Today I get to take the dog to the vet, something I’ve been seriously dreading because a) he is impossible to control in the presence of other dogs b) it always costs an arm and a leg and c) he has fleas. Now I HAVE to take him to the vet to get some of the real fancy flea medicine instead of the stuff they sell at the pet store and get a speech from the vet about how if I had been keeping up the regimen monthly the way you’re supposed to he wouldn’t have fleas at all. Thank you, yes, I know. I am sufficiently contrite over my lack of good pet care. Fleas are one of those things you forget the awfulness of when you haven’t had to deal with them in years and years. And then suddenly you notice the cat keeps scratching her neck and within hours you can feel them crawling ALL OVER YOUR BODY ALL THE TIME. BECAUSE THEY ARE.

And then you find a flea on the baby’s head and you are the worst mother in the whole world.

So I’m taking the uncontrollable dog to the vet to spend an arm and a leg and get the speech and buy buckets and buckets of Frontline or whatever it is that actually kills these damn creepy crawlies. The dog and the cat version. Then we’re all going to the aquarium for a few hours while we bug bomb the house, floor by floor. Because if we don’t do something soon the cat won’t be the only one scratching her skin off in an attempt to feel less itchy. EW.

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In less disgusting (but probably incredibly boring) news, we drove up to USA Baby yesterday to actually try out the Uppababy before buying it and…um…I don’t think I want it anymore. The rumble seat is not the magical solution to all our double-stroller issues. The whole reason I NEED a double is for Stroller Strides and/or sightseeing type trips to the zoo or aquarium or city and the rumble seat of the the Uppa only faces in. Not great for, you know, seeing stuff or keeping a toddler entertained during mommy’s workout. I think if I was buying a stroller for our first baby that had the ability to work for a 2nd (or 3rd) baby I would be totally sold but after actually putting my toddler in it and imagining how it would work with an infant I’m less in love. It’s more of a “single stroller that can accommodate more than one kid” stroller than a “works great for 2 under 2” stroller.

Plus, we got to try out the Baby Jogger City Select, one of the strollers from my original list but a brand no one I know seems to have any experience with. It’s…cool. Really cool. It works the way I had imagined the Uppa would – baby/toddler can sit in either seat, face all different directions, works with an infant up to a 45 lb kid – AND it can be a single stroller when you don’t need both seats. E loves it & is MUCH more excited about it than he was the Uppa. I was very impressed, despite not wanting to be impressed. I WANTED to love the Uppa and join the Kool Kids Who Have One Klub. I WANTED a pretty orange stroller. I WANTED to buy a stroller NOW, not spend another week thinking about it.

Also, even buying the Uppa from the (stupid) baby store on sale, it costs more than the Baby Jogger.

So the only thing keeping me from committing to the City Select RIGHT NOW is…it’s not orange. Tell me that’s the worst reason ever for making such a big decision.

Or how about this one: I don’t want to tell the baby store I’m not buying the Uppa they had brought over from the other store. Even though as of Sunday they STILL didn’t even have a rumble seat (hence driving somewhere else to try one). It’s that same feeling of dread I get when a salesperson in a clothing store helps me find stuff and then I have tell them I don’t want it after all. Shopping guilt. As if the inconvenience of helping me some how means I’m obligated to spend my money, even if they weren’t that helpful to being with.

Does that sound crazy or do you know what I’m talking about?

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I asked for advice this weekend on what sort of stuff you love/hate on blogs. If you have a second, can you offer me your suggestions?I’m getting all itchy to redesign stuff (or maybe it’s just the fleas) and don’t want to accidentally ruin a good thing.

And speaking of things you hate on blogs, they reset the Top Baby Blogs, which means I’m going to beg for votes for a few days. I’ve met a TON of other awesome bloggers through that list so staying in the top 20 40 50 100 gives me the chance to meet even more mamas. I appreciate it bunches and bunches!

TOTALLY INACCURATE

My neighborhood has a skunk problem.

Let me rephrase that.

My neighborhood, which is well within city limits, where I can look into at least four other houses’ windows from my own because they are so close, where emergency sirens and roaring trucks are far more common than bunnies and birdies, has been taken hostage by skunks.

The week we bought the house, back in the good old days BK (before kids) when I still took my poor long suffering dog Brutus for real walks several times a day instead of just shoving him out the door and glaring at him to hurry up and pee, we ran across a skunk wandering down the sidewalk at 7 am. I managed to drag Brutus, howling and whining, two blocks home before the poor, dazed skunk even realized what was going on. I breathlessly called animal control to report a TOTALLY CRAZY skunk sighting but apparently they don’t work at 7 am so I got the front desk of the police station. I described in great detail exactly where I saw the skunk, the intersection he was waddling towards and (sigh)what he looked like, as thoroughly and completely as I would have described a robbery suspect.

I bet those cops laughed about me for DAYS.

The skunks are everywhere. They’re digging in my trash cans making a mess. They’re standing in my driveway in the middle of the afternoon. They’re wandering around my yard in the evenings making Brutus go apeshit. They’re squashed flat in the middle of the road, making me gag and my eyes water.

