Monday, December 16, 2013


When did this happen?

One year and 22 days.
That’s how long I’ve been submerged in the world of breastfeeding. I had big, huge plans on when and how I would wean Brynna from the boob to bottle or sippy cup. I pictured nights of endless crying on all our ends as Brynna would be crying for her comfort; I’d  be crying from frustration and guilt, and Alex because he had to deal with an angry baby, sad wife, and lack of sleep.
I intended to start scaling back from one afternoon and one night feeding a day to just one feeding before bedtime. It was going to be difficult but I was ready for it. No matter how cute the pout or heartbreaking the cries, I was ready to stand strong.
Then Brynna turned one and all those plans fell through as many of my elaborate plans tend to do these days.  (Remember my last post? The one where I vowed to carve pumpkins? Brynna almost ate a pumpkin seed then freaked out when I snatched it away. The end of pumpkin carving.)
On Saturday, Brynna simply stopped asking for it (Chi Chi or Chi Cha as she’s come to call it) both throughout the day and most surprising at night. Alex and I contemplated the next step:
“Should we see if she wants Ch-,”
“Don’t say it!”
So we ignored the evening nighttime ritual and gave her a bottle of 2 percent milk instead.
The same thing happened on Sunday.
What the heck? Wasn’t this supposed to be a drawn out battle with me on one side pushing independence on my 1-year-old daughter and her fighting back, refusing to give up her reliance on me?
I guess not.
It’s only been a few days but I already miss it. And I never never thought I would say that. I don’t care what the parenting books say: Nursing is effing hard. Forget the fact that you’re exhausted, sore and still recovering from the memory of contractions and pregnancy, but the pressure to constantly be pumping out milk is incredibly stressful. At least it was for me. Some moms enjoy nursing from the get go but I’m positive there are those of us out there who took a while to warm up to it.
The beginning was the toughest for me since Brynna had some difficulties latching on the correct way. Who knew the importance of a “proper latch?” I remember asking (okay, crying and begging) Alex to order packs and packs of those cooling pads from Amazon after having a particularly rough night when Brynna was feeding every 2 hours. He was instructed to order as many as possible and get next day delivery. No matter what the charge
I cried a lot those first two weeks when I learned how sensitive nippl es really are, how strong a newborn’s jaw really is and the importance or correct positioning.
Then there was the constant worrying if the baby was getting enough milk. Was I producing enough? Was I starving my baby? Although the doctor said everything was fine, I worried that I was lacking in the milk supply department. So, I did everything the blogs and parent forums recommended to do to help  up the supply. Oh Mother’s Milk and Fenugreek, how I miss you. NOT.
Oh and don’t forget the wonderful feeling of engorged breasts. This was particularly fun once I went back to work where meetings, calls and interviews had to be scheduled around pumping. I still remember the first time I covered a ridiculously long council meeting and spent the majority of the time worrying that either, a) milk would seep through my shirt and everyone, everyone would know I was a nursing mother or b) I’d explode. Both embarrassing end results.
But like all things parenting, I got used to it. Nursing became second nature. I learned Brynna’s schedule, she learned how to latch (thank gawd!), I learned how to nurse discreetly in public, and she learned to take a bottle.
I actually enjoyed coming home to a daughter who reached for me – or rather my shirt collar – and asked for chi cha. We spent at least 30 minutes together snuggling on the couch before I even had time to change from work clothes to PJS. (Yes I come home and put on sweats. Don’t judge me) It was our routine. Our special time together.
And I admit it was nice feeling a little superior to others in that I was her comfort. Boy was I wrong.
So while I’m glad that my daughter is growing up and gaining more independence in subtle ways,  I’m also a little heartbroken. It was so easy. So quick and painless.
It was only this past weekend that I realized how much I loved nursing my daughter.
I thought she’d be the one shedding tears during this milestone.
But it’s not her tears that I’ve been wiping away. 

