Lizzy Lovin'

I can hardly believe that in just 5 short days, the chaotic life of a family with 3 school age children will begin. I am going to mourn summer like crazy this year. Mostly because it was so short, due to the cold wet June. Already the mornings and evenings are getting chilly. But on the bright side, I love love love fall baking. The only thing I wish was that I didn't love love love eating it too!

Tomorrow Andreas and Emma fly back from Sweden. Tonight is the one and only night during this entire two weeks that I will be totally alone. Hanna is staying with Gram and it sounds like Eden might have a sleepover with a friend down the street. I am wondering if I will enjoy it. I will try.

Last night it was just Eden and I. We watched Tangled and ate a ton of junk food. I had this crazy idea that if I ate enough Nutella, I would get sick and never want to eat it again. I did that once when I was a kid. I remember coming home from elementary school one day and filling a paper cup with peanut butter and sprinkling it with Nestle Quick chocolate powder. It took me years and years and YEARS before I could even smell the combination of chocolate and peanut butter without getting nauseated.

I actually went to bed at a decent hour last night, just a little after 10pm. And slept until Lizzy started scratching the door to get out at 6:30. It felt good to sleep, although I think I will need at least 10 more of those nights to feel like I'm caught up.

Right now, I'm waiting for my Bigs to get online for our last web chat before they are home. He's usually on at 7am. He's late. I could have gone back to sleep.

While I am thinking of it, I should tell you a story about Lizzy lovin. At our garage sale, a woman overheard us talking about Lizzy (or maybe she heard her bark) and asked what kind of a dog I had. I said Newfoundland and she was like "OMG!! I want a Newfie soooooooooo bad! I want a Landseer." I said that is what we had and she put both hands to her cheeks like the home alone kid and screamed "Aaaaaah! Can I see her? Can I?"

She seemed harmless enough. Maybe a little crazy for wanting a giant, shedding, drooling, pain in the rump for a pet when she already had 2 dogs, but harmless. So I took her inside and warned her about how she would be greeted. "oh I don't mind. I have dogs. It's ok"

Alright lady, I warned you....

So I let the beast out and she went crazy. Both "she's". This woman is 5 foot nothing and lizzy is as tall as me when she's on her hind legs. Eventually the lady went down and Lizzy proceeded to lick her to death. This woman was eating it up. She loved it. She didn't mind the drool. She didn't mind the fur. I was starting to wonder what was wrong with her. Lizzy ended up on the floor next to her, on her back, getting the world's best tummy rub while being called "beautiful" for the next 5 minutes. Which was good because I really felt bad about having neglected her slightly over the past week, being so busy.

All the love she felt for this dog that wasn't even hers was heartwarming. It made me feel a little guilty. Maybe I whine too much about the mess and stress of having this dog. But obviously she had a thing for Newfies. It's funny how people are like that. They have a particular breed they are drawn too for whatever reason. I guess my breed is anything small and non shedding. Oh, but I love Lizzy too. I must love her, otherwise I wouldn't feel bad when I have to put her in her room, and pick out the yummiest looking treats, and spoil her with wet dog food, and attempt to take her for walks when I know that one of these days I could come home without an arm.

So yeah, it's always fun when a dog lover sees my big old hound. It makes me appreciate her more.

I'm bad at guilting my husband when Lizzy gets to be a handful and does something annoying (every 5 minutes). She's always in trouble. And I do it because he is the one that wanted a Newf. And all the promises about their gentle, quiet, laid back nature does not quite describe OUR Newf. Which is not his fault, of course. But I made it very clear on many occasions that I didn't want a dog, much less a Newf. So I have to tease him about it now and then. Maybe he'll feel bad enough to let me have a cat.

Andreas grew up with a Newfoundland and has a lot of fond memories of that dog. He always tells me that he doesn't remember their dog being so much work. To which I say, "Of course you don't! You were 7! You probably didn't have to clean up after it."

Anyway, that's my Lizzy story for the week.