After the past traumatic week, it’s really hit home with how short, and precious, life is.  Also, it seems that almost everyone I know has just had or is about to have a baby.  Meanwhile, my oldest baby is poised to leave home for the great blue yonder.  Last, but not least, my youngest is about to start Kindergarten.  

After all of this emotional turmoil, I impetuously decided it’s time to expand our family. 

Her name’s Lily.  The moment I looked into her sweet blue eyes, and counted her perfect twenty toes, I knew I couldn’t live without her.  I’ve never gone ga-ga over someone not human before (and not many of the human variety either), but I’m head-over-paws in love.  I even considered buying one of those silly dog outfits that say ‘Princess’.  I go nuts and do the ‘happy-dance’ when she goes potty on the puppy-pad.  Yep, I’ve got it bad. 

The kids can’t get enough of her.  They completely forgot about their new Mario-Super-Party-Mega-Blast-Off-Extra-28 game, and have giggled with glee over every move this squirmy, six-ounce furrball makes. 

My husband heard the plaintive tone of a fourth child in my voice lately.  I think he’s very pleased with a puppy instead.  I was worried that he might be upset that I, on a whim (which is very uncharacteristic of me), brought home a dog.  My worries quickly left when I found the puppy curled up on abovementioned husband’s chest. 

Eva’s crying in her room right now because she wants to sleep in OUR room, and I won’t let her.  (“Mean MOMMA!”).  Meanwhile, baby-Lily, who doesn’t call me names, is lying atop a fur-covered hot water bottle, in her new pink crate, snug as a bug.

Mean Momma.

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