I am sick and tired of these motherbleeping skunks in my motherbleeping town.

Tuesday afternoon the baby, the groceries and I were trapped in the car for 10 minutes while a clearly dazed and unwell skunk wandered through the garden, so when Brutus started pacing and whining around 8 o’clock I figured the beast was back and terrorizing our street. I slammed the door and yelled at the dog to sit down muttering about moving back to the country, where my landlord took care of lost skunks the old fashioned way – with a .22 and a shovel. (True story.)

When the dog woke me up with MORE whining at 4 am I spent 20 minutes debating whether it was worse to ignore him and clean up dog poop in the morning or let him out and deal with a dog-skunk death match and the smelly horrible after effects before dawn.

You can see how that might be a hard decision.

Eventually I felt enough dog-mommy guilt that I decided to let him out – after turning on every exterior light and peering out the back door suspiciously looking for skunky signs like…I don’t know. Wilted flowers. Droppings. A squirrel holding it’s nose. When poor Brutus was eventually released to the yard he barely made it off the porch before he started peeing. And peeing. And peeing. I started counting mississippis when he was STILL peeing after what felt like 10 minutes and I made it to 45 before he stopped to poop. And then he peed some more.

I am a terrible dog owner. I blame the skunks.

But what can we do? It’s not like I’m going to set traps – I couldn’t bring myself to use any kind that killed the skunk (especially since there are a dozen or so outdoor cats in my neighborhood) and an angry, trapped LIVE skunk sounds even worse than skunk eating my trash. Animal control doesn’t seem to care. They’ve been staging this attack since early spring and it just gets worse every year. Advice appreciated.

I was too busy passing my baby off on other people to do a post in honor of his 17 month milestone this weekend. Yes, I am a terrible, neglectful, horrible mother AND I DON’T EVEN CARE A TEENY TINY BIT. It was actually a much more important milestone for E and me – we’ve never turned baby bedtime over to anyone else before. My parents swear it was fine besides some protests over the big, slippery bath tub and Baby Evan was so exhausted from TWO dogs and several balls that he slept in later than I did every day. We are now one step closer to hiring an actual non-related baby sitter so we can make date night a regular event.

Ok, I swear I am done talking about how much we needed that break. Over. Done.

We really needed a break. A together break. Couple time is totally different from just a mommy break.

Sorry. Now let’s talk about my kid!

17 month milestones from Baby Center, as usual

Mastered Skills (most kids can do)
• Uses six words regularly – Yes, sort of, maybe. Most days it feels like the only two words he says are “dog” and “ball”. DOG! BALL! DOG! BALL! And new from this weekend, “DOGBALL!” – as in the ball that belongs to the dog and is not for babies. Definitely yes if you count signs.
• Enjoys pretend games – Maybe? I’m not always sure what he’s doing when he entertains himself. I guess he’s pretending. He is very good at making imaginary phone calls.
• Likes riding toys – Loves riding toys. Especially the dog. He also tried to ride his little V-Tech helicopter today with very poor results.

Emerging Skills (half of kids can do)
• Feeds doll – He’d rather feed Mommy or Daddy or Brutus. He’s very good at sharing food.
• Speaks more clearly – Well, “NO” no sounds exactly like “NO” instead of “neeaaawwwoo!!” He can also add “no” to any other word to make a sentence – “no dog!” “no ball!” “no dada!” “no book!”
• Throws a ball underhand – My kid is a ball throwing genius. He’s been throwing overhand (on the chart as an “advanced skill” at 18 months) for months already and has EXCELLENT aim. He can also catch the small blue ball about 50% of the time, which isn’t even on the under-two charts. Now we just have to decide which sports to sign him up for. (Football? Baseball?)

Advanced Skills (a few kids can do)
• Dances to music – He is a dancing FOOL. I swear I’ll get good video some time soon, but most of his dancing is to commercials on TV (add one more point to the bad mommy tally) so it’s only for a few seconds. He also “sings” sometimes, which is adorable.
• Sorts toys by color, shape, or size – Are they balls? He can sort those. He doesn’t really play with the toys specifically made for sorting yet, but he can sort his food based on color.
• Kicks ball forward – BAAAAAAALL!!!!! So, yes. (Soccer?)

A quick round-up of everything else: Baby Evan has 12 teeth – only missing the 2 year molars and the four canines. He’s going to get his first haircut soon, unless I can’t bring myself to do it because I don’t think the back-of-the-head curls are going to grow back and I love them SO SO much. He still refuses to wear shoes most of the time, although that’s mostly because he has TEENY TINY MIDGET FEET and all his cute size 5 sneakers are still too big and the size 4’s pinch his toes. He goes to sleep after a bath and a book without any protest, sleeps from 8 pm to 8 am and takes a 2-3 hour nap around 1 o’clock. (Do not ask me how we managed that, it was blind luck and a good tempered kid). We are still using cloth diapers during the day and disposables at night or when we travel, a system that works really well for us. Baby Evan is a champ at riding in the car, riding in the stroller and going new places. He loves everyone and gives out hugs and high-fives within minutes of meeting strangers. It is AMAZING to watch him grow into an actual little person, although sometimes littler person opinions can be a challenge. And I’ve got to stop laughing at his temper tantrums or I’ll encourage the banging-his-head-against-the-floor-and-stomping-his-feet-fits he’s recently started. They’re just so hilarious, especially since he knows not to hit people and dogs and often flounces off to hit a couch or a wall instead. Oh the flouncing.

