Losing It
My husband is at a conference all week so it’s just me and the animals. The problem with this is that I have one very hyper puppy who is in his crate all day (I do let him out at lunch time) and then a complete spaz when I get home. Last night was not too bad, but those of you who have ever had a puppy will know that you really don’t have time for much else other than the dog. I have gotten used to eating my dinner over the sink, this usually consists of a can of green beans followed by a can of salmon. Yesterday was day 3 of not washing my hair because I have NO TIME in the morning and definitely none at night. The house is a complete disaster. I get a few moments here and there and try to tidy up but it never amounts to anything. I refuse to crate Charlie after he’s been crated all day. By the time I get home from work, we go for our two hour walk (believe me he could go for longer), I get us both some dinner and settle him down it’s close to 8pm. Then I usually give him a chewie thing so I can do a load of laundry or whatever.
I’m loading the dishwasher in the kitchen and cursing the fact that I neglected to buy more detergent and now cannot run the frigging dishwasher, when I decide to peak around the corner to see what Charlie is up to and I am just in time to see him swallow a sock. Whole. WTF!?!?!?
I race over to him to pry open his mouth and jam my fingers in there but to no avail – the sock is gone. So I start freaking out while he is happily wagging his tail and thinking the whole thing is just great. I decide to call my husband, figuring that he might know what to do. He answers his cell phone and I can barely hear him. I ask him where he is and he tells me he is at a bar and heading out to dinner with the guys. Bit of a background: It’s a firefighter convention, so you can imagine what goes on there. Obviously there is some partying going on. I feel rage. He’s off drinking and whooping it up and here I am ONCE AGAIN dealing with everything (barely).
He tells me that the dog will barf it up or poop it out and there is nothing I can do. He has to get off the phone because the guys are leaving for dinner. I am now in tears. I feel like a bad mother.
I called the emergency vet clinic and they tell me that labs have a bad habit of doing things like this and that he will most likely be fine. I am supposed to monitor him and make sure he is pooping. I felt sooo guilty this morning when I left the house. I can’t stop worrying about him now.
After all this, I feel like I am losing my grip. I hate coming home to a messy house, with no one there to help me, with animals all over the place and a million things to do and no time to take care of myself. I just want to go to Shoppers Drug Mart, buy a bunch of magazines, have a bath and eat chips and read all night.
Oh yeah, and the period started today. Cramp city. Perfect.
I’m loading the dishwasher in the kitchen and cursing the fact that I neglected to buy more detergent and now cannot run the frigging dishwasher, when I decide to peak around the corner to see what Charlie is up to and I am just in time to see him swallow a sock. Whole. WTF!?!?!?
I race over to him to pry open his mouth and jam my fingers in there but to no avail – the sock is gone. So I start freaking out while he is happily wagging his tail and thinking the whole thing is just great. I decide to call my husband, figuring that he might know what to do. He answers his cell phone and I can barely hear him. I ask him where he is and he tells me he is at a bar and heading out to dinner with the guys. Bit of a background: It’s a firefighter convention, so you can imagine what goes on there. Obviously there is some partying going on. I feel rage. He’s off drinking and whooping it up and here I am ONCE AGAIN dealing with everything (barely).
He tells me that the dog will barf it up or poop it out and there is nothing I can do. He has to get off the phone because the guys are leaving for dinner. I am now in tears. I feel like a bad mother.
I called the emergency vet clinic and they tell me that labs have a bad habit of doing things like this and that he will most likely be fine. I am supposed to monitor him and make sure he is pooping. I felt sooo guilty this morning when I left the house. I can’t stop worrying about him now.
After all this, I feel like I am losing my grip. I hate coming home to a messy house, with no one there to help me, with animals all over the place and a million things to do and no time to take care of myself. I just want to go to Shoppers Drug Mart, buy a bunch of magazines, have a bath and eat chips and read all night.
Oh yeah, and the period started today. Cramp city. Perfect.
posted by vegan mum at 8:43 AM
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