Outed.

Well, it has happened again. I was stupid enough to mention my blog in conversation with my mom, so now she knows that I started another one. A little backstory for anyone who's only known me as Prego -- my mom hates the fact that I blog. Prior to starting up 6 Easy Steps, I had another blog that was, in its own right, pretty cool. The major difference between then and now, however, was that I was not anonymous. Pretty much everyone -- friends, family, etc. -- knew about it. And it came up when you'd Google search my name. Which is cool and funny when you're in college. Not so much when you're out of college looking for a job in journalism or PR, and a simple Google search brings up your blog that is... well, pretty much just like this one.

This was especially distressing to my mother, and considering how much money she and my dad poured into my college education with hopes that I'd find a career... I guess I can't blame them. But it was funny at the time... and even now it's still sort of funny. I'd get FURIOUS phone calls from my mom, screaming at me in what would become legendary voicemail messages. We're talking "You have four new voicemails" and all four would be a consecutive rant where I'd be told she and my father didn't raise me to be so narrow-minded, that I'd never find a job, that I was inappropriate and my humor was spiteful and uncalled for. Eventually I shut down the blog, took about a month-long hiatus, and 6 Easy Steps was born under a completely anonymous pretense.

But now by a slip of my own tongue, she knows this blog exists. She doesn't know the address. She doesn't know the title or anything about it besides the fact that there is a blog on the internet and I author it. But that's enough for her. She will find it eventually. It's like Bodhi when I bring home treats. They can still be in the bag from the store. They could be on the counter, or shit, still in the car. But he knows they are there and damnit, HE. WILL. FIND. THEM. It's like watching monkeys learn how to use tools. It's a slow process, and you're not even sure if it will happen. But it will. Given time and resources, it will happen.

Not that it will particularly stop me. In fact, just as it did in the past, it will probably just spur me on. My mother's opinion of me or my life has never really stopped me from doing anything, much of which eventually came to bite me in the ass, but anyway.

That's really all I've got right now but I will offer a cute story of the ongoing relationship between Bodhi and Baby E. OH, sidenote, I've decided that from now on, Baby E is going to be referred to by her household nickname, The Punky. So a recap: Baby E = The Punky. Okay. Moving on. Bodhi is a two-year-old papillon. He's little, he's yappy, he is spoiled. But amazingly, he has fallen completely in love with -- or at the very least, is completely fascinated by --The Punky. His newest thing is whining and coming up to A and/or I when she is crying, as though to alert us.

Yesterday I had her propped up on our bed and I was getting dressed and making a hurried attempt at makeup when she decided she wasn't having it. She's screaming, thrashing, etc. She's just pissed. Bodhi, sitting on the floor, starts whining at my feet. Only being half serious, I looked at him and said, "Bo, could you take care of that for me?"

I turned around and he's sitting on the bed licking her hand. And she had stopped crying. Totally shit you not. My dog was the superstar of the moment.

He also likes sharing his toys with her during "tummy time," when she is laying on the floor. He will bring them up to her, set them beside her, and wait for her to play. I've caught him violently shaking the toys in her face a few times, too... well, I'll take what I can get. This is my version of older/younger sibling bonding. I'll take it.