I think Riley needs a new sweater, Chris doesn’t. https://www.ispot.tv/ad/AdQo/petco-black-friday-sale-rileys-sweater Love0 Share Tweet Share Pin
Riley’s Sweater PETCO parody
Tag Archives: dogs
cake bites
Just a typical Friday night. Love0 Share Tweet Share Pin
catch up
I’m so behind on posting, not that anyone really cares, but I’ve been working, yay! It’s like I’m almost a working actress, but “working” is a term I use loosely, like very loosely. Image a person who has a full … Continue reading
sickling
My Friday night consisted of staying up wayyyy past my bedtime and being pantless. From an outsiders perspective I could see how that could be interpreted as fun but let me assure you, no part of my evening was fun. Ok well the part where C kept gagging was a little bit hilarious and I did drink a lot but it was Friday – TGIF.
Anyway the real story on why I was pantless was O got the vomits and it was bad. It started in my car, while I was driving.
That’s always a challenge – where to safely pull over? what to do with the mess? Panic mode. Cue gag reflex. I ended up using her clothes to wipe the carseat down as best I could and stuck her in W’s snowsuit. The whole car was just destroyed. It went everywhere.
I’m yelling “in the bag!” and W’s yelling “O, stop it! Your going to make me throw up!” and O’s yelling “I can’t stop!” It was very traumatic for all of us we were all crying and gagging and suffering.
About last night though, I thought for sure I was in the clear after that car episode. I had already cleaned the car, all the clothes, stuck O in the bath and changed my clothes, mostly because I just felt disgusting. Laid O on the couch and gave her and W popsicles, and then O perked up. She seemed better, she said she was hungry. In retrospect that was probably where I screwed myself but what do I know. So I made her dinner, and dessert of course. Chicken soup and an ice cream sandwich, and lots of crackers – and apparently she drank like a freaking gallon of water.
O fell asleep on the couch around 8.
C and I watched a few episodes of Arrow and I ended up carrying her into the bedroom with me around 10. We are a season behind everyone on Arrow so don’t tell me what happens.
I initially fell asleep easily, only to be assaulted by hot human vomit, partially digested Campbell’s Darth Vader noodles smacking me directly in my face. I sat up immediately in shock, familiar with the awful sound of human vomit expulsion, but also confused from being so abruptly shaken from a deep sleep, I was literally just on a picnic with Justin Bieber and Adam Sandler had brought fried chicken – so I was like really freaking disoriented and had that pins and needles feeling while trying to figure out where the hell I really was and what the F I should actually be doing.
Meanwhile O the human vomit hose was just expelling from her face in whichever direction I pointed her, I had no lights but I assume it was very similar to the infamous pea soup exorcist scene. As I mentioned the first explosion apparently went upward and then back downward all over us, I grabbed her up and hung her over the bed while simultaneously crawling through a warm pool of chunky liquid. No clue why I hung her over the bed, that was so stupid. She sprayed the wall and got the entire floor on her side of the bed really well, when my foot hit the floor I felt the heave of my gut while tender noodles squished up between my toes. Her head then started spinning in circles while she was screaming in latin! Just kidding, but she did spray the bathroom door, the bathroom floor and the glass shower door before I could get her over the toilet. Then I stood there debating whether or not to wake up C…
Oh hell yes. I stripped the bed while he cleaned the floor. He doesn’t handle vomit. He gags and retches like a little pussy. At least I was entertained while I was pulling layers off soaked linens the bed. What do you do? It sucks so bad. It smelled so bad. Preschool vomit is totally like real human vomit. Baby vomit isn’t even called vomit, it’s called “spit-up” because its from a baby and I guess that’s cuter than straight vomit. Our dog Lady throws up all the time because she has an internet-diagnosed eating disorder but I don’t even call that vomit, I refer to that as Barf, I think because it sound like “bark” and dogs bark so its one of those weird association things I guess… The very worst dog barf I ever clean was when Lady ate an entire zucchini bunt cake I made for Easter. She ate the entire cake and barfed excessively all over my bedroom. That was even worse than the time she ate rocks, or the time she ate a bag of rotten chicken necks of the pier, even worse then the blanket, the carpet, and all the other inedible objects she has consumed then expelled.
The worst part of all this is W will be next. I saw them sharing their popsicles and another time I saw them sharing drinks, I wanted to yell and scream but whats the point? It was already done. She has been exposed. I am in for more. I’m sad.
fun & games
Sometimes I call my mom and ask her if my kids are normal. I wonder if that’s normal. I would look on the internet but I’ve learned my lesson far too many times from doing that. The more recent child weirdness I’ve experienced is them making up their own shady games. I don’t get these games. The way the two of them laugh so freaking hard and hysterically it’s almost as if the games mean something I don’t get. Like an inside joke! I finally couldn’t take it anymore and made O give me the low down on the two most popular games they have been playing. Get ready for some ambiguity.
