’s parents to buy them little Canon Powershot point-and-shoot cameras. They love to play with mine, and why not get them one gift that they can bring along on our adventures, instead of loading them with toys that will soon be sent to the thrift store? Matthew and I are planning on buying them one or two toys each, plus stocking stuffers (Which we’ve done since each of them was born). We’ll spend the balance of our Christmas “budget” helping those who need it more than we do. This is not a “pride” thing. This is a “reality check” thing. We have it good, and others don’t. See also: The Advent Conspiracy

-After preaching about how we want to help others, I feel a little sheepish talking about some of the other things going on. However. We really do give a lot of our time and financial resources to others. (Not gloating! Just stating facts!) We also work insanely hard, so it seems only fair that we reward ourselves a bit. We always do so within our means. (Canadian guilt here, over-justifying everything. Sorry about that.)(Canadians say sorry a lot too.) (Um, sorry about that.)

-I ordered a new camera this week: the Canon 7D. Matthew told me to just order it already, yet I hesitated for over a week on submitting the order. (Canadian guilt!) After many (Many!) talks about it, I think I made a wise choice. I have been pretty busy with photography and photography-related gigs. My photography/freelance income more than covered the cost of the camera. Added bonus: Within an hour of telling Twitter and Facebook that my Canon 40D was for sale, I had a buyer for it (My niece, no less). Hooray for the Internet.

-The firm that I’m returning to in January is hosting their Christmas party on Friday and we’ve been invited to join them. I’m ridiculously excited about the opportunity to dress up and go to a fancy party. I bought some pretty new black pumps and jewelry to glam up my Little Black Dress. I’m also planning on wrangling my hair into an up-do for the first time in two years. There will be cursing involved, but it will be worth it. At least that’s what I keep telling myself.

-I’ve had my fair share of meltdowns this week. (Tears! Snot! Heaving chest!) I’m still generally happy, but really do have too much on my plate. Nothing out of the norm, but throw in that “thing” that turns even the most rational woman into a hormonal fireball of CRAZY and I may or may not have lost it. More than once. On the worst day, I threw Miss Emily (gently) into the stroller, clipped Diesel onto his leash and went for a power walk. It’s amazing what sunshine, fresh air and exercise can do for your psyche.

-Speaking of the dog, he no longer fits in the palm of your hand.

He has the same pea-sized brain that he had when we got him, but it is now housed in a huge, awkward body. He trips over his own two (four) feet and has a tongue that cannot help but lick you from chin to forehead. I keep venting about what a stupid dog he is, but my cold heart is melting. A little. It’s our secret, ‘mmkay?

-We haven’t had more than the occasional slight dusting of snow, which is par for the course around here. We get snow, but not like those crazy prairie-dwellers do. However. The temperatures have dropped and the walk to and from the kids’ school is enough to make me question why on Earth we don’t live in a tropical climate. These frigid temperatures have made it necessary for us all to bundle up as much as we can. The toque we bought Emily while on our trip to the States has mysteriously disappeared. I blame the dog. He likes to eat cotton (Socks, face cloths, underwear (Mine, especially)) which makes me think that he ate her toque and shat it out in the woods behind our house. Silver lining: I got to buy her a new one, complete with a matching scarf:

I would maim people in order to get one of those sets in my size. I’m kidding! But only a little bit.

The word “toque” caused quite the kerfuffle on Twitter and Facebook. Apparently Americans call them…hats. Or, winter hats. Which seems pretty nondescript and also, a little bit boring. I tried to share the pronunciation through typed responses, but was asked to share a video of how to say, “toque.” I can’t believe that I’m doing this (as I state in the video), but here you go:

I think I should stop here, because really. What more is there to add? I hope you all are well and are ready for the crazy that is December. The Holiday Event Fairy has thrown up all over my December calendar and I’m wading through her mess. She owes me one. Or five.

As we set out to embark on our epic journey, the kids asked Daddy if we were going to set up the DVD player. “Oh, no,” was his reply, “We don’t need it.”

This is where I pointed out that when we make trips to the Coast it takes us just over three hours, and we always hook up the DVD player. ALWAYS. For some reason he thought that this trip would be different; that toys and books and pointing out random farm animals would make the trip OK. I sighed (LOUDLY), buckled the kids in, and resigned myself to a DAY OF HORRORS. I was right. There were tears, meltdowns, a daughter voiding in her car seat. There were endless questions of, “Are we there yet?” There may or may not have been toys thrown in frustration. There were many a few times where I leaned over to my dear husband and whispered (LOUDLY) “I told you so.”

OK. That last paragraph was a BIG FAT LIE.  Well, apart from the, “Are we there yet?”

How much farther Papa Smurf?

The kids were amazing. (Please don’t hate me.) We had to stop fairly frequently for Miss Potty-Trained, I-Need-To-Pee-Even-If-It’s-Only-A-Dribble Emily. There were also two stops that involved children, taking a dump, while their mother helped them hover. DON’T ASK.

Oh! And then there was the fact that I did not want to eat at A&W with the rest of the family because of my stupid (self-imposed) health guidelines. There was an extra twenty minutes added onto trip so that Mommy could FIND A HEALTHY LUNCH OPTION ALREADY.

We finally got to the acreage where our puppy was born. There were two boys for us to choose from and we did not know how to decide. They were almost identical, except that the larger one had some white tufts of fur on his back paws. How to choose, how to choose?

Matthew picked up the smaller one. He snuggled right into his chest then looked up and licked his chin.

SOLD!

We had brought a crate along. Our new puppy was placed in the crate, the kids were buckled in, and we started the long trip home. Our puppy (Diesel is his name) started to cry. The kids deduced that he was probably missing his family. I agreed that he was probably sad to be saying goodbye to his Mom and Dad, and his brother and sisters.

Nathan started to cry. Big, fat, crocodile tears.

He was heartbroken that Diesel was sad. That he was leaving his Mom and his Dad. GAH! What a tender-hearted kid he is. I explained that this is what happens with dogs. They are born and then get to come to live with new families. That I was now Diesel’s Mom, and that Matthew was now his Dad. I said that he and Graham were now Diesel’s brothers and that Emily was his sister (A bit of a stretch, yes, as I am not THAT crazy, but it stopped the tears.)

Before we knew it, we were home. We have been getting to know this new member of our family, and he is pretty neat. I’ll stop talking and just show you.

The kids like to pick him up.

I’ve told them that it won’t be long before he’s too big, so enjoy it while they can.

Running:

Emily finally managed to pick him up. Doesn’t he look pleased?

Poor dude.

He sleeps a lot.

Just like a newborn.

He also cries a lot. Like a newborn.

He likes to chew stuff. This has been a great lesson for everyone (myself included) to stop leaving their crap all over the floor.

Speaking of crap, guess which puppy pooped on Emily’s Princess Dress?

Good thing he’s so cute.

We’ll keep him.