Have you ever had “one of those days?” You know the ones I’m talking about! To quote the Bryan White song,
♫ Have you ever had one of those days
When you really need a friend
The day drags on and on
And you think there’s no end
Then you know how I feel ♪
Well, today is one of those days!
Thankfully, the friend I really need will be home soon, riding in on his great white…….. errrrr….. red steed, and he will save the day!
What I planned as a tentatively low-key day has turned into anything but that! But in reality, that is most days around our house!
Like I tell people, when we hear the usual comments, “are all of these children yours?”, life is NEVER boring in our world, and I do mean NEVER!
Our life consists of a mommy and a daddy- the way God intended things to be, 5 children, 3 dogs and a cat- or our zoo, as I lovingly describe us.
So today is really no different from all the others, and yet, it is so very unique in its own way. If I were not actually experiencing it along the way I would have to laugh and say there’s just no way these things happen! Oh, but they do happen!
In the last couple of months, one of our dog’s has started acting out. If you have a dog, you know they are just another child. Well, I say one of the dog’s, but in reality it is more likely that one dog taught the other two dogs some very bad habits.
It started with the bread basket. When we would leave the house, we would come home to the bread being pulled out of the basket on the counter, with just a few lonely crumbs left behind. I bought a plastic bread keeper to store the bread in, inside the basket. That deterred the issue for about 5.2 seconds. The next time we came back home, the bread keeper was pulled out of the bread basket, and there were tell-tell doggy teeth marks all over the container. The next time we left, we put the bread basket on top of the refrigerator. Problem solved.
Or so we thought.
Then it was the trash can. Let me assure you, it is absolutely no fun at all to come home to the kitchen trash can being turned over, the bag ripped out, and an obvious feast on whatever miniscule particle of scraps they could find. Fine, I thought- we will put the trashcan in the laundry room when we leave. Bread basket on the refrigerator- check. Trashcan in the laundry room- check.
There wasn’t much more for them to get into. There was not a single crumb of food left out, so we should be good.
Wrong again. It was then a dramatic show of emotion when everything- yes, I do mean everything– was pulled off the counter top. It was actually a decorative box that we keep miscellaneous items that we need frequently in. It was dumped on the floor.
By this time I’m beginning to think someone really does not like it when we leave the house!
The next crisis involved the “dadoos”. Please allow me to translate 3-year-old speak for you. Dinosaurs. Yes, the little plastic creatures, which have become our 3-year-old‘s best friends, now have become the mortal enemy of our chocolate lab. I suppose she took offense to the fact that the baby toys are being replaced by these ugly little creatures, and she has decided to take out her aggression on them every chance she gets! We made the mistake of leaving one out one day while we were out and about. Unfortunately, “Mr. Daddo” did not make it!
“Easy enough to fix,” I thought. We will just make sure that all the little creatures are put away.
The next time we left the house, we came home to a virtual annihilation of numerous “Dadoos” all over again! Remember that saying, “history repeats itself”? Yes, once again, the collection of pre-historic friends were all but extinct! Little Miss Attitude went to the great lengths of actually opening up the toy box and specifically targeting the dadoos! Thankfully, a quick trip to Wal-Mart remedies the extinction issue, and the 3-year-old is perfectly happy once again!
But mommy….. not so much! I now had to put on my thinking cap and find a way to keep the dog out of the toy box while we are out. Aha! The toy work bench which serves as a book case for our toddler paleontologist! I just have to make sure the bread basket, the trash can, the decorative box the counter is secure- and now we have make sure the workbench is on top of the toy box. As if I do not have enough of a task getting 5 children out the door in a reasonable amount of time!
Is this not the definition of insanity?
That worked… for a few days. Then it happened. It was the straw that broke the camel’s back for this mommy! The first straw didn’t break me, but after 3 separate incidents I’ve had enough! She is now targeting the books! She’s not just finding a book sitting around that someone is reading! No, she is actually taking the books off the shelf so she can tear them up!
I know what you are thinking. That is not possible! Oh, how I wish that were true!
We decide we are going to have to kennel her when we leave. I do not like this idea, but something has to give! We’ve not made it to the pet store to purchase the kennel, so I decided to just put her in the back yard on a lead for a few hours while I was gone. Problem solved- finally!
