Saturday, August 13, 2011

Shedding my dignity...


This is not my dog.  Although this one does resemble my second husky quite a bit...  See all the hair?  That is exactly what my carpet looks like.  Even when I vacuum four times a day.  Which I do, during summer and winter shedding times.  You can see fur float across on the kitchen table, as it is propelled by the ceiling fan.  It's on the bathroom counter.  In the sock drawer.  If you sneeze, you will see 50 billion hairs rise up, and settle again.

I hate shedding time.

I have lived with this phenomena for over twenty years, so I have gone through this at least 40 times.  No wait- 39.  One time my dad shaved Kai, my first husky, with clippers.  I don't think she ever forgave me for that.  I just wanted to share my pain, and bitch about having to vacuum again today.

And whatever you do...don't EVER google images of "dog fur".  Especially if you love dogs.  Just.....don't.

Kiddie Kleptomaniacs...



Colin is driving me absolutely crazy lately... he is bent on sneaking off with anything and everything.  All week long I have been retrieving various items from trash cans, floor vents, toilets, dark recesses of closets, the dishwasher/clothes washer/dryer... it goes on and on. 

He has become especially adept at utilizing any climbing device available - nothing short of dragging chairs or stools from room to room to get to what he wants.  In one day this week I fished his crocs out of the kitchen trash, found multiple magnetic letter tiles for our spelling program stuffed into the shreader (it was off, but the safety flap was open), fished matchbox cars, spoons/knives/forks, dogfood and about a billion Cheerios from the floor vents, pencils, Legos and Barbie shoes in the kitty litter box, and found him multiple times running around with steak knives that he had retrieved from the dishwasher.  Pointy end up, no less.

Never before have I felt so certain that mortal disaster is immenent.  He scales the furniture, runs full-steam into the street, throws himself backwards while I am carrying him - I have unintentionally dropped him three times because of this -and is attracted to all things sharp and deadly.  I feel like my only job of late is to prevent this child from accidentally killing himself.  I say this lightly, but this blogger and her heartache is always in the back of my mind.  I also think that my friend and fellow blogger Johi, coudn't have related her own frustrations any better... enjoy!  And visit her often because she is freakin' hilarious!

Rylan and Owen both went through this stage, but never to this degree.  I am not big on safety-latch stuff because it is bulky/ugly and a pain-in-the-ass to deal with.  The only exception are certain under-the-counter kitchen cabinets.  And really - this stage only lasts for a few months and then they move beyond it - and you are left with a toilet that is impossible for any human to open.  I suppose the upshot of that is that your toilet would stay clean.  Not sure about the floor around it though.

I just have to stay on top of closing doors, removing all chairs/stools/boxes from reach and not leaving stuff out - and never, ever going to visit anyone else's house.  The problem is that there are three other children in the house that DO constantly leave stuff out - like markers, scissors and glue, toothpaste and dirty socks.  I have a dog that requires food and water to be left out on the floor and a cat that requires two litterboxs.  Most problematic of all is a husband that leaves every tool imaginable - the more deadly the better, out in plain, reachable view.  Sorry honey, but it's true.  I am outing us all - we are chronic never-put-awayers and I need Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle's special purple powder to cure us permanently.  Or I will go insane.