The New Girl (or, One Toke over the Line)

About a month ago, we decided it was time to adopt a puppy. Meet our girl -- Flame Carson Jersey Beck. Flame was her given name, Carson is the Shag girl she reminds me most of, and Jersey because she's spotted and she grazes, like a cow. Weird, right?

Flame is a rescue pup. She's almost a year old, and she's a Brittany/Terrier. I got so excited about the Brittany part that I completely overlooked the Terrier, which means a strong chase instinct! Living with a Terrier and cats is, um, interesting. Alex, in typically Alex form, marched right up to Flame as soon as she got here and smacked her in the nose to let her know he was in charge. He later bit her on the ear, and now that they've established some boundaries, they get along famously (and by famously, I mean Alex chews on her tail and she no longer tries to hunt him). Flame and Ben are still discussing their boundaries. Ben hisses at her, but she's too distracted by the fact that he looks like a squirrel to attempt to overcome the language barrier. Good times. Fortunately, Flame gets more responsive every day and she's awesome with people, even tiny ones, so we think with more training she'll be a pretty awesome dog.

The first of many exciting dog walks (nature is a Terrier's buffet). Note pretty Brittany coat!

Snout.

Love my pups!

Your Kitty Don't Dance and Your Puppy Don't Rock n' Roll

Meet Marty's new pet sitter! That's right, kids, three times a week the lead singer of the Canadian band Toronto whose video was once on MTV and can still be seen on VH1 will be coming to our house to give the perfect dog his potty break.

Here's more band info from their Wikipedia page. Pay special attention to the first bullet point -- they wrote a freaking Heart song!! And since she's still an active recording artist, here's her current site.

Far out man. Far out.

Cattywampus

Cattywampus is a great word. The first time I heard it was in the description of a young horse that was trying to figure out how to carry itself. If you've ever ridden a two-year-old that's trying to figure out how to balance itself and your weight while loping, you get why it's such an apt description. The horse is trying to figure out where it's feet are and appears to be having some issues staying upright, so you just try to stay out of its way and keep one leg on either side of the horse.

Cattywampus is the best way to describe our lives right now. We have completely lost our groove. Our previous lifestyle involved waking up somewhere between 8 and 9, me doing most of the house and animal chores while fitting in my freelance work, and more spare time than we could shake a stick at. We had lunch together everyday, and generally spent our weekends in blissful nothingness. It was really not a bad gig.

Things are a little crazy around the Beck house these days... we knew it was going to be a change for me to start working full time again, but I don't think we had any idea how to prepare for it. Now, we have to get up much earlier to do animal chores, we pay someone to walk Marty for us and weekends are spent either running errands or blankly staring at the TV. My new job already involves some working from home after hours as well as business travel. It's definitely a shift from being a freelancer/stay at home pet owner.

For extra stress, we're in the midst of house buying! We fell in love with a house last week, and now we're working on an offer. We keep telling ourselves that life will slow down soon, but I'm wonder if maybe that's just a cosmic joke? More updates soon, but for now, we're pretty slammed being cattywampus.

SNOW!!!

Yesterday the weather people promised me snow, but I didn't quite believe it til I woke up in the middle of the night to find... SNOW!! And more this morning with much more coming down. No idea how much we actually got, but it lasted until about 3:30, and I read a WRAL article saying the area average was 5 inches. Here are a few pictures from the Beck family snow day.

Ben watches the snow from inside.

Marty seemed to enjoy himself frolicking in the snow. He ran and played and acted like a young pup. Look how deep it is on his legs!

"Oh, snow in my eyes..."

After he frolicked, he sat, which made me laugh. Dude, isn't your bum cold??

My dashing husband, shortly before he initiated a snowball fight. My aim's better.

View from the street looking at our house.

Careful Kids, This Could Happen to You

Do you think maybe I've read so many Marian Keyes and Sophie Kinsella books lately that I actually turned into one of their characters? Kinda like when you're little and making nasty faces and someone says your face is going to freeze like that?

