Saturday, July 19, 2008

Okay, Okay, I'm Up

This morning, I awakened at oh dark thirty hearing a smell. I realize one cannot technically hear smells, but that's the truth of it. One of the dogs was walking around, but there was also no jingle noise, so I deduced the dog in question was the younger beagle. (The older beagle had gotten her ponytail holder off.) This deduction was most unfortunate, because it meant I couldn't just slink back into dreamland with a clear conscience. The younger beagle is the one wearing diapers.

Yes, my auxiliary dog wears a diaper at night, for the same reason your toddler wears one at night. Despite being let out twice in the hour after eating, she doesn't always crap in the yard. She's holding it JUST IN CASE we violate all tradition and rationality and go for a midnight stroll. Of course, come 2:00 AM, she's about to explode like the crap bomb she is, and does it inside. Since most dogs will not willingly get crap on their fur, we put her in a diaper. She then holds it until we wake up between 7 and 8.

This morning, however, she must have really had to go.

So I got up, took her outside, took off the poop-filled diaper, and left both it and the dog outside. The dog, I eventually let back in, but the diaper was going to wait until I was awake.

On my way back in, I realized that one nugget of processed kibble had fallen out the leg hole onto the family room floor. I picked it up with a tissue, flushed it, sprayed bleach on the violated tile, wiped it up, and went back to bed.

Well, I would have, but my husband woke up, realized I wasn't there, and got up to help me deal with whatever had happened. We laughed for a few minutes, and then fell asleep.

Okay, I meant to, but even though the baby had enjoyed his 2 AM feeding as usual not too long before, all the activity convinced him that he was hungry for his dawn feeding NOW, thank you. So I snuggled him, and let him have it. Normally, I drift right off during this process. Normally, he lets go of the nipple when he's done having milk, instead of remaining attached like a barnacle on a shipwreck.

For some reason, this morning he wouldn't let go. So while I drifted off for a few minutes, I woke all the way up in the millisecond it took me to almost roll over and realize I was still attached with the kind of suction reserved for shop vacs and call girls. I detached my little suckerfish, but wow, I was insanely awake.

I had managed to convince my nipple that she would recover when my beloved son reacted as you would think to having an unusual number of feedings in the wee hours on top of not having taken a crap in the previous 36 hours. It was actually a magnificent sound. It was loud, rumbly, long, and ended with a gurgle. He was still deeply asleep, of course, with a face like an angel. But those diaper sounds are a blowout waiting to happen. My husband woke up, but I was already vertical, so I whisked our offspring to the changing station.

Barely containing the avalanche of crap, I got the child clean. I turned my back on him to dispose of the ten pound Pamper. That was when I got hit in the back with the patter of pee. He hasn't peed on us in two months, so at first I didn't even know what it was.

I used the dry part of my nursing bra to mop up the counter. My socks blotted the bathroom rug nicely. The towel the boy was lying on was done for, though, so I scooped up the little guy and replaced the towel one handed. After I finished putting on the clean diaper, I realized he was really, really awake and thrilled to see me. I put him next to his daddy, who was thrilled to see HIM, while I went and threw the rugs into the washer.

I was going back to bed when I saw the crap nuggets that had escaped the dog's diaper... and landed on the carpet, which means I can't bleach the area after picking up the poop. Now I have to get out the Spotbot before I can set my bare feet on that section of floor.

Now I'm half naked, damp, awake, and I'm hiding in the office. It's only just now dawn, but I can't deal with any more excrement today.

Thursday, July 17, 2008

Actual Conversation About Health Care

[16:10] Sanya (explaining why I don't see the point in going to the doctor yet): He's had a cough for five days. But he's five months old. There's nothing they can give him. I've just been nursing him more and letting him sleep longer.
[16:10] Lahdeedah: that's all you can do
[16:10] Lahdeedah: if it gets really bad steam him
[16:10] Lahdeedah: and serve with butter ha ha ha

Before anyone calls CPS - his cough is much better than it was. Probably because I take him into the bathroom while I'm taking a shower. Also, the trick of dribbling breastmilk into the teeny little nose in order to loosen up the boogers really works, and he doesn't scream unlike his performance over the saline drops.