Friday, November 8, 2013

Before you

Before you

Before you I was just me. A college graduate. A writer, a friend, and a sister, a wife and a daughter.
Before you I had plans. So many plans. To travel to Europe,  write a book of short stories, learn how to cook.
Before you I had worries. Daily – hourly — worries that flooded my mind at the most inopportune of times. Worries about not making enough money; worries that I didn’t spend enough time nurturing relationships. Worries that I was losing my passion for so many things.
Before you I had free time. So much free time to do anything, really, even if it was nothing of real value.
Before you I wondered if my hopes for the future would come true. How I wondered, or rather, obsessed over those plans. Would I actually get to live out those hopes? Would they materialize? Was I doing enough to get to where I wanted to be?
Before you I enjoyed the sound of quiet. Those nights when only crickets could be outside my bedroom window were therapeutic.  
Before you I was always in a rush. Constantly running from one thing to the next. Always looking toward the future, never fully appreciating the present.
Before November 22, 2012, exactly 11 months 17 days ago, I was just me. An aspiring parent.
Now that you’re mine I’m still me but a better version.  At least I hope that’s true.  And it’s what I strive to be.
Now that you’re mine I’m still a writer, a friend, a sister a wife and a daughter. Only now, all my writing is inspired by you. Now my friends are your family and my husband has a new label: Dad.
Now that you’re mine my plans have altered in ways that I couldn’t have foreseen 11 months 17 days ago. Now I wait for the day to discover Europe and experience traveling with you. Until then I scour websites for daily excursions to libraries, parks and playgrounds that I know you’ll love.
Now that you’re mine the worrying has intensified. But the worries have shifted to your wellbeing. Am I doing this parent thing right? Luckily pure exhaustion from lack of sleep keeps me from dwelling on this question all night. I’ll always worry.
Now that you’re mine my free time is limited. Of course I still have pockets of time but I struggle between using that time to go the gym/watch TV/go out with the girls or spending time with you. You usually win. But I know I need to start doing some things for myself. Like, take a zumba class.
Now that you’re mine I’ve rediscovered my passion for so many things. But I’ve also discovered new interests such as crafting, baking and yes finding new ways to make you laugh. Oh what fun we’re going to have little girl.
Now that you’re mine too quiet equals something is not right. You snore, and toot in your sleep. You scream. Laugh. Cry and you, my darling girl are quite the chatty Cathy. These sounds that fill the house are now the soundtrack to my life.
Now that you’re mine I force myself to slow down. Reminding myself that moving too fast will result in missing something that can’t be recreated.
Now that you’re mine I’ve finally been blessed with the title of Mom.  NO longer aspiring, no longer grasping for something  that was supposed to be out of reach/
Thank you my little Brynna, my boom boom, my firecracker for being patient with me for the past 11 months and 17 days as I navigated the sometimes confusing channels of parenting. And thank you n advance for patience you’ll have to practice as I fumble and fall on this road called parenting. My promise to you: I’ll always get back up.
Most importantly, thank you for showing me how much I was missing before you became mine.

