Begging... for discipline?

To say that I’m at least a bit concerned on how I plan to raise our daughter would be an understatement at the very least.  With the multitude of books, magazines, and so-called experts out there, just who are you supposed to believe?  I am taking nothing for granted nor am I willing to entertain the possibility that I even remotely know what I’m getting into when she does come rolling out of that hospital.  So what do I do?  Well, that’s simple; I go with what I know.

Those that have kept up with the blog thus far, I am fairly certain you can ascertain that I am a huge dog lover and love my pets as though they were my “real” children.  Although I’m fairly certain that these “children” will never incur the debt that our soon-to-be two legged child!  As the dog handler that I am, I will put my dog training skills to the test as my measuring stick (assuming that the dogs don’t run off to play fetch with said stick) on how to raise our daughter.

I raised two of our three pups from puppyhood to semi-well behaved adulthood.  Each had their own special “issue” which I had to find a way to curtail but in the grand scheme of things, none of those issues were any real concern.  Well, there was that issue of Ziggy (our black lab and the youngest) who decided that our loveseat looked tasty.  One would think that after pulling off and chewing up the skirting around the bottom of the couch, he’d have figured out it tasted nothing like chicken or whatever other ingredients are found in dog food these days.  Oh no, he decided that the cushions must have been the hen house and went on an exploratory mission to find out how many licks it took to get to the center of a tootsie, err, I mean center of the cushion.  He obviously found out but to this day, he has yet to share that tidbit of information with his dad, even with prodding.  So I guess there may be some validity to the notion that the youngest of the brood is often the worst, although I disagree since I am obviously the best child my parents ever produced.  I can only assume that any destructive nature our child will assume will be met with loving eyes as we have already experienced such terror.

Eve, the eldest of our clan, has begun to have potty issues.  Well, I guess it’s not so much an issue for her as she does her business (#1) whenever it pleases her.  This is in line with most old folks and can easily explain the soaring profits of the Depends Company but the issue is that she’s been trained to go outside.  Being the loving parents that we are, we are willing to overlook the issue of our floors seemingly becoming the great outdoors because she is, after all, getting on in years.  I just hope that when my parents (both of which I would certainly use the term elderly with…  Hahaha) come to visit, they don’t pick up the same habit which will certainly be greeted with much wrath on my part. 

Lastly, Oscar, the middle child and the runt of the brood, is a known risk to fingers, hands, and calves as was evident in the fact that he decided that one of my mother’s friends’ calf looked like prime steak ready for the dinner table.  After screams and a multitude of inappropriate words for children were uttered, we figured out that he just didn’t like this friend due solely for her attempts to jab at his father, an avid Texas A&M supporter and former student, as she is a Baylor alum.

Therefore, if I can put up with these behavioral problems surely nothing can or will surprise me when our bundle of joy presents herself in January, right?.  What I am worried about is becoming firmly entrenched around her little finger as I am with my pups.

This morning is a great example as Eve has decided the last few days to utilize her puppy powers of cuteness, big brown eyes, and cute wagglely tail to get what she wants from me.  As I attempt to put my socks and shoes on, she wiggles her way in between me and those items using her powers as a ploy to either A) get me to stay home and spend my days rubbing her ears,  B) get me to give her treats before I leave the house, or C) all of the above plus a walk to walk off those unnecessary calories.  How am I supposed to say no to such obvious daddy worship?  Well, I can’t which is obvious by the growing bellies of our pups and I relinquish all control to them.  Am I headed for disaster?

What say you diligent followers?