To Celebrate a Birthiversary...

Remember Jersey when we first got her and how small she was? Let me refresh your memory:

Last week was what I would call Jersey's Birthiversary. Her anniversary with us and technically her birthday as well since she was so sick when we got her. So we have had her two months and she is about four months old.

Ladies and Gentlemen...in this corner we have...Jersey Girl:

Weighing in at a whopping 25 pounds, up from the initial weigh in of 9, Jersey is ready to do battle with any animal:

Oops, wasn't trying to imply B was an animal. Anyway, despite Jersey's recent growth spurt, she still thinks of herself as a lap dog and wants to nap with you. It is just not as comfortable anymore:

Especially when she chooses your shoulder/chest/head:

Jersey is also getting taller. While sitting she is almost to our knees. See those rolls of skin at the bottom of her leg? I think that is proof that there is some Sharpei in her, even if she is looking more like a lab every day:

In addition to being much larger, Jersey has also become a ham and will pose for the camera:

We were told she would be a medium dog, but at 25 lbs four months in, I think we are looking at a 60 pound dog minimum. I mean look at those legs:

That face makes it all worth it!

Happy Birthiversary, Baby Girl.

When I Pictured Myself the Star of a Movie, I Didn't Think it Would be This One

The other day I came home and opened our pantry to find that all of the boxes on the top shelf were neatly placed on the shelf in descending order according to height rather than the jumbled mess I usually leave it. Apparently B had been to work.

Me: So, I see that you reorganized the pantry...

B: Yep.

Me: And all of the boxes are in order of height...

B: Yep.

Me: How very Sleeping With the Enemy of You

B: [blank stare]

Me: Remember when he declared all of the cans had to face front, and all of the towels had to hang evenly? And then if not, Julia Roberts got beat? Should I be worried?

B: When it comes to organization, I like to think of YOU as the enemy.

I don't know what he means.

Don't Even Try it Woman, This is MY Territory

On Sunday, B and I decided to hit a few open houses in our neighborhood to see what is for sale, how much they are asking and to satisfy our general need to snoop in other people's homes. After seeing way too much wallpaper and a gorgeous house on our street but out of our price range, we decided to wrap it up with one final house that B had been to before with the "sexy" kitchen (as one realtor described it).

A "sexy" kitchen, apparently, is one that is newly remodeled while still keeping the charm of the old house. And you can cook up a storm in there. I will admit, even I gasped upon seeing it.

After leaving that area, B called down to me from the staircase to "come check out the third floor." As I was turning the staircase to head up, I hear this small voice say to me very angrily:

HEY! WE ARE CHECKING THIS OUT.

I look down to see a small boy about 6 right up in my face, pointing a finger at me. He looked extremely pissed off that anyone would dare check out this house while he and his family are checking it out. Territorial, much? It must be a joy to play at his house "HEY! *I* am playing with THAT toy." Of course, since I am not a 6 year old kid, I found the exchange amusing:

Me: Wait. YOU are checking out this house?

Boy: YES!!

Me: Do YOU want to live in this house?

Boy: YES!!

Me: Well, you can have it then as I already have a house of my own.

Boy: {grumbles}

Me: Is that okay? Are we good?

Boy: Yes.

And then he stalked away toward the kitchen. When I reached the top of the staircase, B declared "that is one defensive child!"

He must like the sexy kitchen.