Less than two weeks ago, I was just getting into the swing of 2009. I was stoked to not be a student and had finally decided to embrace that I had a job as a freelance writer. When people asked how my job search was going, I told them that I wasn't looking, which was an honest answer. I had just finished my third chick lit read in a row and was pondering the recurring message of a simple life. All the books were about a girl who thought her life would be complete if she just pulled off one more business achievement, only to find that true happiness (and true love, of course, this is chick lit) was often found in the most quaint of places. Now, this was a message I could get behind. I was working, contributing to the household and feeling the fuzzy glow of entrepreneurial success. I was also sleeping late, working in my PJs, being a stay-at-home pet mom, and taking frequent breaks during the day to have coffee with the girls or walk my dog. All in all, not bad.

Then, last Wednesday, I stumbled upon a job opening and sent in a resume on a whim. That night I was called for a phone interview and a few days later spent an entire morning in their office interviewing. Two days later, another interview, and the following morning a job offer, which I accepted this morning. In less than two weeks, I will begin my new job as a Senior Writer and Public Relations Account Executive at a Raleigh-based agency. Um, wow, how did that happen??

In true Rory Gilmore fashion, let's do a pro-con list:

Pro
1. We have just become DINKs (dual income, no kids). This doesn't elevate us to wealthy, but we've certainly achieved comfortable. And since I haven't been there in a long time, I'll take it.
2. New business-woman clothes!!! (Getting the Keyes/Kinsella character connection more now?)
3. This isn't an entry-level position. It even comes with an intern!
4. A job. A career. A reason to leave the house every morning. A company that will accept what I have to offer them and has something to offer me in return. That feels like coming home and makes me want to cry, in the best of ways. I had no idea how much I'd missed that.

Con
1. Man, I'm going to miss my boys. Sure, they drive me nuts sometimes, but I like being with them all the time, laughing at them when they do stupid things and knowing the right time to pick up baby Ben for a hug. I grant that it is rather challenging to get anything done during kitty hyper time.
2. Losing the flexibility and autonomy that comes with working from home will be difficult. I trust that this agency will be less rigid than places I've worked in the past, but I still doubt they'll be cool with mid-morning yoga and People's Court at 4.
3. We've gotten pretty spoiled around here what with me staying at home. Right now, we eat home-cooked meals almost every night and have as much hang out time in the evenings and on weekends as we want. Things are going to get busier, that's for sure.
4. House hunting just got a lot more complicated too. If we move to Durham to be closer to our friends and church as we'd originally planned, we'll both have longer commutes and probably be forced to eat out everyday and pay someone to let the dog out. If we stay in Cary or move to Raleigh, we have to find a new community group and perhaps switch back to the Raleigh church. Sacrifices either way.
5. No use of my Master's degree in sight. Course at the moment I'm still so disgruntled that it's hard to call that a con.

So I guess it's good that we didn't make the decision to accept the job the Rory Gilmore way, as the cons appear to outweigh the pros. I think I probably rolled several pros into one for pro #4 though. This is definitely a weird de ja vu moment for me, what with going back to the same line of work I left to go to school, in the same building even, just one floor up. I anticipate many awkward elevator moments in my future.

Anyway, as Dylan says, "You'd better start swimming or you'll sink like a stone, for the times they are a changing!" I've still got a solid week and a half of freedom, so until then, it's hamster suits and People's Court breaks for me.

The Becks in: "Bellyachin'"

This week's story involves potty humor, near-tragedy, and some infantile language (such as "potty humor") Parental discretion is advised.

So this morning two of the Beck boys had a Dr's appointment. Those two boys would be our very well behaved black cat (Alex) and our loyal, yet lazy dog Marty. The morning started about as normal as can be expected... The mother in law was staying the night with us, but all-in-all, it was a normal, bleary-eyed morning. My plan was to swing by the vet with the boys (and Court) in tow, and then head to work a bit late. Boy was I in for a surprise...