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

Not Sleeping Checklist, Part 1

Is your precious angel not sleeping after a good feeding as nature intended? Give him ten minutes. He may be unable to sleep because of the sensation of an impending crap so mighty that nations will tremble before it.

Bonus advice: Change the child as soon as the post-pooping rumbles have died away before he falls asleep. Mine passes out as soon as he's done, if it was in fact a giant crap keeping him awake. Then I wind up staring at him, trying to decide if the never wake a sleeping baby rule should be violated. I know I should, or else use a hose to clean him and the bouncy seat at the end of the nap. But he looks so peaceful that I just end up blogging about a rhino stampede-halting stench.

The not-so-trained-sorta-good-dog

I had high hopes for obedience school.

I was sure I would come out, Master of Crazy, the family dog.

She would sit, down, stay and, shoot, even roll-over, on a word or a look from me... one raised eyebrow and on her haunches she goes....

So she sits. If she knows that nothing will happen until she sits... but she's willing to wait it out... EVERY SINGLE TIME. You know, in the case that I slip up.

She can lay down.... but she's crankier about it and tries to do it in half-measures. And she'll stay/wait, if we're in the house and she suspects that I'm holding food.

Forget good doggie behavior outside. Oh sure, bicyclists and joggers often thank me for holding the dog back, and she patiently waits until I let go, so she no longer looks like a manic rabid hunting dog looking for some cyclist leg meat, but she still hasn't graduated from the gentle leader, which on her isn't really gentle since she pulls anyhow, especially if there's a bird, squirrell, cat, leaf, or butterfly to chase.

And jumping? I can only suggest that if you come to my house, bring chicken and toss it. It distracts her, and will help the training program with jumping.

But the thing is, despite her stubbornness, despite her successful attempts to pit her patience vs my consistence (I DO try) and despite her complete lack of willpower where food is concerned, (no training can successfully stop that dog from snagging left-out pizza on the table) she's a GOOD dog.

She doesn't bite the kids. She's jumping on them less and less. She's even curbed her nippy tendencies (she's a cattle dog, what can you do) to a large degree. And her eyes? And her waggy happy tail? And how she follows Turbo around with her little tug o war toy? And how she loves his bed? And puts her head in his chair? And her utter contentment with the bone? And how she jumps up and rolls on her back in your lap (until she gets bored of your lap and leaves)? And her futile and misunderstood attempts to befriend the cats? And how she paws you ONLY if she DESPERATELY needs to tell you something?


Monday, July 14, 2008


Crash course in tear ducts - in the corner of your eye, there's a drain. It allows your tears and assorted bits of bacteria to drain into your sinuses instead of out and down your face. That drain is covered by a membrane in unborn babies, and in many, many born babies. Until the membrane pops, tears and bacteria have nowhere to go, so the baby has constant giant gluey eye boogers. Some pediatricians will give you antibiotic ointment, which does clear up the goop... but instead your kid looks like you smeared vaseline on his eyelids. And the minute you stop using the ointment, the goop comes back. You have to decide if it's worth it. The only actual solution is time - my guy had his tear duct pop open the day he turned sixteen weeks old. In very rare cases, at around one year old, kids may need surgery, where a doctor basically takes a wire and pops the membrane.

The reason I want to be sure everyone knows about blocked tear ducts is because without that knowledge, you might look at pictures of me for the first four months of my child's existence and think, ew, does she realize her sleeves are covered with boogers? It was gross, even if they were not true nose goblins. Wherever my son's face would rub against my shirts, he would leave his eye boogers behind. In my daze, I would sometimes not know if I had changed my shirt that day, but all I had to do was look at my upper arms and the truth would stare up at me in a crusty green stripe.

I have managed to find something more disgusting.

Today he has a cold - coughing, snuffling, the works. He is of course nursing a little extra, as nature intended... but when he mashes his nose into my breast, and then pulls off, he is leaving his boogers behind, adorning my nipples with semicolons.

I love every bit of him, including his excretions, but this is ONE STEP TOO FAR.