I love rolling over at night and hugging his warm body. His gentle breathing lulls me back to sleep. His short, black hair, tickles my face when I lean over and kiss him.

I could not sleep without him.

My 35 pound dog, that is.

He is the cutest, most cuddly thing in the world. And he has to sleep right next to me. Or on me.

How can I say no to this face?

We got Levi from the pound a few years ago.

The first night in his new house I laid a plush dog bed on the floor next to ours. All night long, he would jump back up in bed and lay as still as he possibly could, hoping I wouldn’t notice.

After hours of these attempts, I finally pretended not to notice.

Three years later, he sleeps in the smallest little ball his 35-pound-ass can curl up in. Right next to me. Sharing my pillow.

(Our other dog, Chelsea, also sleeps with us, but she is like nine pounds and doesn’t take up much space.)

Of course, by three in the morning, Levi is sprawled out on his back, feet in the air, in between me and my husband.

That is, before my husband started sleeping upstairs in the guest room.

I love Levi, too, but he takes up too much space on the bed….is what I have been hearing for sometime now.

Me: Then I’ll sleep upstairs with him, you can have our bed.

Husband: So you would rather sleep with the dog?

Me: Well, I can snuggle with the dog without him trying to cop a feel.

Here’s the thing.

I have met plenty of couples who sleep in separate bedrooms.

Yes, lots of them are like 90, but…whatever.

Personally, I don’t think it’s big deal. It’s not like you can’t do the deed and then scamper away to your separate sleeping quarters.

My husband does, however, think it’s important that we share the same bed. Even when sleeping.

Last weekend, things came to a head.

My husband decided that he really wanted to sleep in our room again.

I cried and I cried (Yes, really. I’m pregnant. Back off.)

I confessed that I love sleeping with the dogs. I have since I was little girl. Since they were bigger than me.

They are my furry, little, leg humping security blankets.

I also feel terribly guilty putting them on the floor.

I know. I know. Get a grip.

Anyway, in the interest of saving my marriage, I went online and googled “dog co-sleepers.”

And, fantastic news, I’m not the only whack-job pet owner out there.

Levi is patiently waiting for his new big boy bed that was ordered over the weekend.

Yes, you guys. I really did buy a co-sleeper for my dogs.

(What, YOU’RE weird, Gah.)

These are dog models. Not Levi or Chelsea.

Also, I am slightly mourning not having our king size bed and TV all to myself.

Stupid compromise.

Maybe I should get a co-sleeper for my husband, too.

Ha! Gotcha. You thought this was going to be a picture of me, in a nutshell, didn’t you?

It’s not.

But it pretty much sums up who I am.

Procrastination and laziness at its finest.

It is almost February and I still have pumpkins outside my house.

Go ahead. Judge.

*Update: When my husband received this post in his inbox this was his reply to me: “Ha!  While you’re at it, taking a picture and writing a blog, maybe you can throw them out?  Put em in a trash bag and I’ll take it out tomorrow.”

Yes! I am giving something away to YOU (or you, or you, or whoever the heck wins).

If you live in or near Houston, and you dig cars, then this giveaway is for you!

Here are the deets, my peeps:

The What: 2011 Houston Auto Show

The When: Wednesday, January 26 – Sunday, January 30

The Where: Reliant Center

You can check it all out HERE!

I am giving away a family four pack, worth $40,  for a day filled with fun!

The show features first-to-market vehicles, with everything from sports cars to luxury sedans to hybrid SUV’s. You and yours can jump behind the drivers seat and be one of the first to explore these new models.

And don’t forget to check out the Kids Fun Zone. It features arts and crafts, a towering 30-foot slide and an obstacle course!

Sa-weet!

I’ll be heading out there on Friday to get my auto show on.

Who wants to join me?

Winner will be chosen at random. I also accept bribes. Just kidding. It’s really random. I promise.

