The dog ate my pregnancy test

I share multiple addictions with millions of women across the world.

Chocolate? I can't remember a day when I haven't had chocolate.

Coffee? Some mornings, I feel like there aren't enough hours before bedtime for me to keep drinking the caffeinated warmth.

Hot showers? If we had invested in one of those endless water heaters instead of our small tank a few years back, I'd venture to guess our water bill would cost more than our house payment.

Pajamas? There must be more of us out there who could absolutely live in pajamas. I can't be the only woman to run to the grocery or pharmacy in them (they rarely look surprised when I do that).

Maybe they aren't addictions at all. Just creature comforts. Normal, justifiable, cozy comforts.

The other day, though, I realized I may have a problem that classifies in the complete opposite category than normal.

When Sprinkles took off with my home pregnancy test in her mouth, the primary thought in my head was "Eww, gross. That's got pee on it." Not "crap, now I don't know if I'm pregnant or not." Because honestly, I already know I'm not. It's a habit. Not a normal one, I'm fairly certain, but one that has been going on for a decade or so in our bathroom.

So on my list of improvements I want to make this year, avoiding the planned parenting aisle at the pharmacy is going at the top of the list. Not wearing my pajamas to the pharmacy, at this point, will have to wait.

6WS: I thought we had a dog...

Someone's trying to catch a monkey?

Visit Show My Face - the Six Word Saturday place.

A heartfelt apology to Barbie and Sprinkles

Did you play with Barbies as a child? If you did, chances are, you also attempted to cut her hair. Maybe once, maybe twice, or maybe - if you were a slow learner like me - you had one favorite Barbie and a box full of the ones you didn't play with because they were nearly bald.

I'm sorry to say, I still haven't learned. Except now I don't play with Barbies, I play with Sprinkles.

Here she is with all her hair:

We had her groomed once, and she looked very cute. We decided to try it ourselves after that, mostly because I waited too long to get her in and then got impatient. It was a mistake. I vowed to never touch scissors to her little brown body again (except of course to snip stray hairs from in front of her eyes - I can handle that!).



Poor, unfortunate Sprinkles... the other day she started acting weird. Our normally happy puppy slumped around the house with her tail between her legs and began digging at her eyes with her paws and then scooting her face across the carpet. I don't know what happened, but her little eyelids were swollen and puffy and obviously itchy. Monsoon and I threw her into the bath, flushed her furry face with water and.... yes, I took the scissors to her again.


I had to. She had to have gotten into something that made her puff up like that and her facial hair might've been harboring whatever it was. So, I snipped, and I got a little carried away in all the nervous rush. Oh, Sprinkles, it's a good thing your hair grows back, because I don't think we can take you out looking this way.

She can't even look at me.

The pic doesn't do the hideousness of my actions justice.

On Vomit & Sleeping Bags

Hubs is at a meeting, I'm washing strawberries (i.e. throwing half of them out because somehow the ones that looked fine IN the store are all grody by the time I get them home) for our camping trip, Monsoon is playing in his room. Or so I thought.

"Uh-oh, Mommy. I got my shoes dirty!"

Odd, since he is in fact inside our house and although I'm not the best housekeeper, there's nothing I can think of that could dirty his shoes unless he's stuck them in the toilet. Crap, he's probably stuck them in the toilet.

Nope. I walk into the living room, which is now covered in tiny shoe-print shaped mud. Nope, not mud. Dog vomit.

So I mentioned that I'm not a great housekeeper... I managed to keep the profanities in my head (how hard it was), clean him up and go back to packing. 20 minutes later....

"Uh-oh, Mommy. That fing fell in there!"

CA-RAP. I'm an idiot. I cleaned up the boy and went right back to packing - leaving the vomit tracks all over the living room. Seriously, I forgot. How does that happen? It happens sometimes in circle houses where there are two routes to the kitchen and I take the one where I don't look at the vomit tracks. So what fell in where, you ask?

My husband's sleeping bag fell into the pile of vomit. It didn't so much "fall" in as I'm pretty sure it was pushed. Profanities not so much only in my head anymore.

What am I doing about it? Told the boy to go play in his room while I cleaned it up, and came in here to blog about it. Yeah, I should probably go clean up the mess before Hubs gets home.

New Doggy Door

Exciting news: we have a new doggy door, which gives Sprinkles more opportunities to meet with the grass for her business. Yay for 2 entire days in a row with no in-house accidents!

