{update: the giveaway is now closed and the winner will be announced tomorrow/saturday morning!}

O, poor Pearl. (That’s our dog’s name, by the way.) You wouldn’t really know that we had a dog based on this blog these last 11 months, what with the exorbitant number of adorable baby pictures and all, but she’s been here*. She’s a 3 year old, 5.5lb Maltese-Poodle mix. We got her a couple of months after getting married.

*Ok, most of the time she’s been here. When we’ve had company or when mama needs a break (which has happened on, O, a handful of occasions) she gets sent packing to O My In-Laws house to be loved on and given far more attention each day than I manage to give her in a month.

Poor Pearl. She’s been upstaged since the morning I saw two little pink lines. I try to care, I really do, but most days she’s just one more thing on my to do list. Is there food in her bowl? Has she been let outside to do her business? Are OBaby’s toys picked up before we leave so she doesn’t chew them to bits? Have I cleaned up the spot where she peed on my new Pottery Barn rug?!?

Let’s be honest, if she weren’t painfully cute and an excellent vaccuum service for those pesky under the high-chair messes, she’d have been given to another family long ago. (I wish it weren’t true, but it is.)

I know, I KNOW. Our ‘first born’ (only she’s not really and I kind of hate it when she’s referred to as such) now plays a backseat role in our lives. It’s sad. She is nothing but loyal to us and no less than elated when we come home, and yet we hardly have time for her. In retaliation, she pees places like on my expensive rugs. Which makes me… O, there are no words to describe what it makes me (that would be appropriate to publish here). It’s a vicious cycle.

Well, just this once – and honestly I think it has only been this once since OBaby was born – we’re doing something special for the O My Family dog:

Pearl is getting a brand new handmade collar and leash from Bird.E.Studios. I know, it doesn’t *quite* make up for the lack of affection and attention she’s received these last 11 months, but for right now it will have to do. Plus it will be by far the cutest accessory Pearl has ever owned.

{So what do you say, Pearl? Truce on the whole urine on my wool rugs thing? Burry the hatchet, old pal? M’kay?}

Even more exciting than Pearl’s new duds is this: Please give a big warm O My Family welcome to my two new sponsors! Erika of Bird.E.Studios and Erin of The Vintage Pearl. We are absolutely thrilled to have both of them because not only do their shops contain lovely handmade items, they are both lovely people!

To celebrate their sponsorship of O My Family and in a little shout out to the poor, neglected O My Family Dog, we’re having another O My Giveaway! I know, RIGHT?! What’s it been, AllisonO, like 3 awesometacular giveaways back-to-back?

(Yes, in fact, it has. Thanks for counting.)

This time you can enter to win any handmade dog collar of your choice from Bird.E.Studios by leaving a comment (any comment) on this post!

O My Overachievers: Tweet about this giveaway, then return and leave one additional comment containing your twitter username. Here’s the twiveaway tweet (you like that? twiveaway? I made that up just now. Don’t act like you’re not impressed.):

Love your puppy O so much? Enter to win a handmade collar by @simplerika on @OMyFamily’s giveaway! http://bit.ly/bdFQBw

Disclosure: Erika of Bird.E.Studios has provided the spoils of this giveaway today, as well as Pearl’s concessionary collar set. While both Bird.E.Studios and The Vintage Pearl are now paid sponsors of space on this blog, their money buys them ad space, not my opinions. Those are priceless.

This giveaway closes at 10:00pm CST Friday. The winner will be announced Saturday morning. Good luck!

OBaby’s Soothie Pacifiers are life savers. He loves to suck on them, I love that they consist of one seamless piece of molded silicone, making them easy to wash. And seriously, how cute of a binky face do they make?

O so cute.

They are so great in fact that Pearl, the O My Family dog, has taken a liking to them too.

Yum.

Of course, as I was preparing to eat, OBaby¬† was doing his usual mid-afternoon fuss today. Nothing strong or loud, but sufficiently difficult to appease. I think he knows that today DanO isn’t taking a half day at work, and OBaby simply can’t stand the thought of not being in those strong arms until after 4:00pm.

Me either, OBaby, me either.

Never fear, though, I have been quite the astute OBaby studier these last 8 days and I happen to have some tricks up my sleeve for the mid-afternoon fusses. Taking a page right out of the motherly martyrdom handbook, I set down my amazing meal right where it was, snuggled OBaby into the Moby Wrap (all by myself! “Mommy wow! I’m a big…” never mind) and set out immediately to make our4 block loop.

This is my view when OBaby is snuggled in his wrap. I cannot adequately describe the joy this gives me, looking up his nostrils and all.

Determined for this to become an afternoon routine, and because what brand new mother doesn’t need copious amounts of fresh air to keep her sane, I walked the loop proudly, even stopping to show OBaby the construction equipment digging a hole for a scoreboard at the high school down the street. He dug it. (bahaha… I crack myself up).

This walk was exactly what OBaby needed; he was pacified before we left our front walkway.

Score: Mommy 1, OBaby 0.

As we rounded for home I was sure an angelic choir would be waiting there to greet me and bestow upon me the awesomest newest mom of the decade award for conquering the fusses AND setting aside my own dietary needs to do so.

Instead, upon entering the house, I found our oldest charge standing on the coffee table, snout deep in a plate of homemade spaghetti bake.

Pearl 1, Allison 0.

Because our home didn’t have enough bodily refuse to clean up already.

The real issue is the smell for heaven’s sake, the smell. OBaby’s diapers pale in comparison. What do we do? Spread down baking soda then vacuum it up… you know, with the one arm I have available?

Anyone have an odor solution, preferably one that can be performed by a tetraplegic? All suggestions welcome.