Just leave comment telling me how much you love me and cars and auto shows and I’ll announce the winner in 24 hours!

Annnnnnnd GO!

*UPDATE: The lucky winner is Allison!! (She also has a great name!) Have fun!

Let me preface this by saying that I have absolutely done each and every one of these things. At least once. But not all at once. Probably not.

Ahem.

So, I speak from experience.

(Possibly too much.)

Anyway, here you have it, six things you should not do on a first date.

1. Don’t bring your ex along. Literally or figuratively. For example, if your date says “Pass the bread basket, please.” Your response should not be, “Oh, wow, that’s weird. My no good, lying, cheating, covers stealing, snoring, piece of crap ex-boyfriend used to eat bread. The bastard used to eat bread. Can you believe it? I bet he ate bread when he was banging that no good whore. I bet she liked bread, too. The bitch. I hope they are happy eating bread together.” As much as you can’t stand your ex, and as much as he may deserve your hate, keep it to yourself.  You sound bitter.  And that’s not attractive. This applies even if you have nothing but nice things to say about your ex. Your date does not need to feel like he’s in a competition with some guy he’s never even met.

2. Unless you accidentally cut your thumb off with a steak knife at dinner, ABSOLUTELY NO CRYING. Talk about a buzz-kill.  How would you feel if your date was sobbing into his ribeye?  It kind of kills the mood.  Also, no one wants to see your ugly cry face, trust me.  Especially not your date. This is probably the most efficient way to ensure that the first date will be your last.

3. Don’t get wasted. I know how easy it is to overindulge when you are full of first date jitters. But, trust me, a few awkward silences are a million times better than puking all over your dates crotch.  And, let’s face it ladies, you probably wouldn’t have been anywhere near his crotch had you not drank so much.  So, make it a habit to have food in your stomach and glass of water between your alcoholic beverages.  Bonus: you’ll actually remember how bad the date was.

4. Don’t turn into Little Miss Yes. It’s OK to disagree.  Having your own opinion is a good thing! Go ahead and tell him that you’d rather gauge your eyeballs out with a spoon than watch Monday Night Football. This will not be the deciding factor as to whether or not he digs you at the end of the night.  And if it is, then he’s a meat-head. Move on.

5. Repeat after me. Chips and queso good. Chips on shoulders bad. In other words, lose the attitude.  Don’t walk into the date like you’ve got something to prove. Sure you don’t want to be Little Miss Yes and agree with everything your date says, but you also don’t want to disagree simply for the sake of showing him how strong and independent you are.  Or whatever it is your trying to get across.  All too often we’re so anxious to show that special someone all the things we love about ourselves, that we try to squeeze it in all at once. It’s like a really loud, in your face, extra-strength version of you.  It can be a bit much, and it isn’t genuine. Let him get to know you naturally, little by little, instead of trying to sell yourself.

6. Don’t give it all up between the sheets. Unless you want to. Let me elaborate. There is definitely something to be said for making someone wait a while before showing them how limber you are.  It can be really exciting to move slowly.  Let them fantasize about being intimate with you, and you do the same.  Let the passion build.  With that said, sometimes you know better than anyone when the time is right for you.  There is no perfect number.  Just make sure it’s because you want it, not because you want them to like you. Respect yourself and, of course, use protection.  In the end,  I’m not sure how much it matters. If you are meant to be together, you’ll probably still be together, regardless of when it happened.  I remember making my husband wait a whole two months before I showed him what heaven was like. He remembers it being more like three days.  Specifics.  Whatever.

So, you see guys, when it comes right down to it, it really is all about just being yourself.  (Unless yourself likes to drink 4 bottles of wine and bawl hysterically. In that case, tone yourself down a little for the night.)

Remember that your date is just as nervous as you are. The best thing you can do is relax and have fun!

Dating is supposed to be about having a good time and enjoying yourself.

If that’s not happening, then maybe you should call it a night.

Today is the last day of my first trimester.