Thursday, October 24, 2013

11 Things That Prove You’re a Parent

11 Things That Prove You’re a Parent

It’s been a rough couple of weeks at the Brody house. Four stubborn teeth are taking their sweet ass time breaking through Brynna’s gums which only adds to her discomfort. Oh, and we are starting to wean, and learn to drink milk from a sippy cup. A lot is going on at one time and we are all paying the consequences. Although we love the extra cuddles Brynna has been giving these past few weeks, the waking up in the middle of the night and her refusal to sleep in her crib is not so great. This morning I arrived at work with my necklace on backwards, a venti coffee in hand and a look that can only be described as someone who only got five hours of sleep.  You know that new parent look.
Here are a few more clues that have made me realize I’m like really a parent now.
  • I’ve given up on holding off on wearing my favorite tops/skirts/jeans until Brynna gets older in fear that she will mess them up. The reality: Those clothing items would never get worn again! I’ve accepted that my clothes will most likely end up with some sort of stain by day’s end. Messes are going to happen. Shirts from Forever21 weren’t meant to last a lifetime
 Um, Brynna, you left your yum yum on my jacket. 
  • Finishing a hot cup of coffee = success. How many lattes have been tossed out because only a few warm sips were enjoyed before someone needed attention? Too many to count. So, I feel pretty darn proud of myself when I finish a hot cup of coffee. Same goes for eating a hot meal.
  • I’ve officially grown eyes in the back, and side of my head. Seriously, I firmly believe parents sprout extra eyes and some sort of weird powers to detect where their kid is at all times.  They can be staring right at you and at the same time know their child is heading for the kitchen cabinets/ climbing a couch or about to swat the dog. No joke.
  • Those crying kids in restaurants that once bothered me are now just background noise. In fact, I prefer to dine in restaurants with a bunch of kids underfoot. It means my family is not an outcast.
  • No more running out the door with just a purse or clutch. It’s more like hello diaper bag or in my case, diaper bag and usually a smaller tote bag full of Elmos, toys, and a sippy cup. Oh and maybe an extra shirt and pair of shoes just in case. Wait, and an extra blanket. And a beanie …
  • Yoga pants are my best friend and worst enemy. Those super comfy-able-to-be-paired-with-almost-anything-form-fitting-pants are a staple for many people, especially this mom. Specifically during those early months of maternity leave. I found myself wearing them so much that I forced myself to pack them away in my “maternity clothes” bin. Is it weird that I miss them?
  • I’m able to detect a blow-out diaper from an ordinary poopy diaper. IS it weird/gross? Probably, but it comes with the territory.
  • I seldom wear high heels.  And if I do it’s only for a very special occasion. Now I may be alone on this one but after attempting to balance myself while carrying Brynna, I’ve realized flats work best. I just haven’t conquered the baby-carrying in heels skill yet. But I hope to.
  • Multitasking is the norm because you usually always have a kid on your hip or dog on your lap. Or both are underfoot as you try to cook, make  a bottle and dodge tupperware being thrown all over the floor.
  • My free time is important. Every. Single. Minute. I haven’t been to the movies in months. Star Trek. That was the last movie we saw. Still can’t believe I wasted my free time on that!
  • Nothing is done alone. Those annoying friends who warned you “you’d never go to the bathroom alone,” weren’t kidding. Now that Brynna is crawling she is everywhere! That means that if I have to go to the bathroom/sort the mail/pick out clothes/go shopping (A must!) she’s with me. Or Porkchop and Beans are with me. I’m not joking – they have to be wherever we are now. It’s like having three kids. Of course Alex and I switch off to allow each other an hour or two of solitude but if we only attempted to be productive while the other watched over Brynna, very little would get accomplished.
Yes, that’s Beans on our bed. And yes she’s too big to be sleeping with us. 
Have anything else to add to this list?

Monday, October 7, 2013

Fall Fun! Or the time I dragged my family to a Pumpkin Patch

Fall Fun! Or the time I dragged my family to a Pumpkin Patch

Fall is finally, finally here! I adore this season and all that it brings – especially the cool weather, which allows me to break out the beloved Uggs. Yes, I still wear them. In fact I have three pairs and I can’t wait to buy Brynna her first pair. October is such an exciting month not only because of the change in weather but because it jumps off the holiday season starting with Halloween. And with Brynna (finally!) here it makes everything that much more exciting. For years I would drag Alex to pumpkin patches and fall-themed events just to get into the spirit of it all. I’d love watching parents interact with their kids as they helped pick out pumpkins, patiently waiting for their kid to pick the perfect one. It made me so excited to one day share that same experience with my child. And now I finally can. Okay, so Brynna is way way too young to care about pumpkins or corn mazes, or dressing up for that matter. But I care. Like I really really care. I’ve anticipated these outings for years and I will definitely probably throw a fit if we don’t take her to at least one pumpkin patch. And we have to go trick or treating. And we have to dress up. And we have to carve a pumpkin. I’m not joking. This is happening.
First Fall Activity: Visit a Pumpkin Patch
We actually did this this past weekend. I wish I could say she absolutely loved it but … she’s a baby. Who’s teething. And it was crazy hot. But because she has her dad’s humor (and her mom’s temperament) she humored mom and went with it. Note: I was the only one who really wanted to go so Daisy (Brynna’s Nina) and Alex were also humoring me.  Of course the Santa Ana winds were in full effect which made things barely bearable for Daisy and Alex who were suffering from allergies. So, we spent about 45 minutes in the pumpkin fields taking photos and letting Brynna touch all the gourds. She loved those gnarly looking ones. You know the ones that look like a gourd version of the Elephant Man? She posed for a few photos but teething/the heat/ and a missed nap made it hard to get a good photo. You know one where she actually appears to be enjoying the visit? Anyways, she picked a pumpkin, cried when I didn’t let her touch the prickly stem and thoroughly enjoyed trying to eat the hay.
A total success in my humble opinion!!
Fussiness takes over!
Next mission: Carve a pumpkin

