From Pest to Pet

The sandal eating pest from last week never went home. The neighbors were moving, and apparently they didn't want the little guy, so now he's part of our family. It would be pushing karma too far not to rename the pooch, not to mention the embarrassment that would be caused if/when my advisor meets him. So I'd like to introduce everyone to Bruno.

Bruno is named after the noble hound from Cinderella, a movie we watch a lot of around here lately. He's not brown, but he's not red enough or big enough to be Clifford. The only other dog we see frequently on television is the overweight and troublesome Ferdinand from Tom & Jerry: The Movie, which isn't a good choice. I can only hope that if I'm ever locked in the attic room of my chateau by my evil stepmother that he'll live up to his name and come to my rescue.

Karma owes me this one

The neighbors in the next duplex have a new puppy. They've gone through a full grown pit bull (the scariest looking teddy bear of a dog I've ever met), a pit bull puppy (very cute with very sharp teeth), and some mop looking mutts. I think the moppy mutts are still around and are inside dogs, so I just don't see them much.

The latest arrival is a black retriever-looking puppy that is overly energetic and can't be bothered to stay put in his own yard. Just this morning I've had to take a bag of my trash away from him, rescue Lidia's garden shoes from his backyard, chase him out of my backyard as he was trying to steal my garden shoes, and finally rescue him from my backyard as he had stolen one of my shoes but was holding it sideways and couldn't slip back through the gate. And that's all just in the last hour.

I was determined to be the tough guy and teach the pooch to stay on his own turf, but you can see by my letting him out of my own yard because he was whining that the puppy has already won. So now I need to name this guy since I never see the neighbors. One of the unwritten laws of grad school is that you should do nothing to insult/mock/parody your advisor lest the academic gods rain down busy work and extra years of studies. I'm working on year nine of something that should have taken six years, so it's clear that the academic gods are already punishing me. Besides, I could think of no better name for someone that is constantly annoying me with busy work while at the same time doing nothing that I want him to do.

At least I can work on training the puppy.

Busted

A scene in our kitchen a couple weeks ago as Princess Ana is about to go to bed.

Princess Ana: Daddy, what you eating?
Me (choking on a piece of dark chocolate): Nothing.
Princess Ana: Can I have some nothing too, please?

I really thought I'd be able to get away with more as a parent. Princess Ana plays the game all too well though. The best example of this is from last Fall when the sweet princess demonstrates that she knows all the dinner time rules and how to use them to get what she wants. The basic rules are 1) stay in your chair (or at least within arm's reach of it) until you're finished, 2) don't whine to get attention from mama or daddy, call us nicely, and 3) always say please when you want something.

Princess Ana to me in the kitchen: Daddy, come see me please!
Me (doing a happy dance to her side): Yes, princess, what can I get for you?
Princess Ana: Green ice cream, please!

Most days I really get the feeling that I'm out of my league with this kid and have serious doubts about how I'm going to make it through the teen years. At least the train wreck will provide some entertainment for the rest of you.

Food Fit for a Princess

Bubba's Sis had a donut craving this evening, and reminded me that I've had a picture to post here since last October.

Princess Ana's favorite food in the whole world is a glazed donut with chocolate icing and sprinkles. Technically, her favorite food is just the top half of said donut. Once she's eaten the upper half she'll graciously allow me to eat the remnants.

The problem with most really good but not so good for you food (bar-b-que ribs) is that it's hard to eat without getting a little dirty. Princess Ana is not a girly-girl though, so the possibility of needing a serious spit bath in public doesn't keep her from her donut.



If I remember correctly that was a three napkin cleanup.

Yup. I'm a yo-yo.

• Fall 2003 -- Scared by my first physical since high school.
  
• June 2005 -- Princess Ana arrives.
  
• August 2006 -- Return to family life after summer internship.
  
• July 2007 -- Bubba Gene arrives.
  

My half marathon training this fall postponed the 20+ pounds I gain at every major life event. With no kids or job changes on the horizon it's time to make the final charge at 200.

Today of all days

I got the last of my committee members to sign off on my dissertation proposal and submitted it to the department for their rubber stamp. This is something that can only happen on April Fool's Day. I'm sure tomorrow I'll get the email from OGS, "It appears that your committee used disappearing ink on your title page. You'll need to make the rounds for signatures again." That must be why none of them used the pen I offered them.

Perhaps it's time for a career in telemarketing

This afternoon I sat in my office and listened until I heard the door the the men's restroom open. The facilities weren't completely occupied and I didn't need to go so desperately that I was hiding in my office in case an accident occurred. I was hunting my prey, and trying not to look desperate while doing so.

After I heard the door close I walked down the hall quickly and managed to get to the elevators just as the door opened and my advisor was about to escape from the building. A productive elevator ride later I have another empty promise from him that he will read my dissertation proposal as soon as he can. I know it's an empty promise -- he's been saying this for the past four months now -- but I feel better nonetheless. This is what my grad student existence has become.

It's not quite time to throw up my hands and just walk away. I'll have reached that point when I start following him into the restroom instead of waiting for him to come out.

Signs that your children are on to you

I bought a small computer desk for the living room last weekend hoping that I'll be able to get a little more work done in the evenings after the kids are in bed.

I just finished assembling it using a flashlight and my best ninja silent construction skills because Bubba Gene has decided that he'll only sleep for more than 20 minutes tonight if he's in his playpen... in the living room... about 15 feet away.

At least it looks like I can type without waking the little guy up. I just need a headlamp if I want to read anything other than the laptop screen.


Princess Ana's moment tonight came after dinner. "Ana wants to go outside... and I don't need socks on!" The crusade to keep her properly dressed this winter has been effective, but it looks like she's planning on preempting any attempt to dress her now. If we can avoid the trip to the grocery store in a bikini until May I'll count the effort as a success. She's been wearing her bikini to bath time for the past week now though, so I may be in trouble there too.