I’m feeling a little better physically, with some good days sprinkled in here and there.

And mentally? Well, its one day at a time.

My anxiety has lessened. It’s not gone, but it’s better. I think.

Thank you, Zoloft.

I’ve been keeping to myself a lot. Turning down invites to parties and dinners. I just don’t feel like me when I’m pregnant and it seems like so much effort to fake it. Also, I’m pretty sure no one wants to hang out with someone that spontaneously gags.

As much as I wish I could fast forward through this pregnancy, I am also scared of what that means.

Another baby.

Will I resent this baby because he takes a piece of me away from my first born?

Am I emotionally equipped to take care of another tiny human? There are already days I feel I am barely getting by. Days when I am so overwhelmed that I want to run away.

I see other women with two, three, and four kids. They look so together.

I never feel together. Ever.  And I only have one kid.

How the hell am I gonna do it with two?

Big. Fat. Sigh.

I’m so much fun.

Why five?

Because, it’s all I could think of.

Now, let’s get started.

1. Farmville. No one cares about your pretend farm. I’m sorry if that hurts.  And, I still like you. I really do.  But, before all you fake farmers get defensive, know that I have been on both sides of this fence.  In the early days of Farmville, I had my own freaky little fake farm, too.  I worked so hard, tending to my crops and milking my damn cows. I even decorated my farm when Christmas rolled around. Then one day, I woke up, and a little voice said to me, “What in the hell are you doing, weirdo?” I haven’t been back to my farm since. And now I’m just scared to.  I’m pretty sure the cows are all dead and someone is using my quaint little farmhouse, that I worked so hard to build, to cook meth or something. Sigh. Anyway, my point? Oh right, keep your farming news among you and your fellow farmers and leave the rest of us out of it, okay?  This goes for all you Bejeweled players, too.

2. Joint husband and wife accounts. It’s just…it’s just…what the what? This falls into the same category as married couples who share an e-mail account.  As much as I may (or may not) love you both, I really don’t want to message you and your husband both about my yeast infection.  Besides, shouldn’t there be some things you do as individuals?

3.  The Facebook Chat Ambush. You know what I’m talking about. You wake up, turn on your computer and before you have a chance to “appear offline,” BAM, someone is asking you what you’ve been up to for the past 20 years. It’s the equivalent of ringing someone’s doorbell the very moment you see them pull up in their driveway.  And if you’re like me, you drop to the ground like you’re being shot at when someone drops in unannounced. Nobody move or say a word, they’ll go away if they don’t hear anything.  Now, army crawl to the bedroom. Go! Go! Go! I do the same thing with Facebook chat.  When someone pops up I freeze.  Like they can see me. It’s totally intense and stressful.  So, I think a good rule of thumb for this is to wait, like, ten(ish) minutes before you pop up in someone’s face. That will give them time to “appear offline” if they don’t feel like chatting.

4. The “please re-post this if you have ever eaten a piece of food before and if you don’t you will never get laid again and also you might die” status updates. Because, really? REALLY? This is the equivalent of e-mail forwards telling me, “If I don’t forward this to 30 people I will get an itchy rash on my nether regions right before Planet Earth explodes into a billion pieces.” NEWSFLASH: This isn’t real, people. It just isn’t. Click delete. You can do it. Nice and easy.

5. Tagging.  There is absolutely nothing worse for me than logging into my e-mail account only to find a message with the subject line, “Jane has tagged a photo of you on Facebook.” A million things flash through my head as I throw my child across the room and make a beeline for the computer.  What picture? Do I look fat? Does my hair look okay? Am I playing the bongos naked? So, unless you can be sure that I look smoking hot in that photo and that it wouldn’t get me fired, be a dear and ask before you tag a home-girl.

Now, what are you waiting for?

Let’s be friends.

(But if you tag me in a picture, I will cut you.)

(Also, I don’t know anyone named Jane.)