Downtrodden Dog's Extreme Pedicure

Downtrodden Dog had a disastrous day today.

I'm not sure what exactly happened, but at some stage over night there was an 'incident', no doubt involving the usual hole in the lawn digging douche baggery,  and this morning he was very very lame, and very miserable. I took a closer look to see why he was limping and I noticed this:

He's not just broken a claw - he's torn is out completely, Gestapo style, leaving just a bright red quick. That of course lead to a lot of this:

Oh god!oh god mum it's SOOOOOOOOO sore! oh god poor me, I'm going to die!

Followed by this:

My life sucks, I'm probably never going to walk again :(

So I did what any caring Mumma would do (Hey, he WAS my first baby after all) and took him to the vet. The vet was out delivering a foal at the time, so Downtrodden Dog was dropped off to be picked up after he'd been checked out and patched up. 

Now, after 9 years of trouble free dog motherhood  I wasn't prepared for the ructions leaving said dog at the vet would cause. Not for the dog - no he was fine, he was quite excited to be left at a place that smelled of dogs. And not from me, the only part I was worried about was the bill. Nope, leaving Downtrodden Dog at the vet had a profound effect on.....

Captain Chaos:

(red face, snotty nose, tears, the whole shebang... that boy sure loves his Goggy!)

Which resulted in:

(I don't know why I'm crying, but the boy's crying so it MUST be serious!)

Unfortunately for Saint Michael, he was off work today. And the dog was going to be in the Vets for a couple of hours. And I had a pre planned engagement he'd promised to babysit for WEEKS ago.....

So I did what anyone in my situation would do - I got into my dress and heels, pacified the kids with ice blocks and boosted to the corporate lunch I had planned... Sorry Saint Mike! 

A couple of hours later I picked Dog up (still in my dress and heels) and he got to ride home in the front of the car - so he was happy again! One tetanus shot, one penicillin shot, 2 days hard core antibiotics and 6 days of regular antibiotics and $120 later, Downtrodden dog is home. He doesn't even have a bootie on his foot or a satellite dish around his head. And he's sleeping under the computer desk right now, even though he's supposedly an outside dog. 

Dog better watch out though... Captain Chaos has already asked if he can take the dog back to the vet so he can have an ice block tomorrow.....

And I guarantee this won't be enough to stop him digging holes in my lawn either.

No need for profanity.....

So, a little while ago the kids were playing in the lounge, and things had obviously been going too well for too long, because a sudden wailing from Mrs Mischief alerted me to the fact that I should tear my lazy arse away from the computer for a moment and do some honest to god parenting.

So I put on my Mum face, and stomped into the lounge room to re stake my place as top dog of the family. I could see straight away what had happened - The baby was wailing on the floor, and Captain Chaos was standing over her, her beloved purple pony in his hand. She had obviously slighted him by playing quietly on the floor with her OWN toy, and he wasn't going to let the attention be removed from him for a second.

Me: 'Oi! What's going on! Why is she crying!? Give her that back!'
Him 'NO! I WANT THIS PONY!'
Me 'No, it's hers, give it back now, or you can go and stand in the laundry until you're ready to share!'
Him: 'NO! I WANT THIS PONY!'
Me: 'It's hers, stop being a bully, give it back RIGHT NOW or go to the laundry!'
Him: 'NO I NOT. I NOT. I WANT THIS PO - NEEEEE!!!!!'
Me: 'Get to the laundry right now!'

and then it happened.....

(yes he is in his underwear.... don't ask.....)

Whoa - the F bomb!

I'm not entirely surprised, god knows I swear like a sailor, but for a kid who spent nearly 3 years saying NOTHING its a big shock when they call you a fuck. I wasn't sure how to react...

A - Ignore so he doesn't realise it's a 'forbidden word'?

B - Punish on top of the toy snatching punishment, so he's doubly punished?

C - Call him a much more effective array of swears and blow his mind?

I went with open D - Confuse the hell out of him.

'Fuck is a verb! NOT a noun! Sometimes an adjective, but not a noun, sort your grammar out and GET TO THE LAUNDRY!'

He was VERY confused. And promptly tootled off to the laundry for snatching toys off the baby.

That'll teach him.

So who the hell are you anyway?

Stand by for Domestic Awesomeness.....



The ring leader:

Captain Chaos

He's redirecting trains in this photo. Because causing destruction is how he rolls. And he also thought he'd be able to redirect them to our house. Because that's TOTALLY what we need... a stinking great diesel loco and a 50 furious passengers parked on my driveway.

He's 3 and knows EVERYTHING. He plays ukulele like boss, spends most of his time pants-less, he has an imaginary friend called Douchey, and wants a spider in a jar for Christmas.


The loyal sidekick

Mrs Mischief

10 kg of wild bundled into an angelic exterior.
Surprisingly mobile for someone who can't walk, and could figure out how to open cupboards and containers faster than I figured out how to baby proof my house.