Oddly, instead of hoarding my fuzzy slippers and Monsoon's popsicle mold "swords" in her bedroom (cage), I stepped out back yesterday and realized that half of our worldly possessions were scattered across the grass. I think maybe our Easter Puppy is confused about what type of goodies constitute an egg hunt/gift basket.

Did I mention the new doggy door was custom made, and that we received free installation... all courtesy of Monsoon? Unfortunately, we can only use it when the weather is nice.

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It's not as much fun as it looks

My husband got a gag gift of electric nose hair clippers for Christmas one year. He got it out of the box and asked if I wanted to try them out. Gross, I don't have nose hair - I'm a lady! ...and if you ever get to the point of having to use that thing in any orifice of your body, we will no longer be cosleeping.
It lay there for days... on our dresser, stuffed hastily back into the box... a few jokes cracked here and there about the vibrating cutter... Every time I passed the thing, I was more intrigued. Getting past the whole "old-man-ear-hair-and-long-freaking-nose-fur" idea, and wondering (much like the electric shaver in 5th grade) how it worked without cutting the tender skin underneath the furry grossness.

Wondering, wondering, wondering... hmmm... is it just like the shaver, which ended up being such a big relief after 2 years of hearing Janet Hopling talk about how it rips the hair out at the root, only to find it didn't even give a close cut? Or more like that innocent-looking car lighter my uncle just haaad to sniff... up close.

Come on, I'm not that weird. You've all experimented with things that should not have ever been invented (ehem... pool-foolery/vomit-flavored jelly beans/spandex...). For the record, I do not have nose hair, nor will I ever admit to any neeern-nnnt-tz-tz-z-z-ttz sound coming from the thing as the poky part tried to escape through my upper nostril. But OH! the blood. It tried to kill me! There was blood everywhere - and by everywhere, I mean all over my... uh, well, probably the inside of my nose. It was red, though, definitely red. And scary.

Which brings me to the photo up top, which ties in nicely with the nose subject, as you can see right up it. Thanks to Xazmin of This Is The Year for being such a stickler for rules and leaving me with a loop-hole so that I may appear here, as per the "keep it real" tag, in a photo-taken-right-away-at-this-very-moment-as-you-read-it-here with NO "fixing" yourself up first. Poor Sprinkles begged me to make it look like she had at least applied make-up today. I will actually cheat now ('cause the photo-shop clown doesn't count as cheating) and not pass this horrid thing forward. You may all thank me in the comment section.

**Thursday's Big Thing Is Coming....!**

Sneaky Easter Puppy

I realized today that one of my 99 posts is actually a draft, which maybe doesn't quite count. I also noticed that MOST of you who were here yesterday were unable to find my teensy tiny "Easter Puppy." So here's Sprinkles, the incredible disappearing dog. I think you'll be able to spot her now, and I'll be able to post my 100th tomorrow with a clear conscience.

She's sitting up in this one.

SWS: Six Words X 6

UPDATE: Thanks for stopping by! I'm taking the advice of dear friend Sassy Britches and holding off on my 100th post until Monday. Taking Sunday off. Officially.

Click the button to visit Cate at Show My Face for more Six Word Saturday posts!



"I feel boring. Really very boring."

"Tomorrow is my hundredth blog post."

"Thinking of having a giveaway tomorrow."

"'Sundays off' plan... needs some work."

"I need a photo. Let's see..."

Do you see the Easter Puppy?

FX4: April Fools On Me

Candid Carrie's got Photo Phun! Head over there to see the Friday Foto Finish Fiesta.

So I tried to be clever... which does not bode well in any case. Hubby and Monsoon were on their way home from school when I finally found something fun to do for April Fool's Day. I wrestled Sprinkles for the last bits of Sunday's newspaper, taped up a slice of it to the door jam, shoved crumpled funnies on top and crunched the door shut.

Then I waited... camera ready... pre-ejacushot a photo of just the door...

Finally, FINALLY! They arrived... I waited for the exact right moment of "dump & surprise"

Stupid camera. One stinking shot and it fuzzed all up. Pffttt. Ah, well - Monsoon took a few moments to assess the wacki-doo garbage dotting the floor and hanging from the doorway. Yes dear, it's a newspaper. Yes, it's hanging by tape.
He SO does not get how this is funny.

But Sprinkles was excited. Eh, somebody gets me.

Not Me Monday: Not Sprinkles

Welcome to Not Me! Monday! This blog carnival was created by MckMama. You can head over to her blog to read what she and everyone else have not been doing this week.

