My Baby is a Teenager, My Puppy is the Spawn of Satan

Emma and I went to her speech appointment today and then did some birthday shopping for Ashton. Emma just happened to find a hat that she couldn't live without and fell asleep with a french fry in her hand and her hat on her head.

Good morning to my birthday boy. How can he be a teenager?

My little sleeping angel. NOT.

Oh, and did I mention that I'm pretty sure that Sophie is the spawn of Satan. She is wild and I think she must take after her mother who had the devil eyes. I knew we should have gotten the male dog.

This is what my laundry room looked like when we got home from the band concert on Monday night. Bo arrived home first and was kind enough to leave it the way he found it so that I could get the full effect. She had turned over the dog food, emptied the recycling baskets, turned over her water, went potty in the floor and looked so innocent when we got home. (That's dog food that she is sniffing by the way.)

Okay, so now I have 2 teenagers. How did I get this old? I know that I remember being young, but it's almost become just that..a memory.

Ashton requested bacon and eggs for his birthday breakfast. I worked until 11 p.m. last night and didn't realized that I didn't have any bacon in the refrigerator. I improvised and he got cinnamon rolls instead. Poor middle kid.

Tonight he tries out for the basketball team and therefore doesn't want anything special for dinner. I hope that we get to go out for dinner this weekend to celebrate. He deserves it. He also wants a drum set for his birthday and I haven't gotten him that yet either. What kind of mother am I? I did manage to pick up a few other things that I think he will like and we will work on the drums when Bo and I can go together. Again I say, poor middle kid. I hope he doesn't need therapy at some point.

The puppy has moved to the outside pen. She doesn't exactly like it and I did cave and let her sleep inside last night. I can't stand to think of her outside all night. She has never been alone and I don't want her to be afraid. Of course, when I witnessed her attempting to jump over the gate in the laundry room last night by getting a running start and throwing herself into it, I have almost come to the conclusion that she may indeed spend her first night alone TONIGHT. She is wild. I left a radio on NPR last night hoping to bore her to sleep. I only heard her once during the night so I guess it worked. Of course Emma woke up crying during the night. I hope she didn't hear some liberal commentator and have a bad dream.

So my life continues to be an adventure. Isn't that what it's all about?