Babies are like dogs (but dogs aren't like babies)

I have now been a parent for almost 10 months (10 MONTHS WHY GOD WHYYYY), and while I am still relatively new to the child-raising game, I have garnered a lot of wisdom in my short tenure. For example, don't get attached to your baby's socks. The cuter they are, the faster they disappear in the Great Sock Void, where socks are drawn in by a guy selling candy and are never seen again. Another fun fact is that toots are deceptive. What you are smelling is probably just a toot, but since you have to make sure and unbutton those stupid PJs, look in the diaper, and stop your baby from wriggling out of his pajamas so he can finally be free like he's always wanted, it winds up being just as much work as if the smell was actually poop.

But the most startling discovery, the most shocking, wild, unexpected bit of information I have learned this year is this: Babies and dogs have a lot in common. 

Let me clarify: Owning a dog does not equal raising a baby. I know that your precious Fifi is a lot of work and the other night you had to stay up with her because she was sick and it was very sad and that you might think it's the same as having a baby. Stop that. Dogs are a lot of work, but at least they take their poop outside (most of the time). And dogs become self-entertaining - that tail is easy to chase pretty early on. But, in spite of the many difference, there are also a lot of similarities. Maybe the better way to say it is that I approach raising my child much like the way I approach owning a dog. Wait. That doesn't sound right. Just keep reading. 

This is my dog: 

Ignore the terrifying eyes. He isn't a robot. 

This is my baby:

Cute, right?? I know. 

At first glance, you might wonder what these two have in common, besides the fact that in each picture they are drooling on something. But while you're looking for the drool in both of these pictures, consider the following list of things I say to my dog and my child on a daily basis:

- "What is in your mouth??"

- "Don't lick that."

- "There is no need to make that noise."

- "Tell me what you want... you're looking toward the kitchen... food? Is it food? It's food!!!"

- "Is this dirt or poop?" (It's poop. It's always poop.)

- "This <insert gross thing> sounds like a job for Daddy... Oh, Daniel!!"

So you can see that the similarities are already building. Both my dog and child would like to chew on every electrical cord available. They enjoy rolling things into small, hard to reach places and then they enjoy crying until I find a way to reach it. They both want something that is totally, completely unreasonable all of the time: The dog would like to be a lap dog and curl up on us in spite of the fact that he is fifty pounds. The baby would like to both turn his head away from his bottle and drink from his bottle at the same time. They both have a knack for ignoring the safe, happy toys right in front of them and instead presenting me with random pieces of trash, in spite of the fact that I just vacuumed and picked up all trash in sight. 

And my baby can't even crawl yet. I have a feeling it's only going to get worse. 

So, other moms - tell me, am I right? Do my infant and my pooch bear a resemblance to each other? Or am I just a really terrible person who compares her sweet baby to her dog?

And Then There Was Limb

Yesterday at approximately 8:40 pm I stumbled upon a scene that led me into the seedy world of arborists and foliage. I was outside, innocently waiting for my dog to finish conducting business with the lawn, when I stumbled upon this horrific sight. Be warned - this image is not for the faint of heart.

That, my pretties, is a tree limb. I know. I am still getting over the shock. It was laying on our fence, gasping for life, hanging on to the threads of leafy goodness. We did what we could, but it was too late. 

But Leroy the Limb will get justice. My crack team and I have done some initial research into this issue and have put together a list of likely suspects:

Suspect #1: The Neighbor's Tree

Ah, yes. A tree of unknown background, swaying carelessly in the wind. Is its carelessness due to its innocence? Or is it because it knows we'll never get enough evidence to prove its guilt? There is a broken off limb on this tree, but it is conveniently too high to investigate at this time. Well-played, tree. Well-played.

Suspect #2: Our Tree

A tree of three trunks, this particular tree already has some scars from previous incidents. It sits with arrogance, daring someone to cut it down - what does it care; it has two extra trunks. The perfect candidate to cover up a heinous crime.

Suspect #3: Michigan

Like this one needs any more explanation. 

So, who was it? The Neighbor's Tree with the missing limb? Our Tree, with its arrogant extra trunks and bad attitude? Our dog, who generally causes destruction everywhere he goes?

Stay tuned as we delve deep into the world of trees, plants, and justice.  

