

This is Brutus. He just turned 5 on Sunday. He is an odd mix of pitbull and chihuahua (I know!). He looks like a pit whose legs didn't grow enough. Believe it or not, he was the runt of the litter. We named him Brutus as a joke. My eldest was fostering the whole litter and their mother and the other pups wouldn't let him feed so my daughter had to hand feed him. I fell in love with him instantly and he has been a part of our family since he was 8 weeks old. He weighs 40 lbs now. He is a MOOSE! But he is one of the most beautiful dogs I have ever seen. His brindle coloring is gorgeous, I just couldn't find a good picture of it.
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Wolfie made a comment yesterday that cracked me up. He said he'd never been in a relationship where cooking was an unhealthy activity. I never thought of it that way because I loved cooking so much, but because of the expectations I put on myself and the expectations I put on others reactions, it became that. It just struck me funny....unhealthy activity.
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I amazed myself last night. I had the meatloaf already in the oven when bil called and asked if the kids could go to dinner with him. I had absolutely no problem with this. The old me would have either said no in a very pissy way, or said yes but made everyone feel really bad because I had already started dinner. I just said yes and saved the meatloaf for Friday. Seriously, this was huge for me.
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I found out last night that the reason my boy never wants to go anywhere with bil (like my girl always does) is because he hasn't wanted to leave me alone. After all of the talk that my little nervous breakdown and subsequent trip to the psych ward this past summer hadn't affected him at all, he finally fessed up. I explained to him again that it was ONLY the medication that made me like that and that I am fine now. It was very sweet.
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