And then we bought a dog

Remember how the Santa from Mitchell school is the worst Santa ever?  Yeah, guess who never ever ever forgot my promise to him? Mitchell.  And when his primary teachers asked him what happens when he turns eight? Mitchell said, "I don't know.  But when I'm 5, I get a dog!"

Nice.

So, because I grew up with a mom who never broke any promise to me -ever- (Like going to a drive in movie in the pouring rain.  We couldn't get out of the car or actually see the movie.)  I tend to do the same.  And Mike has wanted a dog since day one of our marriage.

And since we're on day 2153 of the marriage, eventually he realized the only way a dog was going to happen is if he agreed on all my ridiculous terms like: Meagan picks the breed.  Meagan picks the actual dog.  Meagan wants a puppy, therefore it shall be so.  Meagan decides where it will sleep.  The dog will be banned from upstairs. Since Meagan did the night duty for both children, it seems only fair that you, Mike, do night duty for the dog and any other dog we may have in the future.  And also, can you take over bathing it? And Mitchell's going to quickly learn the tricks and trades of the "pooper scooper"

See? I'm a great negotiator.  No dog or agree to everything I want (all this was mostly easy to convince Mike of since I'm allergic to most dogs)

So I decide I like schnauzers the best.  They're not too small, too expensive, and I can't recall being allergic to the 3 I've met in my lifetime, so that seems like a good start.

We browse KSL ads for weeks, and every time a cute dog pulls up in our price range, we think "we should go look at him" but don't, since Mitchell's birthday is July 16, and he wants a dog for his birthday, but buying a dog on July 16th is stressing me out.  Plus these ads for cute schnauzers are gone in a matter of hours.

So the next time a cute schnauzer puppy is on KSL, I bring the laptop down to Mike.  Look, honey, these are in Alpine, and we'll be up that way *anyway*, we should go look at this dog.

And while I'm finding the ad, he sees another puppy, half as much, in Idaho, and he's totally black.  Mike loves black dogs.  "Schnauzers always go grey." I say. "Your grandma's dog is black!" he says "She's not totally black" I say and we argue about the importance of the dog being black, especially since he's not going to be black forever.

"It's Preston, ID" he says, "That's not even that far" Riiiight.  But since the dog was nearly half as much as we wanted to pay, and also cuter than any dog I've ever seen, "we" decided to drive to Idaho for a dog.  Which is probably the most ridiculous thing ever.

And thankfully my mom and sisters were willing to watch the kids, and we took the little car up which gave Mike and I some quiet, alone time and we discussed dog names the entire trip up there.  Mike shot down "Stanley. Oreo. Augustus." and I shot down "Fluffy, Shadow, Brutus and Buckeye" and together we decided on "Winston"

Cute.  And then we met the dog, fell in love with him, and he didn't look like a Winston at all.  More like a "Caesar" I said, and for once we agreed on a name.  Until Mike said, "George" and oohhh.  I love George.  So Mike and I named the dog "George Caesar" or "Caesar George" and asked Mitchell which he'd prefer (after all, it is his dog) and Mitchell prefers "Mario"

*sigh* fine.  Mario it is.  "Well, 'George' can be his middle name" I say to Mike.  Who responds, "No, listen to Ali" and Ali is running around calling him "Mario Brother"

haha. It was too funny to not just let Ali give him his middle name.

And we took Mario Brother home and turns out he's the most mellow dog ever.  Just lays there, most of the time, and loves being outside, and follows both the kids around the house, which is all they ever want my mom's dog to do, so this is perfect.  Mario lays down and cuddles with the kids but also runs and plays.

Now, Mike leaves around 4:30 every morning, to hit the gym before he goes to work insanely early.  I don't even wake up when he says goodbye to me anymore.  And the children get up between 6-7, feed themselves breakfast, watch a show (or two) before they wake me up for real breakfast.  I do sometimes wish I slept a little lighter, but the kids somehow learned if they wouldn't come to me "before the sun is awake" they wouldn't have to cuddle me for another hour while I convinced myself to get up.  I don't know.  I've never been a morning person, and I will argue getting up at 7am is early enough.

