Thursday, June 30th, 2011
You know those stories where a guy hangs out with a girl and they really hit it off and they go their separate ways and the next day, he goes to her house and a lady answers, and she’s all, “My daughter’s been dead for teeeen yeeeeaaars?” (You have to read that line in the Joey Tribiani inflection.)
Well, I had a serious moment reminiscent of those stories yesterday – I felt that exact same creepy, tingly feeling that you probably felt the first time you heard one of any of a million variations on that story. I was in the bathroom digging through the massive pile of laundry we like to throw on the floor until we can barely open and close the door in our wee water closet. I can’t remember what I was looking for (oh, wait, yes I can – my VolunTEEN t-shirt, which I have had for a long time, like many of my t-shirts – so long, even, that when my sister was here a few weeks ago, she asked me, “How long have you had that shirt?” and I said, “A while, why?” and she said, “Because I remember you wearing it. IN HIGH SCHOOL.”)
Ok, so I do remember what I was looking for, but I didn’t find it. I did notice one of my pairs of jeans laying there, though. Then I went to the laundry room to look in the dryer for my shirt. I didn’t take any of the clothes from the bathroom to the laundry room. That’s not part of the story, I’m just trying to give you an open and accurate depiction of my life, because I figure the more background information you have about ME, the more interesting and lifelike and vivid my stories might be, and let’s face it, they need all the help they can get.
So, there you have it – I’m a person with a shit ton of laundry on the bathroom floor, which is a bad place to keep your laundry, especially if you’re the type that one, likes to wear the same jeans more than once before washing; and/or two, leaves the house so rarely and so briefly that shirts also merit rewearing as it’s hard to get especially dirty on a trip through the Sonic drive thru for a Route 44 Diet Sprite with cranberry and pineapple; AND you have a husband who puts his BIG WET FEET on the clothes you totally intended to wear again. That you were keeping on the bathroom floor until such time. How dare he.
I went to the laundry room, without any of that laundry, to look for the shirt I wanted in the dryer. As I was rummaging through the dryer (because of course I intended to only pull out exactly what I wanted to wear and leave the rest, because emptying the dryer would open the door for things like sorting and folding, which, actually, I don’t ever do – can I refer you back to “If you give a shit, it’s your job?” – so I guess I just didn’t want to carry it all back to the bedroom to fling on the floor in the corner), I did find my shirt, but also? I saw the SAME JEANS that I had seen on the bathroom floor. And I got that FEELING. The “my daughter’s been dead for teeeeeen yeeeeaaars” feeling.
I know what you’re thinking, come on, it’s jeans and my house isn’t haunted, but it’s not like I consciously stood there, half in and half out of the dryer, thinking, “OH SHIT, MY HOUSE IS INFESTED WITH DENIM GHOSTS!” It was just a FEELING that happened really quickly. I didn’t give it any deep thought or anything. I felt it and it was fleeting and then I was like, “heh.” Because it was kind of funny, to have and be able to name THAT EXACT FEELING, except in relation to your pants.
“But those jeans have been on the bathroom floor for teeeen daaaays!”
*****
I live on a military base, and every once in a while, there are various exercises for preparedness for various situations and whatnots that could happen. The first time one of these exercises took place while we live here, Phil didn’t think to warn me, and I was taken by surprise by the Giant Voice. Instructions and warnings and information are all bellowed out over a loudspeaker that booms over the whole base, and if you’re not prepared for it, you may think someone is in your backyard, about to bust into your house, and panic about getting murdered and the fact that you don’t have a bra on, but in opposite order.
I’ve gotten a bit more used to the Giant Voice, partially because I suppose one just becomes used to Giant Voices and also because both Phil and signs around the base sometimes warn me that they’re going to happen. Today happens to be a Giant Voice day, and while I usually just ignore it anymore, it is making Sheldon INSANE. So, I let him outside to fulfill his need to protect us all from the invisible shouting men and women in the yard and checked in with Phil.
Me: What’s up with the Giant Voice?
Phil: Weather exercise. A tornado is killing us all right now.
Sheldon, ignoring the obvious imminent danger and refusing to take cover in direct defiance of the Giant Voice.
*****
I have said to a couple of people that while I do really like my kid, I don’t care for this phase at all. I don’t think I’ll ever look back on early babyhood and miss it. It’s not just the crying and the night feeding and all of that. I’m just not really especially into babies, as a group. To me, this phase is just a trial to get through and would NOT be something I would look forward to if there was ever to be a second child. In fact, it could very well be a major factor in PREVENTING a second child from ever, ever, EVER happening.
