Tonight when we got back from dinner, I headed over to the schoolyard to throw the ball around with Dylan and a couple of his buddies.
On our way back, we ran into my neighbour from a few doors down and you’ll never guess who was with him.
Awwww yeah baby.
I finally said goodbye, sayonara, adios, cheerio, arrivederci, au revoir, auf wiedersehen, do not pass go, do not collect $200, and get the fuck outta here to my X.
I held on to my X for a LONG time. I clung to how my X my me feel, cozy, safe, covered.
I clung to my 2X and 1X during and after being pregnant with Thomas.
WELL NO MORE. Finally, after nearly 4 years, I have BROKEN FREE of my X:
I’ve been walking for nearly two hours with Ruffy. It’s 11:28 p.m. here.
Mylie is gone. She got out of her collar when I walked her tonight and bolted. She is like a jackrabbit - fast as hell. She has no collar, nothing. I’m afraid she is gone for good.
She’s so little. I hope that someone kind finds her if she doesn’t come back.
Going to get in the car now. I hope she is okay.
UPDATE: It’s 2 a.m. She isn’t home. Will continue the search in the a.m. It’s futile to keep going alone tonight. I don’t feel safe being out there by myself.
UPDATE #2: It’s 11:30 Saturday night. We’re thinking there is a good chance that another family has her. She is such a sweet dog, I can only say hope that whoever found her is kind and patient. All avenues we tried today have led to dead ends.
“She will eat all of Mr. Potato Head’s parts! Clean up the toys - your childhood is over. Thank Mylie.”
“Ruffy is just breathing hard in my ear.”
“But I WIKE the taste of Mylie’s tongue Mom!”
“MYLIE IS CHEWING MRS. POTATO HEAD’S FEET!”
Tonight has been a comedy of errors. SugarHubs is out of town tonight, and has come in 1st in a poker tournament where he won a $600 coin which is a ‘buy-in’ for a larger tournament at the end of March. This ‘buy in’ affords him the chance to play against 124 other guys for a quarter of a million dollars. Totally cool, I know.
But I’m here. With two kids and two dogs.
The SugarSpawn had been sprinting from one extreme (playing loudly and screaming) to the other (fighting loudly and whining) and back again since the after school hour. They barely sat still for the dinner I made, starting by gobbling so fast and exclaiming how good it was to 4 seconds later of “We’re full, can we play Wii?”
At least Dylan read to Thomas tonight. The peace lasted long enough for MiniDog Miley to inhale a furball and choke on it. And choke and choke and choke on it.
I kept scooping up the dry heaving pup and transferring her from carpet to tile in the rec room, hoping for a positive outcome and gagging the whole time. Nothing was coming up but the noise made me really queasy.
You wish you were me at this point, right?
While shuttling The Pukey Little Puppy across the room, I lost sight of my sanity and allowed the offspring to get a little rowdy. Next thing I know they’re wound like little freakshows for the 47th time and I’m wishing I could pick them up by their heads and let their bodies jiggle below them like our characters on the Wii.
I snap out of my parenting fantasy as the MiniDog heaves up the most disgusting mound of GOD-KNOWS-WHAT on the carpet. Ugh.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Thomas smack Dylan and just as quickly, Dylan smacks Thomas’ backside.
I glared at them both. “BED.”
“But he…”
“WE. DON’T HIT. IN. THIS. HOUSE. BED. NOW.”
Thomas was already up the stairs and gone and Dylan started to protest more only to be met with, “BED. DYLAN. NOW.”
He pounded up the stairs like a 15 year old girl. Sigh.
Yes I speak in staccato when I’m frustrated. If I don’t, I turn into the unlikable Yelly Mom. You might have heard of her.
Alone in the rec room, with puppy under my arm and a curious horse (Ruffy) sniffing the air, I crate the dogs so I can clean up.
*gag* *gag* *gag* *I wish I had a HAZMAT suit. *gag* *gag* *gag*
Feeling like I (desperately) need cool air on my face, I take the dogs out front for some fresh air. There’s more snow in the sky than oxygen, but the kids are in bed and it’s only 7:50. That’s kinda good. It’s peaceful outside as the snow falls in big fat flakes on my jacket and mitts.
I love the quiet of a new snowfall and tonight is no exception. It’s lovely.
Inside, back to Calm Mama, I kiss the kids goodnight and head downstairs.
I curl up in the recliner with my laptop and MiniDog jumps on to the footrest. She gently paws at my legs so I’ll open them, crawls between my knees and sticks her head under the laptop.
Yes, right into my crotch. She’s been sleeping there for 3 hours.
That’s why I wish I had a camera. Nothing would top this evening better if I could take a picture of my warm crotch for you.
“I’m sorry I chewed a hole in Ruffy’s giant dog mattress bed.”
———
“And I’m sorry I nearly ate your new winter boots that are totally cute.”
———
“And I’m especially sorry I am so rambunctious and slightly insane. It was just me turning up the cute for you. You can see it into my eyes, right? See the little wrinkle of skin under my eye? I lose sleep over you.”
———
“No more pictures please. I need to chew something else take a nap. See my agent if you need anything more.”
PetSmart is where we live now. No need for a new house in Stepford.
Click to enlarge:
Mylie FLIPPED when I played Dooce’s latest video so I grabbed the camera:
Next, they will have twitter accounts.
Ruffy is nearly 6, but in dog years, that’s like 342. She’s generally a bit of a bag, complete with a thyroid that needs a tune up and a disdain for reality t.v. Mylie has taken years off of Ruffy’s life. The first day was rather interesting, as Ruffy followed Mylie around with her nose up Mylie’s butt 97% of the time. The other 3% was spent growling at this new creature if it got too close to her food dish.
By day two, the pair were inseperable, but that wasn’t exactly Ruffy’s doing. She had enough butt sniffing and was pooped from not getting her 16 naps the day before. She acted like a bear who was busy hibernating and Mylie was very much a pest. Naturally, being a puppy and all, she wanted to play with the bear.
Mylie acts like a bumblebee, constantly circling Ruffy, trying to bite her paws and ears, yelping “play with me play with me play with me play with me play with me play with me play with me play with me play with me play with me play with me play with me play with me play with me play with me play with me play with me play with me play with me play with me play with me play with me play with me play with me play with me play with me play with me play with me play with me play with me play with me play with me play with meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!”
Finally, yesterday, Ruffy humoured Mylie by lifting her paw half-heartedly and in slow motion, and slumping it down on the little dog. Mylie loved it and flipped on her back for the 800th time to let Ruffy smell her butt. Good times.
There’s nothing in the world though, like chewing on your little sister’s head to show you how much you love her:
Feed Yourself Sugarpants!