So we mosey on into the vet, convinced that we're 10 minutes late, only to find out we're 5 minutes early (the appointment was for 8:45, not 8:30, apparently). We then proceed to saunter back to the exam room where they do the normal stuff (shoving random objects up poor cats' butts). After a while, our vet drops in and proceeds to do the normal check-up stuff for the boys, when he gets to Marty, he stops, asked if he had a full breakfast, and looks generally concerned. After some discussion, it turns out that Marty's abdomen was more swollen than normal, so the vet suggests we have him x-rayed, which we dutifully do. After two sets of x-rays and a lot of sitting around (positive that our dog is deathly ill), the vet determines that there is, in fact, nothing wrong with Marty, but that he had a huge breakfast. Why was his breakfast so huge, you might ask? Well, it has something to do with our perfect dog availing himself to some... {ahem} "sand brownies". If you don't know what a sand brownie is, let me just point you to the cookie jar they come from...

Yum.

But in the end, Court & I were just super-relieved that our venerable old farm dog didn't have something seriously wrong with him. We would have preferred not to have had to spend all the money and time finding out he was fine, but we're glad he is. Man, dogs can be disgusting.

A Rant, or Damn the Man

I wanted to share a link that irked me a bit this morning and see if anyone else had any thoughts on the matter. It appears that Durham has decided to enforce the collection of a pet tax. While I am not currently a Durham resident, I may be within the next few months. Also, I do not have buddies who died face down in the muck for our rights to own pets, but I'm channeling Walter too: "This affects all of us, man! Our basic freedoms!"

Anyway, here are my problems with this idea, as it relates to our animals. We own two cats, both indoor-only and neutered. We paid the adoption fee for each animal and pay all other expenses (vet, food, etc.) out of pocket. Since the cats never step paw out of our house and onto county property and the county does not contribute to their upkeep, why should I pay taxes on my animals? What benefit am I getting from paying those taxes?

The dog tax makes a little more sense to me, but not much. Perhaps the argument is that the dog does go outside and may make use of county recreational facilities. This argument seems to fall in line with people who don't want to contribute to public education because they don't have children. My question on the dog portion of the tax is this: if I pay a dog tax, does give me free use of public dog facilities, such as dog parks? It seems unfair for the county to continue to collect a fee for park usage as well as charge a dog tax. Also, why should I have to pay an animal tax on top of property tax and HOA dues?

I understand that $30 a year is not much in the big grand scheme of things, but this strikes me as an unnecessary and unfair tax.

Waiting for my Fish to Poop

The title really has nothing to do with anything I'm going to write about today, but it was the subject of one of the most random and hilarious conversations I've had in a long time, so I felt obliged to share. Last night, my friend and former roommate Tina was late to book club because her beta fish was sick. Apparently the poor fish is constipated, and the solution is to feed it a pea and hope that gets things moving. So, scout's honor, the conversation went a little like this: "I'm sorry I'm late, but I was waiting for my fish to poop." At which point my mind immediately went in two different directions. Being an avid animal lover and fostering fond memories of my own dearly departed beta fish, Quincy, I was very sympathetic. However, I might not have expressed my sympathy as well as I meant to because "waiting for my fish to poop" triggered Jason Mraz's "waiting for my rocket to come," and I had a hard time focusing after that. Needless to say, it was a very silly conversation, but I do hope her fish poops soon. And that I eventually get a different song stuck in my head.