What I’m really looking forward to is toddlerhood. When she’s walking and talking and doing things and being interesting and having conversations and expressing her needs in words and all of that.
The thing is, though, whenever I say that – that I don’t really enjoy this early babyhood and am really looking forward to having a toddler – there is ALWAYS SOMEONE who pipes up with, “Oh, ho ho, JUST WAIT. Having a toddler is hard, TOO, you know.”
You know what? Crossword puzzles and sudoku can both be really hard, but I still like one WAY MORE than I like the other.
I know I’ve talked about this before, but what IS IT with people and needed to tell or remind other people that misery upon misery is still coming? Even when I express that I am LOOKING FORWARD to something, someone needs to tell me how foolish I am, BECAUSE IT WILL BE TERRIBLE. Why, WHY do people need to make sure that other people know that nothing good is ever going to happen again? Even the things you thought would be good will be awful, and even things that you KNOW will be good, nope, you’re wrong, everything is WOE AND GNASHING AND RENDING.
And then? The worst part? People who tell you, “actually, it’s terrible!” sometimes do that thing where they pretend to duck and cover, or indicate, IN TEXT FORM, that they’re pretending to adopt a “don’t hit me” stance, as if they assume they’re delivering information that will make you angry. Except one, they’re never saying anything you don’t know, even if it isn’t applicable and two, why are you even saying something to someone that you even jokingly think would make them angry enough to take a swing at you? Because, come on. Shut up.
Posted in Brinkley + Sheldon, daily BS | 38 Comments »
Tuesday, March 15th, 2011
There’s this attitude I’ve noticed, on forums and stuff, towards first time parents who also have dogs. Thankfully, as I imagine at least fully two-thirds of the people who read this blog only do so because they are card carrying members of the Brinkley and Sheldon Fan Club, I haven’t run into it on this blog much at all, though I haven’t been completely free of it.
The best way to put it, I guess, is that there’s a certain kind of people that assume that dog owners who are expecting a baby – especially first time parents, especially especially first time parents who own more than one dog, especially especially especially first time parents who own big dogs – that now that the baby is coming, they are done with their dogs.
This opinion in general seems to actually house a range of smaller opinions, from the mild to the much more extreme.
The most mild, I think, is one that must come from non-dog owners. Or, if they are dog owners, they’re not necessarily dog people. They say something like, “Well, once that baby gets here, those dogs won’t matter as much!,” or “You think you love your dogs, but wait until you have a baby. Then you’ll understand what love is,” or things like that. I think my mom was this type of person. We never had pets growing up, really, so becoming attached to an animal in the way that people are attached to their dogs was kind of foreign to her.
Anyway, these lines aren’t terrible, but I can’t help but feel that they’re a bit misinformed, or at least assume that I’m misinformed about what happens after a baby. In my mind, there’s just no way those lines could come from actual dog people, even if they do come from people who don’t hate dogs, or at least mean well.
I’m not completely idealistic – not any more than any other first time mom, anyway – and I know that adding a baby to the mix divides an already limited supply of attention even further, leaving less for the dogs. On top of that, a baby is helpless while the dogs are largely self-sufficient. It just makes sense that less attention will be paid to the dogs, simply because I don’t have a damn attention tree in the backyard from which to replenish my supply on the regular. The baby needs us more than the dogs do.
However, to insinuate that the dogs suddenly won’t matter to us, or, more strangely, that once the baby arrives we’ll realize that we never actually loved the dogs AT ALL, is kind of irritating. Of course the dogs will still matter to us. Having less attention to go around doesn’t mean that they don’t matter. And it’s just laughable to me that the appearance of a Garlic Bread on the scene will make us realized WE NEVER LOVED OUR DOGS AT ALL. I don’t think anyone who really knew us, specifically, would say that, though I know it’s been suggested and said to other people. Don’t worry, I’m not about to give anyone a reason to self-righteously huff over to the comments and tell me off for equating babies and dogs – I realize we will feel differently towards the baby than we do towards the dogs. But the addition of a baby won’t change the way we feel towards them IN ORDER THAT we can instead love the baby.
Geeze. I have the emotional depth of the dregs of a Slurpee, and even I understand that feelings for the baby do not replace feelings for the dogs.
A little farther down the spectrum is the more broad question, “So, what are you going to do with the dogs when the baby gets here?”
The answer to that, of course, is, well… nothing. I mean, they live here.
But people who ask that question generally mean stuff like, when are we going to turn them into outside dogs? Or, more strangely, who we’re going to give the dogs to once we have a baby? Or stuff like that. Basically, what are we going to do about this DOG SITUATION, now that there’s a much more important baby on the way?
