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  • I = Done

    Long day of work, biz lunch, then dinner for baby, then check into work, then play in the park, then playing mega fetch with 8-year-old next door and Stan and then bath and then Hugo knocking over the 8-year-old's orange juice, then cleaning up the OJ then baby bedtime (milk, books, brush), then making awesome shrimp Madras for me and man, then nostalgic red wine (Gigondas baby!) then back to work and then making one of my sillier vids ever for Babble.  Hope you lurve it.

    Did I mention I'm pooped?

    Ya, I think so. Loving youse Interneters. xoxo, Susie
  • Kiss Me & Smile For Me

    Stan the dog is on the mend!! Paws crossed! After emptying our bank account in vet bills (dog care this week cost roughly a 42" plasma HDTV) and shaving years off our lives in worry, Stan is eating again, if not drinking. Yesterday, his more than $600 in sonograms (!) showed no cancer and no terrible ticker problem.  He's most likely got a pancreas issue.  And apparently, one of the treaments for this is no food or water.  And so, Stan laying in a heap not eating or drinking was possiby healing himself using ancient dog wisdom.  If only he had told us, we might be enjoying high-def Yankees games, instead of what we're doing now...sitting in front of a radio and glaring at his furry ass.  Here's a video from this weekend I didn't want to post for fear he was dying.  Thanks Thor, he ain't.  

     

    Tonight, I'm leaving on a jet plane. Do know when I'll be back again: Sunday afternoon. But I'll be blogging from the road.  I'm leaving Hugo for the first time ever to go see this writer/professor friend in Florida from my Comedy Central days.  BTW, y'all should buy "Pornhounds" her original autobiographical comicbook and if you're a big studio you should option it for a movie/TV series.

    Man unit will be caring for Hugo and I'll be providing guidance on how to insert food into baby (mouth only!), how to find the butter (in the butter section of the fridge) and not leave the stove on (this one's going to be a toughie).  OK I am of course milking this for comic effect.  My husband is not retarded.  He's just a man (incurable) and I am just a psycho worry wart (a mom).

    Special thanks for my ability to get to the airport goes to S. and Finnegan, as they will be covering Hugo care this evening until man unit comes home.  I hate asking favors, I far prefer giving them.  I am however, extremely massively grateful for S. and her kind babysitting help.  And so if Finnegan wants a pony? It's his.  

     Speaking of comic effect, this recent piece from 23/6 is hella funny.  Check it out:

    "New study confirms anecdotal evidence: kids aren't worth it"

    Thanks Internet and more soon, including me flipping out being away from babe or me dancing on a tabletop due to being away from babe.


  • Gettin' Handsy

    File this vignette under "things I didn't think I'd enjoy but now totally go to mush over."  Actually, I guess one could say that's my experience with Mr. baby in a nutshell.  Anyway -- let's go to the video(no)tape!

    In other news, the only news I can think about -- Stan the dog is still not better.  He finally ate a few shards of food late this afternoon so we're encouraged.  Was it due to the painkiller the vet gave him this morning?  Was it laying off the antibiotics... that we're about to start up again? Is he just better?  We've no idea and yet -- just choosing to be positive.  

    Here's another pic of Stan and Hugo from a few months ago, chillin' out (and beging for love) in his nursery.

    Play with us?

    Night Internet. Sorry I'm not chattier but I'm spent from worry and work.

    xoxo,

    Susie 


  • Country Mouse

    First a picture of Hugo (l) and Stan (r) having a chat about our bumper crop this past fall.  Then we'll get onto talking about the here and now and all...

     

    OK, so Stan the dog is still sick and we've still no idea what's going on.  Concentrating is hard.  Sonogram is Wednesday.  One moment I'm convinced he's dying and the next I tell myself it's just a bad tooth and once the antibiotics kick in... But he's still not really eating so the vet said no more antibiotics for now and -- Oi.  I'm just going to refrain from telling you our dog's entire medical history, tempted as I am to do just that. 

    My mom has been calling about 50 X/day desperate to hear, "How Stan is now?  Or now? And how about, right NOW?" And I act annoyed but I'm actually thrilled someone cares about this messy mutt as much as I do. Below is a video taken yesterday in the country. It was a brief respite from dog worries as when Stan is out, he seems to perk up and somehow he's "full of the joys of spring" as my man says.

    Thanks for watching Web dears. See you tomorrow.

    Lots of xoxo,

    Susie


  • Baby Healer

    Stan the dog is sick.  And we are sick over it.  We've been to the vet, been told he most likely has heart disease, he's gotten I.V. fluids, X-rays and a B12 shot, antibiotics...but we won't know until he has a sonogram what exactly is going on.  I'm tempted but not going to write a swan song for him yet.  I waiver between thinking it's over -- and crying a lot and yes even praying -- and convincing myself it's just an infection and will clear up and this heart thing is not very serious.  

    Stan's been curled up in a heap, often in closets, and Hugo chooses to sit with him.  Sometimes Hugo also tries to make his dog bed more comfortable, by dragging a blanket in.   Here are the two closet cases in action, follwed by a rather embarrassing picture I took of Stan for Hugo's baby shower invites. 

     

    Night Internet.   I will try to keep it together and keep you posted.

    xoxo,

    Susie 


  • The Dog Stays in the Picture

    If our mutt Stan could've gone to college, even a crappy one, I never would've had a child.  Of that I'm sure.  I can not express how much I love this animal.  He's everything I every dreamed of in a dog.  He's a couch potato, who is nonetheless always up to play.  He actually returns a ball when you play fetch (something our childhood dogs never saw the point in) and he learned tricks worthy of Ringling Bros.  Not to brag, but to brag, my dog actually falls to the floor after you shoot him with your finger.  And so my mother's comment -- when she was asked about the trials of taking care of a German Shepherd and her three children -- "we had the kids for the dog" -- makes total sense to me.  Here is Hugo enjoying the furry friend who, in some way, begat him. 

    Posted Mar 12 2008, 11:20 PM by Susie Felber with | with no comments
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