Lando is 3!

Sure, he still craps in his pants. But we call Landon a big boy anyway. He certainly has the attitude of a three (times 10) year old. Although he's easily mistaken for an 18 month old, due to his small stature, he is all attitude and feistiness.

He likes to occasionally throw things at me, grab my tail, and lick me (yes, he licks me, isn't that ironic). He also has the mouth of an old sailor, except he says words with more syllables. Oh, and he's totally into dinosaurs.

Ergo, this cake:

Which Landon thoroughly enjoyed:

Wyatt also enjoyed it, just a lil' bit.

And, of course, the family photo. I can't help but notice that someone is missing. And to that, I say "I hate you all."

Bedtime Schmedtime

We have a problem. It's called Wyatt and Landon at bedtime. Apparently, they think that bedtime can occur outside the bed. Uh, FYI boys, it's called "bed"time for a reason. Sigh, it's like I'm reasoning with toddlers or something.

Many a nights, I'm walking up the stairs, only to find this:

Do you see me there on the bottom right? What you can't see is the disgust on my face.

When will these kids learn?

Frankly, I'm sick of having to tiptoe around their heads. If they don't get with the program soon, I'm going to stampede them.

Hello to 2011!

It's hard to believe, but I'm still part of the family photos

It's a new year and one of my resolutions is to write again. As you can see, I'm shitty about keeping to my resolutions. But I do want to try to be better and if I still have friends out there (both of the barking and non-barking varieties), then I will get off my furry butt and keep telling you my 'tails.'

The quick update for me? I am still a svelte 24 pounds. I think most of my loyal readers know that weight has been a struggle for me, but I'm doing it. On dry kibble, but I'm doing it. Dina often remarks how incredible she finds it that I lost 10 pounds (like a third of my body weight, really) and yet she can't (and folks, believe me, that ain't a third of her body weight!). But she forgets, I'm awesome. AWESOME.

The boys are, well, boys. Wyatt is 4 1/2 now, Landon is almost 3, and Crosby is 7 months. They are aging me faster than Joan Rivers face is falling apart. At this point, we tolerate each other. I don't know if I love them, and I don't know if they love me. You know, your normal relationship.

F'n geeks, I'm telling you. Wyatt almost peed in his pants when he found out about the IPad 2 yesterday.

I have to run off now, my awesome dogwalker Metrotails awaits. I do have one ask. If my peeps are still out there, can you drop me a comment, so that I know whether I should revisit this blog or just give my paws a rest? Woof woof for now!