Sunday, September 22, 2013

Tuesday, September 10, 2013

Taking a Leap

Taking a Leap

Big changes are taking place in the Brody household. Well, not huge, monstrous changes but big enough to warrant a pro con list, tears (on my end) and lengthy discussions. After moving back to OC and settling back into my old job, I’ll be leaving my associate editor position for a new venture in public relations. I still get queasy thinking about leaving the company I was with for more than 4 years (excluding the 1 year break when I was at USC) and the editors I’ve come to really appreciate. But the hardest part is knowing that I will no longer have the privilege of working from my home office, which means less time with Brynna. That of course weighed heaviest on my mind/heart and was the main factor that almost had me turn down the job. I felt horrible for leaving a job that allowed me to write and report all while working from home. A privilege so many moms don’t get. I knew I’d have to answer as to why I would leave such an awesome work environment for an in office job that was farther away. I still don’t have the best answer as to why other than it just feels like something I need to try. I’ve gone back and forth on whether or not this is the right decision. And the melodramatic side of me has questioned if this decision is ruining everything in terms of my family-work balance.(How’s that for dramatic?) 
I have always believed that money is not the most important factor in taking a job. But of course it needs to be taken into consideration when you have a child, bills to pay and hope to put away something for the future. I won’t go into details about money woes because in all honesty people, families get by with very little. 
 I’m not a risk taker, meaning, not being prepared for the future is not an option. But it’s hard to plan ahead when you don’t know what tomorrow will bring. Seriously, who knows what can happen. Luckily I have a supportive husband and amazing women in my family who provide valuable insight and steer me in directions I wouldn’t normally follow on my own. Why not be passionate about my career? Isn’t it time to try something new and learn new skills? My biggest fear of course is being away from Brynna. But unlike some moms who don’t have reliable childcare, I have the advantage of having my mom around to watch and care for Brynna while I’m at work. Did I mention she also throws in laundry and is happy to head to Costco or the market for us? What would we do without grandparents?
I’m also hoping that my time away from home will do me some good ‘cause although I was working from home that’s just what I was doing: working. There wasn’t time to crawl around on the floor with Brynna or take walks around the block, which is what some people may think work-from-home employees do. Writing more than 15 stories a week with deadlines kept me from doing that. So while I definitely saw more of Brynna it was when I popped out of the office for coffee, to use the restroom, yell at the dogs to stop barking or nurse Brynna. Not so much quality as it was quantity. Now I intend to keep my phone in my purse and just focus on Brynna. Oh, and Porkchop, Beans and Mr. Brody of course :) 

Then there were those instances when Brynna’s mealtime was interrupted because mom had to take a call from a source. If I was on break at the office would I have taken that call? Probably not because I was on a designated break.
The more time I spent at home the harder it was to accept that my mom was the one spending quality time with her, taking her out for walks and classes. I wanted that to be me. So, am I really leaning toward wanting to be a Stay At Home Mom? Probably. But not just yet. First I want to take a chance on me and test out a new career field. Will I be a mess for the first few weeks having to be away from my daughter? Most definitely. Will I learn to be okay with being away from Brynna during the workday and appreciate our time together even more? I believe so. Will the commute, tears and loss of work flexibility all be worth it in the end? I hope so. And if for some reason it doesn’t work out (but I really really really hope it does) at least I know I tried. 