I certainly did NOT walk Sprinkles out to the back yard yesterday and watch her play with (read: try to eat) a leaf for ten minutes before noticing how odd the stem looked and thinking 'hey, that dry, brown leaf is pretty tough for a dry, brown leaf.' I did NOT then make her drop it, only to find that it was actually a baby mole. No, I absolutely did NOT dry heave at the sight of a flattened, recently deceased beast whose guts had been completely sucked dry by said puppy, who does NOT lick Monsoon's face. NOT ever. I'm NOT getting ill at the thought of it right now, either.

I also did NOT opt to wipe her down with a dryer sheet instead of giving her a bath, so she surely does NOT smell like that grandma at Target who gave me a headache with a single whiff. Of course I'm NOT thinking maybe that would work for Monsoon, too...

Move Along... Nothing to See Here.

Well.... since you asked. I did have fun getting all made-up in the face, but being that this photo is ten hours post-make-over and my grays are several months overdue for a cut-n-color, it's hard to tell anything was done. Now you have a cutie Sprinkle of puppy to avert your attention. I do also love this sweater - it's my "no-neck-fat-therefore-totally-worth-having-my-chin-skin-scratched-off" lovely.

Not to worry, my nose didn't get crushed with a make-up brush, it's crinkled because Sprinkles had just licked my ear... did I mention she had pooed and licked her butt moments before? Oh yes, she's a charmer.

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Ah well. I'm sure I won't notice the smell of pup-poo on my pillow when I wake up in the morning and find my eyes glued shut from the stubborn, left-over mascara and my feet refusing to function after the work-out I gave them in my favorite boots tonight. Those would be my "gaww-geous-but-unreasonably-tall-and-horrendously-uncushioned" beauties. All in all, it's probably best that I dawn pajamas and withhold makeup most days. My body will thank me.

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On the subject of Thank You, I'd like to send one out to Jolly-be-good, who did such a wonderful number on my difficult face; and Blond Luck - it was so good to see you and I'm so glad you came!

Not Me! Monday: A Bath Story

Click the button below to check out MckMama at My Charming Kids for More Not Me! Monday fun.

I did NOT give my son a bath with the puppy this week because Sprinkles did NOT smell like a pig. Monsoon did NOT refuse to get in the tub, NOT wearing me down to the point of NOT throwing Sprinkles in just to get him to bathe willingly. I did NOT let him help me wash her with her special doggie shampoo, and was NOT worried about hurting her puppy skin with regular soap, so I definitely did NOT just use dog shampoo on my child. No, I absolutely did NOT!

I do NOT wish I had gotten a picture, because it would NOT have gone so well with this post. I am NOT afraid you will all judge my (lack of) parenting based on this. NOT at all. Obviously, I am NOT posting this.

More Sprinkles!

Hola! It's Candid Carrie's Friday Foto Finish Fiesta!!!
Head on over here to find more Foto Fun.

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As per A. Snarky's request, I give you...
More Sprinkles!

It's a Race

Look at that face!

She's such a pretty princess!



They really are two peas in a pod!

She has recently (yesterday and today) started a little collection in her "bedroom." (her bedroom being the crate which now holds the bed and pink blankey you see in the pics). I think she's preparing to hibernate, but can't find floor food so she has resorted to socks, a paper bag, my fuzzy pink house slipper, a cup and all her toys. I haven't gotten a pic yet b/c Monsoon keeps taking the things out when she's not in there. BTW, she actually goes to her "bedroom" when she wants her self time - such a girl - it's so cute.

Sprinkles

Our new addition arrived today. She is beautiful and lovey and playful and so, so tiny.

She's not quite sure what to think of Monsoon, but she really likes chasing him around. On the other hand, he doesn't know exactly what to think of her either - he just giggles uncontrollably anytime she's within two feet of him.

Monsoon helped pick her out and decided on her name, all by himself with no help or prompting whatsoever. Funny the things he comes up with when he's given free power. He thought long and hard... for about 30 seconds. "Hmmm...." He looked around the kitchen as he did this. "I think, Sprinkles!" Perfect. I love it. She's Sprinkles.

Sprinkles the chocolate Maltapoo. If there weren't the "poo" in there, you might think she was a dessert. And Monsoon keeps saying she's a Maltee poo-poo. He thinks he's funny... maybe because I laughed and blew pop out my nose.