Puppy love

Call me crazy. But today I did something I never in my wildest dreams thought I'd do. Not while I was pregnant, anyway. We bought a puppy.

It was my fault, really. At work, we have internal online classifieds ads, and during a break, I decided to see what was up for sale. In all honesty, I was looking for a bassinet (we sold Jordan's bassinet after he was done using it). And there it was. An ad advertising, "Puppies. $10."

I thought to myself, "$10?? Surely, that can't be." So I clicked on it. And the rest, as they say, was history.

I made the huge mistake of falling in love with the chocolate brown pup with the big ol' green eyes staring back at me from my computer screen. I made the even bigger mistake of sending the picture to Jon. And from there, I started an avalanche. Next thing I know, Jon starts IMing me, "We'll crate train him. Jordan would love to have a puppy. He NEEDS a puppy! I'll do everything!!!" That's the only reason I agreed to it.

So we met with lady selling the pups, who brought about 9 puppies, some black, some chocolate brown. All super adorable. But one in particular caught my eye. There he was, lying down, totally unassuming. Our eyes met. I reached out my hand, and he slowly got up and came over to lick it. He nuzzled up against my hand, and that was it. Done deal.

The first night was a bit rough, not gonna lie. He got up about every four hours. The next night was the same. But then Jon, who had been letting him out (no way in HELL was I going to get out of bed) came up with the genius idea of covering the front of his kennel at night. It worked like magic. Rocco slept most of the night.

So our little family is already growing. He's a great dog. Smart as a whip, playful but loving. A great companion for our other little monkey. I'm sure Bailey is looking down on us from dog heaven and approving.

Kicking myself

I have an awful confession to make. I haven't really felt attached to baby #2. Maybe it's the endless doctor's appointments that make me feel like an incubator. Or maybe it's because this one wasn't as carefully orchestrated as Jordan was. Or maybe it's because I haven't really had a chance to relish in this pregnancy, instead constantly worrying about everything that could go wrong (and it CAN go wrong. I've lived it).

This weekend, that all changed. It was the first time I felt baby #2 move on the outside. A hard kick to the gut to remind me he's there.

For our 11 year wedding anniversary, I surprised Jon with a trip to Vegas, along with a surprise vow renewal at the Graceland Church by an Elvis impersonator. We had an amazing time in Vegas, eating like royalty and enjoying the shows. It was during Cirque du Soleil's Ka that Baby felt it was time for me to pay attention to him. As drums boomed at the beginning, I felt a kick in response. And then I felt a little foot make its way across my belly. Hi. It's me, your baby.

Then, on the flight home, exhausted from lack of sleep and too much activity, I slumped over in my tiny airplane seat trying to doze off. Baby would have none of it. SLAM -- right against the left side of my belly. Once again, as if saying, "Mom. Move it. Your squishing me."

It made me smile.

So, yes, I finally realized that there's a baby in there. And he's mine. It's hard to explain, even harder to comprehend.

Something else came out of this trip -- a name. And it came in the form of the Elvis impersonator/minister that renewed our vows. As we were leaving the chapel, I looked down to the certificate and saw his real name printed on it. My eyes got big and I told Jon, "Hey. What about X?" We looked at each other and just knew. That was it. What's the name? You'll have to wait to find out. That's one surprise we plan to reveal in September.

Remembering the past, looking toward the future

In Jordan's brief lifetime, a lot has happened, culturally speaking. When he was born, the first black president was elected. And then shortly thereafter, that same president led the charge on finding and abolishing a mastermind terrorist who changed all of our lives forever.

It's remarkable.

All that to say, I wonder how he'll reminisce upon these massive events when he's older? Granted, he's too young to remember any of it right now, but how will life change? I think back to when we were born in 1974 and '75. We just got out of Vietnam and Nixon cemented the term "corrupt politician." I don't remember any of this personally, but the cultural impact is important all the same.

Sunday is a day that will be forever remembered in history, along with the events of 9/11. I will never forget.