Wednesday, August 21, 2013

Ponderings: To Opt-in or Opt-out

Ponderings: To Opt-in or Opt-out

* As a full-time working mom ( and a mom in general) I’m often hit with that guilty feeling. You know, the one where you’re going about your day, talking to co-workers, shifting through papers, editing copy when you’re reminded that you have a child at home. And you’re not there with them. I’ve read so many articles, blogs and essays on the guilt moms and dads experience when they decide to head back into the office. But then there are also reports of parents (mostly moms) who regret scaling back. So, what the heck? For me the choice whether work or stay home with Brynna was clear: Work. We need two incomes to support the lifestyle we’ve been enjoying these past few years. But when asked if given the choice,  would I stay home with the baby, I tend to oscillate between “Heck yes” to “probably not.” My hesitation to enter the stay at home camp (and yes, I know the term may cause eyes to roll but I believe there are some mommy camps out there. I don’t think it’s intentional but rather based on circumstance. Working moms can’t meet during morning and afternoon play dates, so friendships are formed among certain groups. It happens and is quite understandable. Of course you are going to become friend with those you have time to connect with. For the record, some of my closest mommy friends are full time, part time working and stay at home moms.) is fear. So in typically Amby fashion, let’s list them:
Why I’m terrified to leave my career field
  • I will become totally overwhelmed with taking care of  a little person 24/7 with no breaks, no lunch time, no 15 minute breaks.
  • Fear that things will shift in my marriage. Like for instance, even though we both agree that all household chores (mainly cooking and cleaning up dog crap) should not fall to me by default, will that still hold true once I commit to being home full time?
  • Yes I am scared that my “title” will no longer be journalist but simply, mom. What’s wrong with that title? Nothing, of course but after spending 8 plus years identifying myself as a journalist, it’s hard to step away.
  • What if I can’t back into the writing world after leaving it for so long?
  • Money, always money worries. Will one income really be enough? Can I be okay not buying those pair of Steve Madden’s I’ve had my eye on?
But then there are all the reasons to stay home such as
  • not missing out on anything Brynna does.
  • Having the title of mommy/homemaker/writer and wife sounds better than the simple “writer”. I mean, who isn’t a writer these days?
  • Having the time to really focus on Brynna and nurture friendships with other mommies. One of the biggest fears I have is that Brynna will not have any playmates because her mom can’t make friends.
  • It would be so nice to be able to relieve my husband of some of the stress of daily must-dos like walking the dogs, paying bills, taking the car to the mechanic (cooking is totally out of the question though).
  • I can be that mom that I’ve imagined myself being. You know that one who bakes, drops off and picks up her daughter from school, spends afternoons making crafts and spending quality time without worrying about checking emails. 
Let’s face it moms — both stay at home and working moms — wear so many different hats from employee to mom, wife, home organizer, party planner, accountant, mediator and friend. So why get stuck on a title? I’ve come to realize it’s not the stripping of the title of “journalist” that scares me. It’s the fear of stepping away from a life I’ve always known into a position so relativity new that it still scares the crap out of me.
So, until I figure out what is the next best step for our family when people ask “What do you do for a living?” My reply will simply be “What don’t I do?” And that’s the truth, well; I guess I can’t claim that I’m a cook and dog-crap-picker-upper. But they don’t have to know that.
How did you decide to stay at home or continue to work?

