He'll still be pretty when he's all gray

One of the perks of gaining 342lbs in 9 months is that people go out of their way to help you. This weekend when I was "helping" Jen out with her house a man stopped during his walk and asked if I needed anything carried around (it looked like I was the one doing all the work as I was the only one out at the moment with a huge chopped bush and rocks being moved all over, not to mention I was huffing and puffing from all of the weed spraying I was doing). So last night at the grocery store when I was all but ignored by 3 different teenage pimply faced boys who were working there, it caught me off guard. Austin will be raised to help a pregnant lady out, or an elderly lady, or really, anybody who looks like they could use a helping hand. And if he doesn't, I will not blink an eye when he tells me that a pregnant lady waddled him down and kicked his shins. 

One guy in my life has become completely devoted. His name is Jackson, he's covered in black hair, and stands about 3 feet tall, but he lives and breathes to be sitting at my feet, or on my lap, or draped around my shoulders. This dog of ours has gone completely crazy for me, or my belly, I can't really tell. While his usual role is to play that of a goof ball dog, he has become an anxious pace walker that has worn tracks in the carpet while circling me. The only thing that seems to calm him down lately is taking him to the dog park and literally running the anxiety out of him until he collapses and is way too hot to be next to my boiling body (I swear my body temperature is now at a steady 104 degrees).  

While this is sort of endearing in a way, in other ways it is not so convenient. Jackson and Dakota have always been super easy to leave at home as they run for the basement door when they hear the treat jar open. Now I have to walk down the stairs and turn the corner so Jackson can no longer see me before he will follow me down the flights of stairs and I can return upstairs to close the door. This doesn't sound like a big deal, but the basement is one of Austin's favorite places to be, so this procedure results in Austin crying and crying to be let downstairs while Jackson is trying to be get back upstairs and Dakota is dancing around trying to grab all the treats while I simply try to walk the stairs. Maybe this is the reason we have been staying home more often.

It will be interesting to see if he is attached to this baby any more so than he was to Austin. Maybe Austin was born for Dakota and this little peanut will be for Jackson. In the meantime, the next time you run into me, don't be alarmed that I have grown a fur coat, it's only Jackson loving me.