How to ruin a perfect morning.

I didn’t title my blog Staying One Step Ahead because of my superpowers to do so, but as homage to the plight of most parents attempting this nirvana and as a reminder to the amazing benefits when such is achieved.  Here’s an example of reality:

Today was one of those rare days where I was awake before the kids (and I mean actually awake, not crouching in front of the coffee maker, hanging on to the counter trying to sleep for another 30 seconds).  I saw my spouse off to work at 5:30 and by 6:00 the bills were paid, spring hockey and 2-year-old soccer registration was complete and obviously I had to check FB, in case anything monumental had occurred since midnight.  I even Pinned a couple of dresses to consider for my sister-in-law’s wedding/shower/bachelorette party.  So far, so good; a very productive first half hour.

Only on these days do the kids, especially the little guy, sleep past 6:30 (I’m referring to the natural ability for children to sleep in  Monday-Friday, but be ready to go at 5:30am on Saturday morning) – so lunches were made, breakfast prepped and dog food defrosted for the day.  With breakfast finished, kids dressed, teeth brushed, outdoor clothes laid out and back packs ready, I had a miraculous half hour to spare!  So the kids were rewarded with a TV show (a big no-no for a school morning), but a sure-fire way to ensure a long (read: longer than 5 minute) shower.

As any ‘sane’ parent would do, I also decided to quickly wash the dishes, wipe the table/counters and check FB again, which dwindled my precious shower/dressing time, resulting in the usual mad rush out the door, nearly missing the bus routine.

LESSON: Should you find your self awake at 5:30am and be silly enough to get up, shower first.

A Welcome Puppy

A year ago we adopted a beautiful American Great Dane.  At a year old we were already his third owners, perhaps a dire warning, but he was wonderful with the kids, barked minimally and was very affectionate.  We were warned he had a little (read a lot of) anxiety, didn’t like to be left alone (what dog would?) and pulled when walked (but he was really just a puppy), so what?.

He rode the 1hr trip home standing between the front seats of the minivan, alternating resting his head on our shoulders and checking on the kids (sniff, sniff).  The 4-yr-old couldn’t have been happier, and at only 7-mo our second son seemed content with his new hairy big brother.

Once in our 1100 square foot house, with the kids asleep, his size really became apparent.  There were some awkward moments, like when he tried to join our hug (he’s about 6′ tall on his hind legs), following me into the bathroom (he wouldn’t leave) and clearing not the coffee table but the dining room table with his tail, but the most pressing issue was the name with which he arrived: Tiny.

Seriously.

He may have been a small and very skinny Great Dane, but a 105 lb dog is never Tiny.

After a few days of deliberation we settled on Thunder, the sound he makes when lying down (hind legs sit, front half drops and shakes the house).

By the end of his first week, he was responding well to his name, starting to listen and very slowly learning the difference between our food and his.  It was acutely obvious his previous owners provided ample access to ‘people food’ (a confusing term, but you get what I mean).  I don’t mean he was on a trendy Raw Food diet or got to finish of the t-bone or licked the floor clean around the baby, I mean HE CAME WITH HIS OWN BLOCK OF CHEESE!  And to this day I cannot go through a Tim Horton’s drive thru, without the possibility of a beast escaping from the back of the minivan.