Warning: I'm hormonal and sick. Also irritated. I'm using my blog to vent. And I'm not editing. I apologize. I may read this tomorrow and cringe. But, I live for the moment, so here I go.
Once there was a girl who had a major lapse in judgment. One that wouldn't go away any time soon. One that made the things around her smell unpleasant and added to the chaos of her already crazy life in so many unforeseen ways. She agreed to get a puppy. A pooping. peeing. stinky. chewing. puppy. A puppy that, of course, everyone else just loves. These are the people who don't have to clean up after the puppy and don't seem to notice how terrible he smells. The people that don't already wipe two butts besides their own several times a day and clean up after two other small creatures constantly. I take full responsibility for my lapse in judgment, but currently, I'm coming down off of a literal urge to throw the dog outside without his leash and shut the door. Buh-bye chewface!
I know this sounds like a big case of "poor me." Dustin reminds me every time I rant about the dog how most people have dogs, bigger than ours, and small children all at the same time and love it. Well, they must not smell the dogs. Maybe they weren't pregnant and nauseous/moving/nesting when they got the dog. Maybe their kids were out of the stage where they sprinkle all of the toys around the house as expensive chew toys for said dog. Maybe they aren't concerned with the seemingly small things that add up over the course of a day and make me work way too hard to be a nice, calm mother to my children. Dustin also reminds me that I agreed to the dog. And I did. I had just had a miscarriage and was very much ready to have another baby. Hormonal to say the least. I had also just gotten a major guilt trip about how everyone else has a dog and didn't I have a dog growing up that I have good memories of and wouldn't I want to extend that joy on to my small, dogless children and not be the mom that stands in the way of their happiness. Then I saw the words "mini wiener dog puppies" on craigslist and suddenly I wanted to take a look at them. Not only am I not a dog person, I particularly do not enjoy small dogs. Hormones are life's hidden enemy. Who was I that day? I have no. idea. And who looks at a small, cute puppy and doesn't kind of want it? But I digress. Let me start at the beginning of the day. Each and every day.
So, it's 6:30am, the kids are waking up needing to pee and have a change of diaper. They are thirsty and want their vitamins. They are cold and want their robes and a tv show pronto! They are interested in what's to come for the day and have a million questions to throw at me. Me, who also has to pee and is also cold and wants my robe and is also thirsty and needs. coffee. Me, who also needs to figure out what we are doing for the day and what we're all going to eat in a few minutes. Me, who also has to get the dog and take him pee outside in the cold in my robe for all the neighbors to see. Me, who also has to feed the dog (with olive oil poured over the top... thanks, Dustin, for making our dog a total snob) then immediately take him outside in the cold again in my fresh-out-of-bed, exhausted, wearing-my-robe-and-pajamas-and-no-bra-mind-you state to watch him sniff around forever to find the perfect place to poop while the children scream at me from the door about something all while trying to escape. The other scenario for this is that I get busy trying to start breakfast and miss the "signal" from the dog and end up with a steaming pile of awful-smelling dog poop by the front door to RUN to get rid of before Naomi decides it's playdoh. Good. Morning. UGH. I'm not a morning person, obviously, and I am clearly also not a dog person. At all.
The dog and I have no bond. I have no loyalty to the dog. So, bending over several times a day with my giant belly to to put a leash on the dog (mind you, he reaches my ankles... it's bending WAY over) to have him to poop and pee in our yard for me to smell and look at and have to pick up or remind my husband to pick up is obnoxious. Having brand new rugs that, in my opinion, smell like dog now (along with some AWFUL "long-lasting" carpet deodorizer that Dustin spread ALL over the house than sucked into my vacuum filter to help ensure I did not smell dog when I returned home from Oregon - thanks, babe. Intent noted. It was sweet... if not super, duper stinky. ) makes me mad every single day. The dog ruins life. He smells and is in the way and eats all the nice wooden toys that I had hoped to save as keepsakes for the kids. I don't save things. I get rid of things. So, the fact that he eats the FEW things that I want to save makes me think very lowly of him. The larger I get, the more angry it makes me to bend down to pick up whatever his latest chew victim is to throw it in the trash.
This rant is officially going in circles. What else can I say except that I want to give the dog an eviction notice so bad I can taste it. But, the kids and Dustin love him and I would forever be the one who took away the beloved family pet. So, I'm stuck
The end.
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Oh Cuz, I have been exactly where you are! I agreed to a pot bellied pig the day I found out I was pregnant with Eleanor. It was the worst, most expensive mistake! We did end up getting rid of the $400 mistake for FREE a few weeks later. Luckily, the family was ok with it, the dogs hated her, so she would have been bacon, poor thing. I totally get the stinky mess thing. I think we both have this "clean gene", Bill doesn't inderstand that I *NEED* things to be clean to just function, let alone be happy and thrive. (I hope it skips my children, it really is exhausting isn't it?) I love dogs, big dogs and my kids love their dogs. Remember, the chewing and pooping in the house won't last forever. Make Dustin do some really good training with him everyday. An exhausted puppy is a great puppy! Also, crate training? Being able to put the pup away to give you a break sounds essential at this point! This may be another one of those things we do for our families that we hate. It is good for kids to grow up with pets, soon enough they will be able to take care of him more. Hang in there!
ReplyDeleteThanks, Jenny. I'm sure there is a light at the end of the tunnel! Otherwise, who'd have a dog? Dustin has him trained pretty well and we crate trained him from day one, so he does go in the crate at night and when we're gone (thank goodness). Teething has hit and he went from being stinky and chaotic, to downright unacceptable! But, you have a really good perspective on it. With any luck, I'll follow suit and adopt your mentality! It would help us all out if I could! Seriously, though, with that cleaning gene! It's a really crazy need! MUST have a clean, organized house or, like you said, I do not function! Comforting to see that I'm not the only one it struck!
ReplyDeleteI call our dog, Max, our 4th child. Granted we went through the puppy stage while I was pregnant with Luke, so he is past the chewing unless he gets a hold of a diaper everyone once in awhile.... what I will say with 3 other little ones now, is that Ben is charge of Max. I walk Max when Luke is at school (bc then I can take the double stroller), and take I Max out to the playground- but Ben feeds him in the morning and at night, and he walks him when he gets home from work and especially on the weekends. Otherwise I would feel really overwhelmed with the house cleaning, the 3 kids etc. Maybe that will help out a little bit...
ReplyDeletebut if not- hang in there:)
This is absolutely hilarious and sums up my life and terrible lapse in judgement a year and a half ago when I (yes, me) led the charge to get a cute little fluff-ball of a white puppy.
ReplyDeleteHe, too, has been a "pooping, peeing, stinky, chewing puppy" and might I add a puking puppy too. I'd be embarrassed to tell you how many times I have had to take sofa cushions and floor rugs to a professional cleaner - probably spent enough to buy a NEW sofa or rug truthfully. And the only difference between my choice and yours besides the physical length of the dog? I wasn't pregnant. I wasn't hormonal. Not even menopausal. Just plain stupid.
But I will say, he's cute and he's growing on me. And thankfuly growing out of the yuk stage. Hang in there. The hormone surges and the puppy stage will pass. Of course, there is always the option of "accidentally" leaving the front door open.