Last night was the kickoff of book club! I'm very excited about this new venture. My brain has spent the last two years in a perpetual state of worn out, probably because school forced me to spend all of my waking hours either reading or writing research. I love to read, but I was too tired to read anything of substance so it's been nothing but Harry Potter and chicklit for a long time. I know this sounds a little backwards, but since I've finished school, I've longed to read books that made me learn. Our first book club read was The Kite Runner, which deals largely with politics in Afghanistan. It was a tough read, but also a beautiful story, and I highly recommend it. Then the best part... last night, 4 of us girls got together, discussed the book, discussed lots of other things, drank two bottles of wine and laughed a whole lot. Pretty close to a perfect night, and I can't wait for our next meeting in January. We're taking it easy and reading Marian Keyes next -- one of my fave authors!

One more piece of news -- this morning I signed up for the Cherry Blossom Ten Mile Run. It's in Washington, DC in April. Pretty excited about this too. It will definitely be a challenge, but I'm looking forward to being in training again. I did a half marathon a few years ago, and that was definitley the time in my life when I felt the healthiest and most in tune with my body. This time around, I resolve to condition my whole body, so that means lots of strength training in addition to the running. (In case you haven't noticed, I'm a very goal-oriented person.) Ask me how the training's going periodically, k? I may be in need of a sharp kick in the rear by then. The race registration actually says that if I run slower than 14-minute miles, I'll be asked to leave the course. Wow, harsh! So, there you go. Must be able to run at least 10 consecutive 14-minute miles by April in order to avoid embarrassment and wear my race t-shirt with pride.

Well, busy day so must get back to it. First I'm going to hit the treadmill and take the perfect dog for a walk. Then, lunch with my favorite husband, followed by more work, and tonight, I'm going with a friend to see A Christmas Carol. Fun stuff! Until then, "I'm just a drug store prophet with my hand in my pocket and I'm waiting for my rocket to come... well, it started way back in NYC..."

Tis the season

Hello, and welcome to the inaugural post of the Beck family blog! It's a year of many firsts for us... first ringworm epidemic, first marriage and now our first holiday season as a family. The Saturday after Thanksgiving, amidst weak protests from Tracy (aka Ak) (aka The Grinch), we decorated the house for Christmas. The boys were, as always, quite enthusiastic and willing to help.

Last year, Woot offered this wine as a symbol of holiday good cheer. Ak, being known to utter a few humbugs of his own during the holiday season, immediately had a case shipped to Court's house. While initially dismayed to see 6 bottles of the same wine, Court did appreciate the irony. Fortunately, it turned out to be pretty good wine, and has become a Beck holiday tradition (perhaps a short-lived one, as we only have one bottle left).

Court hung the first ornament on the tree -- the Holiday Armadillo! Which could be risky, because everyone knows if Santa and the Holiday Armadillo are ever in the same room for too long, the universe will implode!


Baby Ben helps with the rigging of the holiday disco ball. This was a wedding present. By the by, Ben "helping" went about as well as Ralphie helping his dad change the tire in "A Christmas Story." Oh FUDGE! He looked appalled when he was informed that his help wasn't so much helpful.

Alex, on the other hand, was quite an asset. "No, wait, tie the twine to that piece, see? That will work as a stabilizer plus improve the equilibirum. Good work today, person who brings me food. Now, go hang it, not too high because I intend to hunt it. When you're done with that, bring me food."

Meanwhile, back on the piano, Ben bravely wards off the tissue paper, thus ensuring the safety of the nativity scene and restoring order and justice to the living room.

Marty missed the decorating of the tree, the hanging of the holiday disco ball and the attempted nativity scene heist. He did, however, keep that pesky bone from troubling us. He's pretty close to a perfect dog.


Our stockings were hung by the bookcase with care, in hopes that no cats would find their way up there.

Ben inspects his big brother's handy work and studies the jump for later.


Alberto, our tree. This lovely little tree was purchased from the TROSA lot at the Streets at Southpoint. Great trees and a great cause -- check it out if you haven't already bought your tree. We have since added some garland and a star. However, due to the destructive nature of cats (especially little silver tabby kittens named Ben), we thought it best to leave ornaments off the bottom half. After a hard evening's work, we retired to bed, leaving our perfect angels to guard the tree.