The top two weird games my kids play and created on their own.
- Grabby Goat. Yes. What the hell is that. O tried to explain.
O “Someone puts a blanket on top of something and then someone grabs it off.”
Um, ok.
Me “like puts a blanket on top of some toys?”
O “uh, noooo, only on top humans”
Me “humans as in W?”
O “well, yea, I always have to be the goat because W will just bite me. She always tries to bite me and she bit me in my arm, see?” - Man in his Truck. There was no plausible explanation for this alleged game. O said the game is that W pretends to be a “man, in his truck” when she wears our dog, Lady’s pink doggles. Doggles are Dog sunglasses/goggles. So W puts the pink Doggles on then both of them run wildly around the entire house screaming “man in his truck! man in his truck! man in his truck!” like coked up maniacs. I have so many unanswered questions. Why she is a man? What do doggles have to do with a truck? I tried to press O for additional background on this game to no avail. Trade secrets maybe.
I may never understand the inner workings of preschool minds or their methods for developing games. It may just be an excuse to run around the house and act crazy, I wish they would create a quiet game, maybe they could pretend to be Cinderella and clean the whole house? Now that’s a game I can get behind.
swiper
W has evolved overnight. She went from fragmented sentences to elaborate pretend play in like the blink of an eye. Her new favorite past time besides literally torturing the dogs by dragging them around the house on leashes and tying them to door knobs, is enacting scenes from the tv shows she watches. Right now she is swiper everything.
She will tell me to say “swiper, no swiping. swiper, no swiping.” then she will use this game as a valid excuse to launch something of value that I am currently doing across the room.
While I was hanging clothes in my closet she pulled shoes of my shoe rack and screamed “YOU’LL NEVER FIND THEM NOW” and threw them out of the closet. Thanks for that. This game sucks.
She threw my toothbrush in the bathtub the other night.
She takes the decorative wooden balls off the top of the dogs bed and throws them on the floor probably hoping I slip on them.
This is hilarious on so many levels. W playing swiper with Nika and then screaming at Lady to Be QUIET. Then W running for her life when Lady starts barking at the door, and poor Nika. Poor, poor Nika.
second child syndrome
I guess I should throw some pictures up of our second child too… small dogs are so different than the big ones. Not that I don’t love my little dog, she just requires much more and is less resilient than the bigger one. And peoples kids LOVE the small ones which makes it harder.
A face (ears) only a mother (or a Papillon fan) could love.
I think she’s so freaking cute, not to be confused with a Chihuahua, puuuuh-leeeease. 
Not a water-dog, yes she is a semi diva.
Not a purse pooch either, which is what I always wanted so I make her do it anyway. You can clearly see the look of distaste in her ears!!!
Sometimes a snuggle-bunny. But on her terms of course. She’s a total momma’s girl, not a real people person, you know stranger-danger and all that.
best dog ever
Everybody has a best dog ever but whatever. I can say though with much certainty that everyone who has met our girl has been won over. She has a pocket full of tricks that would impress even the most stuffy cat-lover.
She is getting up there in age and we think she just had a stroke so the side of her face looks a bit like her Madame Tussaud’s wax replica stood a little too close to an open flame. But the vet assures us strokes in dogs aren’t as damaging as in people and she’ll firm back up over time.
A true Lab, she has had an exciting life of boating, beaching and family fun. We invested in a camper specifically so we cold drag our furbabies everywhere with us. It’s really the perfect solution. 
Her only flaw is her bottomless pit. She has eaten herself into lots of trouble in her lifetime. Including eating greasy rocks from under the grill, she ate a blanket that required surgical removal of her intestines for manual “milking” that was awesome, sticks, loaves of bread, full freshly baked cakes, lots of paper products, some plastic products, bones, grass, fake indoor plants, cat litter excessively, lots of diapers, and a wide assortment of wild and domestic feces.
The best human pillow ever.
Our best dog ever.
terrible twos
W is so cool. Not gonna lie, she’s a little bit too much edgy right now (sweet Miss USA quote btw!). She’s got teeth busting through every which way and a diaper rash that just won’t quit. Between a lactose intolerance and creeping up on the terrible two’s she’s basically a ticking time bomb. I’m like scared of her. Not scared of her, so much as scared to leave the house with her.
She is the wild one; no patience, table dancing, talking back, all the normal terrible two aspects. Here is her and the dog sitting on the kitchen table watching TV. Because that’s normal.