So now that we have a dog to take care of,  I will go to bed, set my alarm for 3 hours later, take the dog out, and then let Mike take him out before work.  And then I wrongfully assumed the children would wake me up before letting the dog out, but no.  Yesterday,  I woke up to Mario Brother on my chest and me waking up panicked "He has to go out first!" and Mitchell said, "He did go potty, mom.  Two times!"

Oh, man.  How long have you been awake?

They can't tell time, so I have no idea what is happening between the hours of 4:30-Time the kids decide to wake their mother.  They're so quiet.  I think I need to set an alarm for 6,  or 5, or figure out what time they wake up in the morning, since I guess I have no idea.  Mike says, "They sometimes get up when I leave" at 4:30! This is not happening!

Obviously, this *is* happening, and I've learned I'm the worst mom ever.  The upside is Mitchell is responsible enough to take the dog out (twice) and feed himself and Ali breakfast (dry cereal, if anyone is wondering.  And also sometimes trail mix)

So today, before you all continue to think my children are running wild anywhere and everywhere for hours in the wee morning, I decided to roll myself out of bed (and on to the couch) this morning when Mike said goodbye at 4am.  (4!)  So at least they have a half-parent to watch them.  Mitchell came downstairs at 6:13, happy and alert.  And was surprised to see me laying there, (with the dog), and we played with Mario until he randomly said "Ali's awake!" and I followed him upstairs and quietly heard a little knock from the inside of her door.  And whispers (I seriously thought this girl didn't have a quiet voice at all.  You should here her at church.  She screams at regular levels and I've never heard her whisper except for a few weeks ago when we got home from church and Mitchell said, "Mom.  I have a secret for you!" and I leaned down and he whispered in my ear "I forgive you" to which I started laughing.  "Is that what you learned about at church? That's so nice, Mitchell" Ali, seeing my amusement, said "I have a secret for you too!" and I leaned over and she whispered, for the first and only time, "ahhhhhh........ooooohhhh......I........like.........hot dogs.......for dinner." But that was the only time)  And so I was surprised to hear her whispering through her door "Mitchell.  Mitchell" (but not surprised she won't open the door by herself.  I don't know why she does this) so Mitchell opened her door and she was surprised to find me there also.  "How long as this been going on?" I knew they woke up without me, but it seems like they are purposefully not waking me up.

We had a talk.  I think they're going to wake me up when they get out of bed tomorrow, but who really knows.

Meanwhile,  I'm allergic to a lot of animals.  I can pretty much get hives on cue.  I didn't want to weed the garden as a kid, and I distinctly remember convincing myself I was allergic, and bam! Hives!  A big dog is coming over.... Bam! Hives! before I actually see the dog, mind you.   Seriously.  I'm paranoid about being allergic so I'm allergic to anything I want to be allergic to.  Which sounds insane, but I swear. I've never had any kind of reaction to schnauzers, so that's why we went with that breed.  I was totally 100% fine until Mike asked me if I had allergies  (5-6 hours after we bought the dog.  And I carried him home on my lap for 2 hours)  And suddenly I remembered I was supposed to be thinking about it, and I got all stuffed up, itchy,  and frustrated at myself for uncontrollably faking this allergy, and Mike panicked, of course.  I said, "I think I'm psyching myself out.  Give me a week, I'll get used to him" and well, with that, I've convinced my husband I'm totally insane.

And actually, me and my so called allergies have been doing fine. There are moments when I get panicked and itchy (like right now, when I'm thinking about how I'm allergic to dogs) but if I don't think about it, I'm fine.  And Mario is so darling and perfect (the dog hasn't had any accidents and he doesn't really bark.  He's grabbed some of the kids stuffed animals, but hey.  That's only made them clean up more efficiently.)  he's not going anywhere, ever.

And I thought I would hate putting the kids to bed, and then have to "deal" with a dog until I go to bed, but he just keeps me company while I'm stitching, and licks Mike's hand when he starts to snore.  He's a nice little buddy to have around.

We love him.