I’m coming to the conclusion that, besides looking completely different and having a totally different outcome depending on which one you kill (not saying you ever WOULD…just stating there’s a huge difference…), I’m pretty sure puppies and toddlers are practically interchangeable.
For instance: when you don’t have one, you want one. You think their crying is pathetically cute and want to make it all better. You try to come up with reasons why you should have one even though you’re not entirely sure you can afford one…but you’re pretty sure you’ll be able to. When you go over to your friend’s houses you pick theirs up and play with them and want to bring them home at the end of the night.
Then you get one. You realize their crying is not cute when it is 6am and you haven’t been to bed yet, and you have reached the point of begging/weeping/yelling because, COME ON, what more could they want?? The 18 consecutive hours of feeding, cleaning up of bodily functions, entertainment and attention weren’t enough?? You’re left trying to remember the reasons you wanted one in the first place, especially considering how much they are costing you, financially AND emotionally. You totally can’t afford this. Oh yeah, and aside from play dates, you will avoid interaction with anyone else’s children or puppies, because quite frankly, you do not care about them when you have your own at home demanding constant attention. Bring theirs home with you? HA! Can you keep yours there?!
I know by now you’re thinking, wow, Alicia…bad day? And you don’t care about my children or my pets that I consider family??
I’ll avoid answering that. I’d like to keep the three friends I have (…give or take a few…).
I’m actually very happy we bought a puppy. Odie has been a really great addition so far, and Levi is getting along with him so much better than I expected. I had the mistaken idea that Odie was going to be MY dog, but was corrected this morning when taking Levi out of his crib: “Want MY doggy, mommy! Want MY doggy!”
The two proceeded to drive me nuts all day. I look over and see Odie trailing Levi…but backwards. Weird…OH, Levi is pulling his tail. NO, NO!! Odie, however, did not actually look like he minded, and seemed a bit miffed at my interference in his free ride. Levi is that a knitting needle?? Where did you find that!! Don’t stab Odie with it!! Oh my GOSH! Again, Odie: completely nonplussed, licking Levi’s foot as his boy attempts a surgical procedure on him with a knitting needle. LEVI! ARE YOU REALLY ABOUT TO STEP ON ODIE…ON PURPOSE?? AM I RAISING A MONSTER?? My child, looking properly ashamed, lies on the floor and, facing Odie, says “Sowwy.” Odie promptly jumps on Levi’s face and tries to rip out a chunk of his hair. Clearly, I am interfering where no interference is needed; they are the perfect couple. I have yet to hear one of them cry, even when I’ve seen Odie’s mouth clamped around Levi’s hand as Levi tried, for the zillionth time, to smother him with his blanky.
And let me expound on those bodily functions (from paragraph 3, in case you feel the need to verify that this was, in fact, previously brought up) while I’m ranting about my day. Those two are working together, I tell you. For the most part, Odie is very good about only pooping on his puppy pads, thank goodness. I’m not sure why he is diligent about pooping in the same spot, however, when he pees ANY D*** PLACE HE FEELS LIKE. Let’s take a peek inside Odie’s head: Carpet? Of course. Couch? Why not! Is that a blanket? How luxurious! What’s this, mommy put down more puppy pads so I can’t miss? While this presents a frustrating obstacle to my diabolical plot to drive her over the edge of madness, I have successfully mastered pushing aside the pads so that any fluids dispersed won’t even touch their edges. I am a puppy NINJA.
At least I don’t have to deal with that with Levi, WHEW! …BUT NO, WAIT! Oh, silly Alicia, have you not learned your lesson yet? Your cocky attitude has once again brought about utter destruction and chaos in the form of… Diarrhea! CHA CHA CHA!
That’s right. I decided that, despite Levi’s attempts to drive me insane today, I would let him indulge in a little chocolate ice cream with me. (Aka I desperately needed chocolate but it wasn’t Levi’s bedtime yet, and attempting to eat chocolate OR ice cream, let along the two together, without sharing would be downright impossible). So I shared my ice cream. I deserve a reward for that, right? Guess what I got instead? “Look, Mommy!” …Oh, Levi, you got ice cream all over your hand… let me wipe that up for—wait…what is that smell? WHAT IS THAT SMELL?! And why is it SO strong?
I was fine. Really. I only freaked out a little, but was able to promptly clean and sanitize his hand and change him without any major problem. …OR so I thought.
How did I miss the fact that you-know-what happened to be smeared all over his right foot and ankle?? Please tell me…because I DON’T HAVE A CLUE. It was a pleasant little “uh-oh, look what I missed” moment when Levi climbed into my lap.
So there you have what prompted this flow of ranting, blanket assumptions concerning how people feel upon obtaining a puppy or toddler, psychic puppy mind reading, and subsequent storytelling. Allow me to clarify that, despite the ridiculous amount of #1 and #2 cleanup going on around here, and my constant need for vigilance in the case of “accidental” stabbings with random sharp objects, I am very grateful for my son…and Levi. (JUST KIDDING! I’m not one of those people who REALLY considers a puppy their child… I just like to pretend). I am extremely happy that Levi has a new friend to keep him company, and that they already seem to love each other so much. I am definitely blessed… and will be reminding myself that as I smell hints of diarrhea in my living room for the next week and try to unsuccessfully sniff out its source.
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