The Cat Diaries

Based on my cat's behavior the last few months with us, this is how I picture his diary (and don't even tell me he doesn't have one; I SAW it underneath the litter box):

Day 1: 


There are a lot of strangers here. I'm now all alone because my mom got scared after hearing just one tiny gunshot. Honestly. I knew right then that this was the neighborhood for me. Plus I like scary apartments. I look more menacing here next to these tiny stairs. 


I'VE BEEN SPOTTED. One of the humans has began to... cuddle me. Ugh. Maybe she'll think I'm diseased and won't want me.


Day 30: 


I've been a prisoner for quite some time now. The human had a friend, and together they made me take a bath. A BATH. I have never been so humiliated. I shall attack their toilet paper as soon as they go to sleep. Yesss, yesss, you can run, toilet paper, but you can't hide. Muahahahaaaaa.


Day 120:


This isn't working. The humans insist on taking pictures of me and putting them on the Facebook. I tried throwing up on their carpet. That angered them for a minute but then we were back to cuddling as if nothing had ever happened. I have now destroyed twelve rolls of toilet paper to no avail. I must think of another plan soon.


I'VE GOT IT. I will swallow something and make them take me to that insufferable vet - and when they open the door, I will ESCAPE! Muahaha - wait, what's this? They are tying some kind of string to me! They are putting me in a box! How will I ever escape now?? My plans have been foiled again.


Day 121: 


This is was a bad idea. My tummy hurts.


Day 150: 


Well, I survived the string ordeal. But now the humans have taken away all my favorite playthings - twisty ties, paper clips, and worst of all, the ponytail holders. Oh, how I miss you, ponytail holders. They even found my secret stash. But I am strong. I will prevail.


Day 151:


An Ode to Ponytail Holders


Oh, holders of the ponytail
How I love you so.
You are so stretchy
And yet
Soft.
I long for you like a cat longs for catnip.
And hope that someday
We may be together
Again.


Day 180:


The humans have relocated me. At first I thought this was my chance to escape once again, but, alas, no. They are trying to trick me into complacency by giving me my own room to play in and a really cool snake to chase... must... not... be... distracted... by... the... sn


Day 195


THEY GOT A DOG.


Day 196:


IT WANTS TO EAT ME.


Day 215:


VICTORY!!!!! I have finally escaped this terrible place. Now I will go on to make great discoveries and take exciting journeys. I am free, as free as the wind on a cool summer's day. Goodbye, humans. Goodbye, dog.


Day 215:


They caught me. I give up.


Day 220:


They may be able to keep me here. But  I will not be denied. They want a cat? Fine - they've got one. Now I must go sharpen my claws to ensure maximum scratching potential. Let's see how they sleep with me jumping on them all night. MUAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Rain, rain... you confuse me

Southerners can't drive in the rain (Although the more people I meet from other places, the more I'm convinced that it's becoming a national issue at the very least.). But it isn't our fault. I was trying to explain this to my husband (who is from Michigan) when we were dating, but he just wasn't getting it. Then I realized why: Daniel moved here in 2009. AKA the Year of The Ahhh Ahhh Ahhh Run Away Floods. I told Daniel I had never seen so much rain in my life. He kind of believed me. Then it snowed the next February. Again, more snow than I had ever seen. Until the next December and January, where it proceeded to snow so much that any chance of me convincing Daniel that this never, ever happens was pretty much nil.

Today, as it rained like crazy and I found myself surrounded by several people unable to drive in the rain (much like myself), I started thinking about what an awesome blog post this would make why this is the case. And I think I've got the answer:

See, we were in a drought. For, like, 28 bajillion years. I don't have any actual stats on that but I'd say 28 bajillion is pretty close.  So when we see rain, it confuses us. What is this magical moisture falling from the sky? Is it an alien invasion? Are we supposed to worship it? WHAT DOES IT WANT??

And the snow? Forget about it. I have as much experience with snow as a camel does with the Great Lakes.  This is why all of the toilet paper, water, beer and milk disappears off the shelves - what if this time, the snow really does signify the end of the world? Best to always be prepared, don't you think?

But when it rained and snowed so much these last few years, we entered this other world, this Narnia-like place where rainbows beckon you with Skittles and unicorns offer you new cars. It took us to a magical place where we suddenly understood how the world worked. And it was glorious. Alas, it was short-lived. We thought we were weather-whisperers, conquerors of all things inclement. But we weren't. Not even close. And now we find ourselves back where we started, confused and frightened by this unusual liquid falling from above. Wow - that was pretty poetic. No one steal that.

So. Rain. What the heck, right?

"Please, I'll do whatever you ask. Just leave my family alone."