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It’s a good thing Pearl the O My Family dog doesn’t mind being called Micah. She’s been so understanding like that. She has also been tolerant of me frequently ignoring her and referring to her as a him (because apparently all of the small, cuddly things in my life are the same gender at any given time).

She’d better be tolerant, she’s the only one getting any sleep.

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So, if the little guy is OBaby (I still haven’t decided if I like the apostrophe or not) and DanO is DanO (which is often what I actually call him), do I need a quintessential mommy-blog pseudonym too?

How about President OMama?

I think that has a nice ring to it, no? Well, a nice ring and maybe some associations I’d rather not make.

Ahem.

No, I think I’ll stick with Allison, with a little AllisonO from time to time for clarification. Meanwhile I’ll endearingly refer to DanO the ManO and this little OBaby Boy with any adorable pet names that come to mind.

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Speaking of politics, I’m fairly certain that during his wakeful period this morning, OBaby came up with a way to solve the economic crisis in a way that didn’t break campaign promises. At least, that’s what his face looked like. Guess we’ll have to wait until the language acquisition stage to see how he dealt with those tricky health care benefit taxes.

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Blessings I was given yesterday:

I got to watch DanO give our son his very first at-home bath.

Some of us enjoyed that more than others.

I very narrowly avoided crying when a friend offered to do a load of OBaby’s laundry so that he could have a clean zip-up to wear to his very first doctor’s appointment today.

Without having to prepare it, DanO and I ate yet another fabulous meal for dinner, made with love by OBaby’s GrandmaO.

I took a shower, shaved my (reachable and not swollen!) legs, and dried my hair while DanO loved on Micah.

I don’t think I adequately expressed that. You guys. I shaved. My legs.

I’m sorry, are you saying my cankles and Zac Efron aren’t good?

Well, I’m with you on that first one.

Fine, fine. I hear ya. Here’s a day in the life of Peal, in pictures, and maybe a few words.

The O My Family dog contemplates her day.

What’s on the docket, Pearl?

No solid plans yet, looks like.

There’s always room for making friends with the neighborhood squirrels, bunnies, and wild turkeys, though.

I know you think I’m kidding about that last one, but I’m not.

I’ll dig up the pictures of a wild turkey in our (urban) backyard and post them on here sometime.

Back to Pearl.

Awash in possibilities for her day.

There are errands to run.

Derrieres to sniff.

Too much to do really. This is her overwhelmed look.

Oh! Was that a turkey?

Alas, no. Just the mailman.

Fin.

Why good morning, Mr. handsomely rugged and unshaven husband! Could those Mickey pancakes you’re making be for me?! For Mother’s Day? Wow. Makes a pregnant girl wonder how she got so stinkin’ lucky.

I channeled my mother in the kitchen this week to throw one festive taco Tuesday party the old fashioned way. Ok, so the excitement only consisted of tacos with topping options in pretty bowls, but when you’re only cooking for 2 (+1), that kind of excitement and enthusiasm for a meal is rare. Plus the meat was particularly tasty, which I told you (but didn’t tell you) about here .

The O Family dog has a little more Scooby and a little less Doo to her these days. Pearl got her summer shave recently, and DanO and are I hoping it is short enough that we can ignore neglect fail to brush not worry about her hair for a while after Nugget comes.

Oh, you thought I was kidding when I said here that I alphabetized my spices, ranked them by frequency of use, and then put them into matching, labeled containers? Goodness no. This nesting thing is for real, friends, and the feeling I get¬† just looking at this picture is approaching euphoria. Look at it, all perfect and ordered and beautiful! I’m telling you, organizing is a pregnant woman’s Merlot; it warms the soul.

“omigosh! omigosh! omigosh!”

…these were also the words out of DanO’s mouth every few hours when he stopped and contemplated JUST HOW MUCH WORK this project was. Let me break it down for you.

Step 1: Prep

Actually, step 1 was really three sub-steps.

A) patching all holes in the floor from the radiators and radiator pipes we took out last fall

B) removing all of the quarter-round (trim piece at the bottom of the baseboard)

C) moving everything.we.own. off of the wood floors and into the kitchen or upstairs

No, seriously, everything we own

Except for Pearl

Who was allowed to stay because she’s so darn cute.

Step 2: Sanding

DanO was on the drum sander for 5 hours straight Friday night, and then another 5 hours Saturday morning. Oh how  I love a man who can operate heavy machinery.

Even if his flat little bottom puts mine to shame.

It’s like Wendy’s: Where’s the butt? But then you see my derriere and realize that maybe if Nugget gets a nice mix of our genes in this department, he’ll have a chance at normalcy.

Moving on.

I had my own lofty task to deal with while Dan was sanding down 700 sq. feet of 1930s oak flooring:

The first spider of the year.

I named him Timothy (after Mr. Geithner of course) right before I smashed him to kingdom come with a Pantene bottle. The Costco size too, poor guy.

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I’ll post about steps 3 and 4 (staining and finishing) tomorrow, but for now, here’s a little teaser:

Oh yea, it’s gunna be good.

Yesterday on our walk, as Pearl and I turned onto a busier street a few blocks from home, I heard the familiar sound of the thudding bass of someone really cool driving what was probably a really cool car with really cool music on, because we all know that this is what really cool people do – drive around neighborhoods breaking noise ordinances in really cool ways with really cool subwoofers. ::swoon:: See? So cool.

Then came a less familiar high pitched sound from behind me.

They definitely just whistled at me.

No, I’m not that vain! There was really no one else on the street and only 2 cars around. It was for me, guys, no ifs, ands or bellies about it!

First thought: They must not have seen my frontal huge-mongous-ness from their angle.

Second thought: Thank you! That totally made my trimester!