Five Minutes
Yesterday started as a regular day. After a morning appointment, I came home where Arianna and I had lunch and showers. Then we went to Target to get a few things for our upcoming trip to DisneyWorld. We came home, put away our purchases, and had a snack.
A few hours later our peaceful day turned into quite a comical yet stressful example of what being a Mommy entails.
Since we had had a late snack, we were having a late dinner. Since I didn't need to cook yet, I busied myself by going through the fridge and throwing out a few things that were turning into penicillin. One of which was an old container with three "nuclear atomic" chicken wings inside. I threw them in the garbage. A few minutes later, I left the room and had a quick tickle fight with Arianna.
A little while later, I went into the kitchen where I saw the nuclear atomic chicken wing container on the floor empty. The suspect stared at me from the doorway.
Now, eating these super hot wings couldn't possibly have been enjoyable for my dog Sasha, a German Shepherd. But what happened next had to be terrible for her.
I had to give Sasha two tablespoons of peroxide so that she would throw them up. (Some of you may be asking why. Well bones can get stuck at any point through their digestive tracks. They also may have sharp points that could pierce their insides, which could potentially be fatal.) Unfortunately for Sasha I grabbed a teaspoon instead of a tablespoon, so I had to administer six teaspoons to her. She hated it, but she's such a good sport she just sat there and let me pour each spoonful down her throat.
Twenty minutes later, she still hadn't thrown up so I had to give her another tablespoon.
In the meantime, Arianna was ready for a late dinner. Since I hadn't prepared anything and was now dealing with the dog situation, I put some soup on the stovetop for her. I asked Marc to serve it to her when the timer went off, and I went back outside with Sasha.
Several minutes later I had given up hope that she would puke. And I really needed to poop. So we went back inside just as the soup timer was going off.
And here's where things got crazy.
On my way to the bathroom, I had to walk past Arianna who was saying "Daddy, I'm hungry. I want my soup." On repeat. And Marc who kept asking me "The spoon with the holes? Which one is that? I can't find it."
Only a few feet to go to the bathroom, Sasha runs past me and throws up on top of Barbie's accessories. Then she goes over and throws up underneath Arianna's dinner chair. I hear Marc dry heaving from the kitchen.
So now I can't go to the bathroom until I clean up the puke because Marc won't be able to do it, and Arianna can't eat until I do.
As I'm cleaning up the foamy, goopy, vomit Arianna is observing me and trying to understand it all. "Why did Sasha eat those chicken wings? Why does Sasha eat out of the garbage?"
When I went over to clean the puke on top of the Barbie accessories, Arianna followed me and was clearly upset. "Barbies blanket!! Look at my mad eyebrows. How will Barbie sleep without her blanket? Aww not Barbie's hanger! Barbies computer!!! Look at my face - it's a mad face. A pink shoe! Oh no, that was Barbie's favorite." So in addition to cleaning up the disgusting throw up, I had to reassure my daughter that Barbie's accessories could be replaced, all while trying my hardest not to laugh. And mind you, I still really had to go to the bathroom.
The craziness lasted only five minutes and then everything went back to normal. Sasha laid down and was fine for the rest of the night. Arianna sat at her table and Marc served her the soup. I went to the bathroom. It's these moments that make people say "I don't know how you do it." But I just do it, and I try to see the humor in it. I try to enjoy the craziness. Because one day I'll be an old dull woman and I'll miss moments like this.
Oh and by the way, Sasha threw up three chicken wings - unchewed - so we were successful.
Here's the texts I sent out immediately after it happened....
A few hours later our peaceful day turned into quite a comical yet stressful example of what being a Mommy entails.
Since we had had a late snack, we were having a late dinner. Since I didn't need to cook yet, I busied myself by going through the fridge and throwing out a few things that were turning into penicillin. One of which was an old container with three "nuclear atomic" chicken wings inside. I threw them in the garbage. A few minutes later, I left the room and had a quick tickle fight with Arianna.
A little while later, I went into the kitchen where I saw the nuclear atomic chicken wing container on the floor empty. The suspect stared at me from the doorway.
Now, eating these super hot wings couldn't possibly have been enjoyable for my dog Sasha, a German Shepherd. But what happened next had to be terrible for her.
I had to give Sasha two tablespoons of peroxide so that she would throw them up. (Some of you may be asking why. Well bones can get stuck at any point through their digestive tracks. They also may have sharp points that could pierce their insides, which could potentially be fatal.) Unfortunately for Sasha I grabbed a teaspoon instead of a tablespoon, so I had to administer six teaspoons to her. She hated it, but she's such a good sport she just sat there and let me pour each spoonful down her throat.
Twenty minutes later, she still hadn't thrown up so I had to give her another tablespoon.
In the meantime, Arianna was ready for a late dinner. Since I hadn't prepared anything and was now dealing with the dog situation, I put some soup on the stovetop for her. I asked Marc to serve it to her when the timer went off, and I went back outside with Sasha.
Several minutes later I had given up hope that she would puke. And I really needed to poop. So we went back inside just as the soup timer was going off.
And here's where things got crazy.
On my way to the bathroom, I had to walk past Arianna who was saying "Daddy, I'm hungry. I want my soup." On repeat. And Marc who kept asking me "The spoon with the holes? Which one is that? I can't find it."
Only a few feet to go to the bathroom, Sasha runs past me and throws up on top of Barbie's accessories. Then she goes over and throws up underneath Arianna's dinner chair. I hear Marc dry heaving from the kitchen.
So now I can't go to the bathroom until I clean up the puke because Marc won't be able to do it, and Arianna can't eat until I do.
As I'm cleaning up the foamy, goopy, vomit Arianna is observing me and trying to understand it all. "Why did Sasha eat those chicken wings? Why does Sasha eat out of the garbage?"
When I went over to clean the puke on top of the Barbie accessories, Arianna followed me and was clearly upset. "Barbies blanket!! Look at my mad eyebrows. How will Barbie sleep without her blanket? Aww not Barbie's hanger! Barbies computer!!! Look at my face - it's a mad face. A pink shoe! Oh no, that was Barbie's favorite." So in addition to cleaning up the disgusting throw up, I had to reassure my daughter that Barbie's accessories could be replaced, all while trying my hardest not to laugh. And mind you, I still really had to go to the bathroom.
The craziness lasted only five minutes and then everything went back to normal. Sasha laid down and was fine for the rest of the night. Arianna sat at her table and Marc served her the soup. I went to the bathroom. It's these moments that make people say "I don't know how you do it." But I just do it, and I try to see the humor in it. I try to enjoy the craziness. Because one day I'll be an old dull woman and I'll miss moments like this.
Oh and by the way, Sasha threw up three chicken wings - unchewed - so we were successful.
Here's the texts I sent out immediately after it happened....
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