Mrs Michief lives by the Toddlers Code, and her life mantra is 'Sleep is for Chumps!'



The long suffering husband

Saint Michael the Enabler

Saint Michael (like most saints) is surprisingly hard to take photo's of.  We met as teenagers and have been together for the better part of ten years now. He a great guy, and probably totally out of my league if I'm honest, but mwahahaha I've trapped him now! Try and escape a 30 year mortgage contract my screwed friend!

Saint Michael is great. One time, he was giving me a lecture about how smoking was going to make me shrivel up and die, and I'd probably get dysentery as well, and no one would want to be my friend, and in the same breath asked me what my brand was so he could get a carton the next time he went through Duty Free. Love that man!


The Rolling Pin Wielder

Muuuuuummmmm!! 

Mum!

Mummy!

Mum!

Mum!

Cath!  

I know, I know.... Gentlemen and rich and famous rock stars, please form an orderly queue!

I'm the unfortunate wench who bred these devil children.
I'm by no means a perfect parent, but I'm as perfect as they're gonna get!
(Unless I actually DO die from smoking related dysentery... and Saint Michael marries some gorgeously hot but remarkably understanding and patient blonde... then I'll be a distant number 2.... and I'll also haunt his arse).



Supporting roles to this Chaos:

 Downtrodden Dog

Hey, you'd be down trodden too if you were prematurely gray after being usurped from you place as 'baby' of the family by a pair of biped, slow moving, crumb smelling skin babies

Cheezel the Brave

Damn this little dude has got a big attitude for someone with all the personality of a dog food sausage. The only creature who has so far managed NOT to be bitten my Mrs Mischief.

The Enforcer

Don't be fooled by the pretty colouring, Jingles is a BAD ASS who home invaded us and commandeered our laundry, stealing food and having babies in our laundry basket until we just gave up and bought her a cat door to stop her breaking into our house at night. We're all just a little bit scared of Jingles. She's Bad Ass.

Beware innocuous green food substances

I was surprisingly old when I was first introduced to Sushi.

Well, probably not that old, but when you're living in latte and designer finger food laden Auckland, it was unusual for me to be 25 before I'd ever been given the change to indulge in this culinary delight. Mainly because I was frightened of the idea of raw fish. I was too stoopid to realise that teriyaki chicken sushi is NOT raw, and that it would become my obsession du jour not long after my 25th birthday, when I braved the sushi platter while moderately drunk at my ex bosses 40th birthday party.

After spending a couple of years forcing sushi in at the rate of a minke whale trying to stick on the the Japanese, my husband and I moved to the South Island, to ethnic food free Palmerston.

It became a rare treat to have sushi for lunch, necessitating a 100 km round trip to Dunedin to get some. It was after one of these trips that the 3 year old decided he wanted to sabotage my gastric glee, and make a couple of honest attempts at stealing my lunch. Now don't get me wrong, OF COURSE I'd already fed the boy (a Happy Meal... combat against obesity win!)  and anyone who knows me knows I DO NOT share food. Ever. I have a figure to maintain here!

After a couple of thwarted attempts the little shit got cunning, and slunk into his sisters room and woke her up, where she'd been blissfully dozing in a 'YES I'M A BOY!' onesie left over in the nappy bag from when her brother was little. I wandered down the hall way to settle her, blissfully unaware that the sushi thief was formulating a plan. The sound of mini satan's cloven hooves appeared behind me, along with a gleeful cry of
"Haha! My stole your lunch!"
Before fleeing back through the house.

I turned to face him just in time to see him jam something into his smirking face, and huffed at the realisation that the last piece of my coveted sushi was gone.

But hold up.....
That thing he put in his mouth....
It was..... Green.....

Gears turned in my head and a smirk crept across my face as I realised.....

Yeah Camo - that thing you just pinched? it was Wasabi.... ENJOY!

I mentally high fived myself at the idea of teaching him a lesson, just like in 'The Lighthouse Keepers Lunch'. My smirk was short lived though.

He soon returned to the lounge room, eyes streaming, nose streaming, a godless drool hanging out the side of his mouth, his face a luminous red. He sat down and continued to watch the Imagination Movers. Eventually I had to ask 'So was that tasty?'

He didn't even look at me when he answered. : 'Yep. Tastes spicy.'

I couldn't believe it. This is a kid who won't eat Tomato Sauce because the flavour is too hardcore.

Touché little lunch thief, Touché.

I have a lot of Adventures

What can I say... I'm a complicated girl!

I can whole heartedly say that these stories are all true, with names changed to protect the guilty parties.

I take a lot of inspiration from the wonderful Hyperbole and a Half and Parenting illustrated with Crappy Pictures

But unlike them I have NO artistic talents, so you'll have to put up with my ramblings and occasional attempts on MS paint, but with a mouse cos I'm too cheap (read that as tech-tarded) to buy a tablet computer, k?

Also, I swear.... a lot.... if cuss words, or discussions of pee, poo and other such delights are too much, back away now.... you've been warned.