Dogs are not practice children or placeholders for children. Some people do have animals because they choose not to have children, or because they can’t have children, but they’re not temporary stand ins. People do not (well, of course they do, but they SHOULD NOT) obtain dogs in order to live out their child-having needs UNTIL such time as an actual child comes along.
We got me all stuffed up with baby KNOWING FULL WELL that we already owned two dogs. We don’t need it pointed out to us that we own two dogs. It’s not a puzzle to figure out just what in the WORLD we will do now that a baby is coming but the house already has two dogs!!
They live here. End of story.
I realize not everyone is like us. Craigslist is full of “We had a baby, and now can’t give our dog the time he deserves” postings. It’s terrible when this happens to adult dogs who have spent their whole lives with one family. It’s infuriating when this happens with a puppy. “We just had a baby and we need someone to take our four month old puppy.” Seriously? Those people are assholes. No exceptions.
NO exceptions.
And I know you’re tempted to find an exception right now, and to do that, you want to put in all kinds of extenuating circumstances and say, “Well, what if…,” or, “Well, my family had to because of…,” and I’m telling you, just say it in your head, because anyone who gets rid of an animal they voluntarily obtained SPECIFICALLY BECAUSE a baby has arrived and they no longer have “time” for the dog is an asshole. No exceptions.
The farthest and most extreme end of the spectrum is, to me, the most grating. The “you’ll love your dog less” people are just kind of well meaning but misinformed. The “what are you going to do with your dogs” people are irritating, but more in an eye rolly kind of way. These last people just piss me off.
The “I can’t believe you’re going to have a BABY around your DOGS” people.
You know where you find these a lot? YouTube. They ruin all the best videos of babies playing with dogs.
“ARE U STOOPID LETTING YOUR BABY AROUND A DOG?”
I would type out more examples of YouTube comments, but I can’t bring myself to demonstrate any more instances of caps combined with poor spelling and grammar, it would give me hives.
Anyway, it’s not just YouTube. People in general, some people, think it is ABSOLUTELY INSANE to have babies and dogs in the same location. Now, I think a reasonable person realizes that there are normal people – me and Phil – and then there are idiots. Idiots are the type of people who you should worry about. Not normal people like Phil and I.
Seriously? SERIOUSLY? Do you really think that if we thought FOR A SECOND that our dogs posed a danger to our baby, that something wouldn’t be done? The fact alone that they are DOGS does not automatically make them a baby hazard. Sure, I mean, if you consider excessive lickery to be hazardous, they certainly are, but come on. If we had even the SLIGHTEST CONCERN that one of our dogs would rear up, steal the baby, and take off one of her loafy limbs, the situation would be handled.
To insinuate that we’re idiots or insane or borderline child abusers for housing all of our dependent creatures together is just rude. And we don’t need to be told that dogs and children shouldn’t be left alone together. Non-idiots know that. Not even Brinkley, Brinkley who would not hurt a fly because though he has tried and TRIED, he is actually not physically capable of fly injury, would never be left unsupervised with the baby.
Remember how I told you I have nice dogs, but it’s not my job to have nice dogs? Even knowing our dogs so well, we treat them the same way that YOU should treat any dogs – like animals. Both of our dogs are handsome and charming and kind of smelly and also ANIMALS. We are fully aware that our very loving, JUST WANT TO BE CLOSE TO YOU FOR TO LICK AND LICK AN LICK dogs could, at ANY moment, snap or growl or bite or attack us. We have no reason to believe they will, but I think a responsible owner of any kind of animal is aware of the general animally nature of their pet.
Come on, now, and give us some credit. Save that line for the idiots who shouldn’t own a dog in the first place, anyway. Do any of you really think that we (okay, specifically me) are SO into our dogs that we would ignore any danger posed to the baby by the dogs?
You can’t see it, but I totally have my nose in the air at you right now.
Anyway, like I said, I don’t get a lot of that from this blog. I think that the people who read here on the regular know that we have a good handle on our dogs and a general dog people approach towards dogs and babies. I don’t think anyone here is truly worried about the meshing of dog and baby, and I would hope no one here is going to get all condescending about how actually, I really WILL feel totally different about my dogs but it’s okay that I don’t understand that, since I don’t have a baby yet, thus all the wonders and mysteries of the world have not been opened to me, aren’t I cute.
I also want to note that not once through this whole entry about dogs and kids did I say anything about how having dogs has prepared us for having children, or make any comparisons between dogs and children, because I know how that gets some of you uptight types all riled up because HOW DARE I?
Posted in Brinkley + Sheldon, Unidentified Fetal O | 51 Comments »
