Baby Groot

Santa is on my naughty list. He brought us a puppy for Christmas. But I have reason to believe that Dave is in cahoots with Santa Claus so I'm channeling my hostility toward him. Here's why: back before I was even pregnant with Zach, Dave started daydreaming about getting another Great Dane pup. I informed him that I did not like raising babies and puppies at the same time and there would be no puppies until our last baby was at least one. Fast forward 2 years later. Zach is barely one; we now have a Great Dane pup. In retrospect, I should have said when the baby was 2:)

Groot, our 25 lb, 10 week old pup

Groot arrived two weeks ago, the week before Christmas. He came with this letter from Santa.

Whoops, I guess I'm totally blowing Santa's secret. But I think as long as you don't tell your kids Santa came to our house twice this year, we'll be good.

I actually like dogs. And puppies are cute. But they are SO MUCH WORK. There's the house training, and the small bladders that equate to nightime bathroom runs that result in more interrupted sleep for this Mama that still has 2 children that wake in the night. And then there's the neediness - the first week here, after every middle of the night bathroom run, I would have to lay down beside his kennel to get him to fall asleep before I could sneak off to bed. (You should know that I do not even do that for my own children.) And then there are the puppy energy spurts where he turns into a wild animal that pounces children, nips with his razor sharp puppy teeth and generally terrifies and wreaks havoc upon the household. I'm powering through with memories of how mellow Pogo was by 6 months. And trying not to be too grumpy toward my husband whose relentlessness has added more chaos to our already chaotic household. (He is in a boot right now, or you better believe he would be the one taking care of all the bathroom runs day and night. Pray that his foot heals before yours truly loses her sanity.)