Tuesday, August 13, 2013

An Open Letter to Porkchop and Beans

An Open Letter to Porkchop and Beans

*Dear Porky Boy and Beanie Girl,
I understand that things have changed and while it may seem as though Dad and I no longer give a crap about you, here is some reassurance that you are still loved:

  • We apologize for keeping you outside longer than your’e used to but when Brynna has crazy toy time, we can’t have Beans running away with Cookie Monster or have Mr. Chops trying to lay down on Brynna’s lap.
  • We are sorry that you can’t lick Brynna until every single particle of pureed food is no longer visible. But we’ve seen you (both) lick places that just aren’t sanitary. Sorry, guys, but it’s kind of gross.
  • We feel really bad that our weekends are no longer dedicated to hour long walks in the park but a 40 minute walk is still okay, right? We hope you understand that it can be difficult walking the both of you and a baby, especially when Bean’s wants to play with every chihuahua and Porkchop wants to eat every piece of cat crap he sees.
  • And geez, are we so sorry that you no longer have free reign of the house. Remember when we would let you two cruise the house at all hours of the night while we slept? Well, I have to break it to you pups, but waking up to vomit on the floor, a chewed up couch cushion or the sounds of you two running through the house is not funny when you’re operating on a few hours of sleep. Plus you guys messed with that free reign privilege when Porkchop crapped on the wall and you both chewed through the couch cushion.

  • We apologize for those short tempered moments when we yell “dogs out” after catching one of you licking the baby’s Sophie or better yet, her mouth.

  • I’m sorry my lap is not big enough for both you and Brynna at the same time. But nursing is hard enough as it is without having to worry about Beans trying to sneak onto my lap. Nice try, Beans
BUT look at all the stuff that hasn’t changed: treats every morning and night. More teats during the day since Grandma is home during the day. Daddy always, always buys you a new toy when he goes to Big Lots and you both have a new person to love on. Brynna may slap you guys around from time to time but mostly it’s out of love. Mostly.
We love you two rascals and although we think about giving you away to a loving family every now and again, know we are just joshing ya. ‘Cause you complete our little family you crazy pups.
Your humans

Wednesday, July 17, 2013

Wednesday, July 3, 2013

Motherhood: What I’ve learned 7 months in

Motherhood: What I’ve learned 7 months in

I’ve been a mom for 7 months. Hard to believe. Here is what I’ve learned so far.
Making mom friends is a lot like dating and harder than expected.  I’ve met plenty of super great women with kids who I adore but have yet to find one that I can call on a regular basis just to chat or meet for coffee and a play date. It’s almost like dating. Do I call her and try to set something up? Will that seem too stalkerish? Why hasn’t she asked for my number? Does she hate me? It’s stressful, like dating, and makes me focus on all my flaws, like dating.
You realize how much your friends and family mean to you. And isn’t it amazing how much they love your kid? Means more than I ever imagine.
You know what restaurants have baby changing stations. Those places that do are the ones we frequent the most. 
*Poop is funny until the baby starts on solids. Not so funny anymore. 
You see a different side to your spouse. That I’m a parent now side. 
Your body is no longer yours. In fact, while it’s still important to stay fit and healthy, I’m not that crazy about looking at the scale anymore.  
Baby food still makes my stomach turn. Even if I’m the one who made it. The consistency just grosses me out.
Your child can do no wrong. Biting, scratching, hitting, kicking, tossing food doesn’t matter what she does. You’ll still forget what she did to piss you off the second she smiles. Well played, Brynna.
* Nursing isn’t that bad. In fact it’s kind of awesome.
You have a new found respect for your parents. I’m still amazed at how my mom managed to raise me as a single full time working mom. Yay parents! 
Yo Gabba Gabba is pretty awesome.  And so is Elmo. Television does serve as a distraction at times. Hey, if watching some Blues Clues means I can eat a warm meal, then I’m all about it. 
*Supermom is a nice title but so is plain old, Mom. What the heck is a “supermom” anyways? Sounds exhausting. 
I can be lazy when it comes to getting dressed. I have to start putting in some effort when it comes to dressing up.  I feel it when I slip on some flip flops or my running shoes. I see it when I throw a sweatshirt over a nursing cami or worse – when I go out in public in a nursing cami and old jeans. And no matter what, I always ignore that voice in my head that reminds me that I swore to try and dress up a little bit when going out in public cause I always come back home feeling almost embarrassed at how I dressed in comparison to other moms and women, period. It just seems so exhausting. By the time I’ve picked out an outfit (one that I can nurse in, which limits my wardrobe considerably) and put on my makeup, either I get distracted by something that needs to be done or it’s just too hot and it’s too time consuming to blow dry my hair. And since my hair isn’t done why bother putting on cute shoes? And, oh, crap, porkchop just jumped up on my lap and left dirt on my skinny jeans, which means I have to change again. Forget it, yoga pants it is. Laziness. It’s what it come down too. I need to work on that.
Brynna will meet all her milestones so I need to stop Googling “Baby Stages of Development.”
One day I won’t forget something at home. Okay, packing a diaper bag requires planning (at least it does for me) as I’ve been known to forget things in the past. For instance, I met some friends last night and forgot to pack solid food for Brynna. The night ended early. Thinking about what to pack keeps me up some nights, especially before we leave on an extended trip i.e. a day, one day, at SeaWorld. I  tend to go down a checklist to ensure I’m packing enough bottles/food/diapers/clothes etc. Usually one thing is forgotten at home. 
Becoming a mom was the best thing that ever happened to me. 

