Our new addition

I finally caved in to the family's demands for a puppy. On Thursday, Doc joined our family. He's seven weeks old and just about the cutest thing I've ever seen. The kids love him to pieces and Gracie is tolerating him very well. She's not as motherly as I thought she would be, but she lets him play with her tail and tells him when it's time to back off. :)

Everyone tells me having a puppy is worse than having a baby in the house, but I don't find that to be true. For one thing, there is no breastfeeding involved. (phew) For another, my kids think he's great fun so they are doing most of the work. On my agenda is teaching Doc to fetch my newspaper every morning and take out the trash. Well, I know he won't take out the trash, but I like to aim high. ;)

A Confession

It's been a long time since I've blogged. I'll start this off right by making a confession.

A few weeks ago I bought a pair of leggings.

I hope you heard me whispering because I'm not going to repeat it. In my own defense, though, I'll tell you that Glamour promises I won't be a fashion don't as long as I keep my ass covered with a tunic-style shirt. Good plan. Now if I could just find one I would be caught dead wearing. They're all striped. Now, I have nothing against stripes. In fact, I like the illusion stripes create with my bustline. But these tops are all weird in some way, shape or form. They either have 3/4-length sleeves (which I loathe) or they have strange gathers or darts. Or, horror of horrors, they balloon out like I'm wearing a maternity shirt (*that* will never happen again!). So, I'm currently stuck with a great little pair of black leggings and nothing to wear them with.


Before you ask (again) what possessed me to buy them, I'll tell you they are so comfortable. C'mon, you know it's true, I'll bet even you wore leggings back in the day. Yes, seeing those leggings in the store was utterly nostalgic. I was immediately whisked back to 1989. I was 15. I weighed 90 pounds. Life was good. Maybe I was hoping that buying the leggings would make everything the same as the last time I wore them. It didn't. Hence, the necessity of covering my ass with a tunic.

So, hopefully I'll be able to find that elusive shirt. In just the right color with just the right cut. If I do, I'll happily wear my leggings. You have my solemn vow, though, that I will never, ever wear them with leg warmers. My life is not Flashdance.