The Subtle Hint

My mother. I love my mother. I love her more than anything else. She is sweet and kind. She is witty and goofy. She is a wonderful person. But she's also very silly. She would call it practical.

Last weekend, my mom and I went to the neighbors' garage sales. Baby and kids stuff galore. She picked up clothes and a blanket for Antonio. Some toys for Jack. And a bassinet for me. That's right. My mother bought me a bassinet. (Keep in mind I don't have children and am not pregnant.)

I did consent to it. However, this isn't the first time she has offered to buy me baby items. Thanksgiving last year: My mom and I get a little loopy and go shopping at the Outlet Mall at Midnight (Day after Thanksgiving specials!). While buying Antonio some clothes at the Carter's Outlet Store, she wanted to buy me a diaper bag. (I liked the color combination). My wedding was in six months!

Ultimately, I talked her out of buying the diaper bag.

This is why I love my mother. She makes me smile.

The Last Fermanich

It's official. I left work early. I visited sterile government buildings. I filled out paperwork. I became Mrs. [new last name].

I'm a little sad because I really liked my last name. My name that linked me to my parents. My name that made me stand out a little. My name that no one could pronounce or spell. I was original and rare. The only other "Kelly Fermanich" is my 36 year old 2nd cousin who is also of the other gender.

I am now one of 847 Kelly [new last name]s in the U.S. (http://www.howmanyofme.com/). Although, I know it is more because the site says there are zero Kelly Fermanichs (I know I exist!) No one can find me. No more "F as in Frank, e-r...". (My name is 6 letters shorter!)

I think it is amusing that I chose to change my name on our 2 month anniversary. It took me two months to accept my new last name. Sure, I thought about hyphenating it, but Fermanich is long enough. I don't even sign all the letters to that one let alone adding a hyphen and six more letters. I'll have a hand cramp everytime I sign my last name.

I always knew I'd take my husband's name, but I didn't realize it would be this hard.

Those are pancakes?!?

My dad makes the best pancakes in the entire world. I actually look forward to breakfast at my parents house. They are always delicious. And always perfect: round, light syrupy brown, and just the right amount of fluff.


Obviously I inherited my mom's pancake making skills:



They were suppose to be raspberry pancakes.

Keep on Truckin'!

No more over the road trucking! Richard starts his newLOCAL job Monday. Finally, I will see him everyday.

It has been so hard with Richard being in Iowa, Indiana, Illinois, Missouri, Louisiana, Tennessee, Arkansas, Texas, Kansas, Ohio, Pennsylvania, and Wisconsin. Everything happens when he isn't home. Logger eats Aleve. My car breaks down on 94.

We can finally start our married life. We can finally sleep next to each other. We can finally raise Logger together. We can eat dinner together. We can have dates again. I can kiss him goodbye and goodnight every day. We can be married.

The Massacre

I came home from work last night to find this:

Logger had bitten the heads and tails off all the cats' toys. He disemboweled them and spewed their guts about the room.

Poor Elvis and Maddy had to watch as their little friends were tormented and obliterated.

Sure, he looks innocent

On Sunday, Logger and I were suppose to visit Michelle and Kristin. Michelle had a whole day planned. And Logger was suppose to play with his buddy Moose.

Logger and I left the house with my bike on the back of my car. We stopped at the gas station. When I fill up the car with gas, I always leave my car keys in the ignition and make sure all the doors are unlocked.

After filling up, I tried to open the car door. It was locked. And Logger, my keys, my cell phone, and my purse were all trapped inside. Panic set in. Logger is going to die from heat stroke. I'm a terrible dog mother.

I ran into the Gas Station, anxiety and worry boiling over me. I managed to blurt out my dire situation and the attendant let me use the store phone, as long as it wasn't long distance. I quickly dialed Richard's number, one of the very few I know by heart. Richard had left for work about 20 minutes earlier. Luckily, he had only gotten as far as Elk River. I begged him to come quick.

Of course, Logger ran to the driver side door expecting me to open it. I felt horrible. He jumped from window to window as car after car pulled into the gas station. All I could do was stare at him.

Richard arrived 15 minutes later, it may not have even been that long. He couldn't unlock the door fast enough. He was trying to show me how to break into my car (in case I couldn't get a hold of him next time), but I just wanted to hold Logger. I started sobbing the moment I had Logger in my arms. Of course Logger was fine. He didn't realize anything was wrong.

I was so angry with myself (it was only a few months ago that Elvis got locked in the dryer - not turned on).

I canceled my plans with Michelle. I wanted to spend some quality time with Logger. I wanted to make up for my irresponsible behavior.

Later that night, Richard called me. "Did you ever think Logger jumped on the lock button and locked himself in?" Damn dog.