Saturday, June 22, 2013

Life with Porkchop and Beans

Life with Porkchop and Beans

The first thing my hubby and I did when we relocated from L.A. to The O.C. was start looking for dogs. We’ve always wanted one but never had a backyard. A week after being in our house we scoured Craigslist and for the perfect dogs—a Rottweiler and a Boston Terrier.
That weekend we brought Beans (the rott) and Porkchop (the Boston) home. Since then it’s been nothing but crate and potty training, daily walks and clicker training. We’ve been told countless times how crazy we are to have not one but TWO puppies! But we figured why the heck not? Sure there are moments when I wish they came potty trained and wonder why we brought these two crazy dogs home, but those instances are rare. Most of the time we are amazed by their antics and spend afternoons laughing at the hilarious things they do.
They are stuck with us.
Welcome home Porkchop and Beans!

Friday, May 24, 2013

Thursday, April 25, 2013

I took a look outside my office window and this is what I saw. Anything for attention. #instacollage #bostonterrier #porkchop
I took a look outside my office window and this is what I saw. Anything for attention. #instacollage #bostonterrier #porkchop

Wednesday, March 27, 2013

Begging for Attention

Begging for Attention

Alright, so I’ve been a terrible blogger for the past four months.but with good reason. I know we recently added a new baby to the Brody household but it feels like we Ry have three kids.
Porkchop and Beans have been vying for our attention in the strangest ways. They love Brynna — I think, hope — but tend to get jealous. Beans, ms. Daddy’s girl, will sit by Alex whenever Brynna is on his lap. Then she just stares and whines until Alex pets her.
Porkchop is a little more assertive in that he will push his way onto my lap. Even if there’s a baby on it! He always makes sure to have a part of his body touching Me or Brynna. It’s so funny.
Up to this point I didn’t understand why people called us crazy for adopting two dogs. Now I totally get it. Taking care of two almost 1-year-old puppies and a new baby is tough. One of them always needs, make that more like wants, our attention.
We’ve found a way to make it work …

Friday, March 22, 2013

Monday, March 18, 2013

Our dogs are still getting used to Brynna. They try to get our attention anyway they can. #instacollage
Our dogs are still getting used to Brynna. They try to get our attention anyway they can. #instacollage

Thursday, February 14, 2013

Friday, February 8, 2013

Tuesday, February 5, 2013

My new favorite picture of the dogs #instacollage
My new favorite picture of the dogs #instacollage

Sunday, February 3, 2013

Thursday, January 31, 2013

Brynna popped Porkchop in the face, learned to feed herself and got herself a security guard all in a week’s time. #instacollage
Brynna popped Porkchop in the face, learned to feed herself and got herself a security guard all in a week’s time. #instacollage

Sunday, January 20, 2013

Brynna rocking her first pair of boots :)#instacollage
Brynna rocking her first pair of boots :)#instacollage

Friday, January 11, 2013

Wednesday, January 9, 2013