Yeah… not so much!
Yesterday I came home to more books being pulled of the shelf! Ahhhhh, so it wasn’t just Little Miss Attitude! We now have two Little MR. Attitudes to go along with it!
So today I put the Little Miss Attitude and the husky on the leads and put the yorkie in his carrier. And this weekend, we will be getting kennels!
It was such a nice change, not having to make sure the bread basket is on the refrigerator, the trash can is in the laundry room, the decorative box is secure, the dadoos are put in the toy box, and the workbench is on top of the toy box. I was able to leave the house, take care of my errands, and come back home to a house that has not been targeted by the Woof Gang Pups!
I fed the kids, reminded the kids of their chores, sat down and had my lunch, made a couple of phone calls, and then decided to fix dinner. It’s an easy night for us- chili! Throw everything together, simmer until dinner, and I can relax for just a few minutes!
I let the dogs out to go potty, stirred the chili one last time, went to let the dogs in so I could go sit down in front of the TV to catch up on thew News of the Day. That’s when it happened!
You know how you see something out of the corner of your eye that just doesn’t look right?
I saw the husky running in from outside, and it occurred to me that he was up to something. Like I said, they are just like kids. You know when they are up to no good!
He was trying to be sneaky- and he thought he had gotten away with it- for at least a few seconds! But then I started chasing him, telling him to come back to me. Interestingly enough, he chose to ignore my command! Hmmmmm… I wonder why!?
He had something in his mouth. I thought it was a stick. It had been my full intention to take it away from him, scold him, throw it back outside, and it would all be over with in a matter of seconds.
Again… not so much!
He finally dropped it. And I screamed. Not a high-pitch, fearful scream, but a startled, “what am I going to do now?” scream!
There, laying on the stairs, was a bird. A dead bird. And the husky was smiling like he had achieved something big! He wanted me to praise him! Oh, the audacity!
Oh, what do I do now? Dear Lord, you have got to be kidding me!
Unfortunately, when I screamed, the kids came running to the gate at the top of the stairs to see what was wrong. I instructed my oldest son to come downstairs quickly. The 3-year-old wanted to come with him, and was quite devastated when I wouldn’t allow that to happen!
And then the 3-year-old saw the bird and started crying- “Buwd, mommy, buwd huwt!”
“Honey, mommy’s taking care of the bird, everything’s fine, just go play.”
Lord… please let everything be fine!
I instructed my oldest son to go get me a grocery bag so I could pick up the dead bird. I didn’t want to leave the bird unattended with Husky the Destroyer, or there would be no bird to pick up. However, the mess that would have been the result was definitely something I wanted to avoid!
The bag was delivered and quickly, yet ever so reverently placed over the deceased. Hmmmm…. but now, how do I actually pick it up off the stairs? If it twitches in my hand for some odd reason, or I happen to lose my grip, I know the aftermath will be less than fun! I instructed my helper to get me the dust pan. Mission accomplished! The deceased is scooped into the dust pan, my son ceremoniously opens the door for me, I exit left to the trash can, deliver the 2 second eulogy, apologizing for Husky the Destroyer. It is doggy nature, I suppose, but not something I am proud of for him!
Now I have to vacuum up all the feathers that have been left behind. Thankfully there is no blood- I stepped in before it had gone that far.
All the while I’m vacuuming I hear the most distraught crying, “Mommy, buwd! Buwd, Mommy, Buwd!”
I turn off the vacuum to reassure the 3-year-old that everything is fine, I’ve taken care of it, all the while saying a silent prayer that God will just erase this from his memory and he will go about his playtime!
Finally the stairs are feather-free. The 3-year-old wants me to hold him. I allow him to come down. I am expecting him to come down the stairs, leap into my arms, and give me the biggest hug his little arms can muster! It happens all the time!
But not today!
He heads straight to the trash can, lifts the lid, and asks, “Buwd, Mommy?”
This little dude is TOO SMART for his own good!
When he realizes that there is no bird in the trash can, he seems perplexed. I do not have the heart to tell him the burial site is the trash can in the driveway. I try to appease him. It doesn’t work.
For the next hour he marches around the house calling out for the “buwd”. I keep reminding him that everything is fine, mommy has taken care of it!
It’s been one of those days, and this one is for the birds!