Happy 17 months Baby Evan! I promise to stop calling you Baby really really soon!

Hockey? Daddy would like that one best. And yes, again, hobo baby wears no shoes.

Two of his favorite things: Dog and Yarn.

Food breakthrough: HUMMUS. Spinach and artichoke here. The mess is definitely worth the nutritional value.

Party Baby!! It's a whistle from the bachelorette party that I sadly broke just a few minutes after Baby Evan figured out how it worked. "Accidentally" broke, of course.

And here’s your bonus Baby Evan video of the week: attempting to jump. Jumping isn’t on the milestone chart until almost 2 years, so clearly these attempts are early and understandably less than perfect. But he loves doing it!

Sorry about the video, I forgot to turn my phone sideways & the quality isn’t very good, but you can get the idea.

(Maybe not basketball)

There’s nothing like the internet to make you feel bad about your kid’s milestones, amiright?

At least I totally won in mobility milestones with the “My kid’s walking already!” I’d be lying if I didn’t admit I looooved the looks on other mom’s faces at the mall when my answer to “Wow, he’s walking so well! How old is he?” was “Just turned 10 months. He’s very active!”

Oh parenting karma, thou art a total bitch.

At almost 16 months, Baby Evan is definitely communicative but not exactly verbose. He doesn’t pick up new words very quickly or repeat things we say immediately, although every once in a while shocks me by correctly using a word or sign I had no idea he knew (like “more”, which I swear to God I signed four hundred times a day for three months until I gave up – and then a couple weeks ago he was all “yeah, I want more, give me more, WHY DON’T YOU UNDERSTAND WHAT I’M SAYING WOMAN??? MOOOOOOORE.”)

Words He Says Consistently (and mostly understandably)
Ball
Dog
Cat
Balloon
Book
Daddy
Kiss
Uh Oh
No
Bye

Words He Signs
More
Dog
Eat
In
Milk
Bird
Fish
Hot
Yucky
Bye bye
Baby (I LOVE this one, he knows the baby is in my belly too)

Words He Might Be Saying But I Have *COUGH* NO IDEA Where He Would Have Learned
Shit

Words He Understands
Hey kid, stop running away from me and come over here!
Uh oh, you made a mess! Can you use this paper towel to clean it up?
Would you like to go play on the playground?
Where did you put that pink plastic cover thing that goes on Mommy’s phone?
That’s dirty, can you throw it in the trash?
Where’s your nose?
Where are your feet?
Don’t touch Daddy’s computer.
You may touch the yarn but please don’t grab it.
Stop hitting the dog.
Stop jumping on your baby sister.
Stop trying to climb the stairs.
Danger!

And pretty much EVERYTHING ELSE we say to him. He has no shortage of comprehension skills – it’s just a matter of whether or not he feels like listening. Because he’s a toddler and toddlers are JERKS.

So I guess he’s not exactly STUNTED in the vocabulary department. It just feels like it because of the internet. Maybe the INTERNET is the jerk.

Brutus & Evan

Baby Evan really really really really loves our dog Brutus. Really. He likes dogs in general – “dog” was the second sign he ever learned (after “milk”) and “dohg!” is one of the only things he says clearly and consistently – but I suspect he loves HIS dog best. Actually, I don’t suspect. I know. I know he likes the dog more than he likes pretty much anything. Including me.

Does he say or sign “mama”? No. Never. But every morning when I get him out of the crib he says “dohg! dohg!” until we come downstairs and say good morning to Brutus.

Clearly the dog wins.

Loves.

Sadly, I don’t think the dog feels the same way.

I mean, obviously Brutus tolerates Baby Evan. He’s never snapped or barked or intentionally knocked him over. Letting someone use your tail as a rope so they can climb up onto YOUR chair and then jump up and down on your face is definitely a sign of like. But I’m pretty sure Brutus wishes we had never brought this creature home in the first place. I can’t bring myself to tell him about the second baby.

What did you just say about about a second baby?

I like to think if Baby Evan ever fell down a well, Brutus would come and tell us. Or that he would bravely defend us from burglars. Or come wake everyone up if there was a fire. Unfortunately, I doubt he could be bothered to get out of his chair. Because that is His Chair, just in case you were wondering.

Not that you’d want to sit in it anymore, what with the smell. And the hair. And the smell.

But Baby Evan doesn’t seem to mind.

The dog was created specially for children. He is the god of frolic. ~Henry Ward Beecher

I’m just kidding about the not-saving-us-from-disaster thing. Of course he would save the day. Otherwise there wouldn’t be anyone to feed him.