I’ve told this story a few times in the past weeks and I cannot believe I have yet to post about it in some way shape or form. Its hilarious now, but like most of my stories, not so awesome at the time.
So, its December. My then 9 month old baby isn’t sleeping more than 2 hours at a time, ever, won’t sooth for anyone but my breast, husband is deployed to a dangerous place, I’m snowed in in New York and battling some really awful post partum depression/anxiety.
The baby has been sick for almost a week so I have to cancel my son’s 3rd birthday party because I can’t bring her around all these other kids while she has a fever, that would be a total jerk move. So on the day of the party I decide to throw in the towel and on a whim, pack all our humans and pets and things and run off to my parents house near Pittsburgh.
The 7 hour drive took 11 hours. I’m exhausted, baby still screaming bloody murder all the time. Son confused as to why his party was supposed to be today but now isn’t. I’m just winning all battles, clearly.
We get to my parents and it really doesn’t get better. I have help but I’m still the only one who can get up and nurse the baby 5x a night plus now we’re in a not-really-child-proofed home with all these beautiful things my dad and mom have collected over a 35 year military career, so I’m on edge that my kids will screw something up on top of all the other stress.
My dad is really obsessive about this turkish rug when it comes to my kids. Don’t get me wrong, its beautiful, but its also about 25 years old and is kinda coming apart at the tassels. Mom even says they often fall off when she vacuums and not to worry if they kids tug at them – but my dad still has a fit about it sometimes. So after hearing him fret about it enough, I just rolled the things up and they can roll it back out after we leave. There, problem solved.
Baby still screaming bloody murder 2 days later, on my son’s actual 3rd birthday, so I take her to urgent care. They suspect either pneumonia or a UTI. Both just would be awesomeeeeee. But unfortunately they can’t take care of such small humans at urgent
care and send us to the hospital near by to get x-rays and to catheter her. X rays come back clear (thank God), urine… positive for UTI. But, of course, we had to be in the ER for 6 hours for them to find this out AND while we were at the ER… surprise blizzard. I’m not kidding, this stuff really does happen to me. I am NOT making this up. You can ask my mommy.
We drive from the hospital to the grocery store/pharmacy near my parent’s house and because I packed in a fury, I didn’t pack enough dog food, so I grab some cheap dog kibbles and bits while waiting for baby’s prescription antibiotic. Turns out, the prescription they prescribed isn’t in stock at this pharmacy, so they call the doc to get him to fax a different type that they do have. Fax comes over, dosing seems wrong. Now pharmacist has to call back and get the doc to look at the dosing and re-fax. Cue 2 hours in the grocery store/pharmacy while the snow is just getting worse and worse.
Only bonus is because I missed the entire day of my son’s birthday AND I cancelled his party for my daughter having a non-communicable illness, I decide to grab a cake for his birthday. But being 12 days from Christmas, the only ones they had were cakes with Christmas trees on them (WINNINGGGGGGGG).
While the prescription is finally getting processed a police officer walks by, and in this tiny town everyone is chatting him up. He proceeds to tell all of us that the safer, less windy, less steep road to my parent’s is blocked by an awful accident from icy roads. And it will be hours before its cleared. I call my dad – he assures me there is no safe way for me to drive my FWD mid-sized SUV up the mountain in this ice and snow and not crash during the 7 mile windy road. So he hops in his truck to come rescue us.
Daddy gets there, talks to the manager about how we have to leave my car there, manager is totally awesome about it. We move baby’s car seat to Dad’s truck and hit the road.
LJ was absolutely STOKED about his Christmas tree cake. He actually still talks about it to this day! So that was about the only win of the day.
A day or so goes by, we get my car from the grocery store and now its bed time. I lay LJ down in the bed he and I are sharing and I put the baby in her crib. She screams bloody murder because that was her thing and as she finally calms down, I jump in the shower. A few minutes into my shower, I hear the baby just absolutely SCREAMING. “Seriously?!?! You’ve been asleep for 10 minutes!!! WHYYYYYY”. So I peek at the monitor. LJ is IN the crib with her. Decided to just jump on in and have a snuggle.
I’m not proud of this but I busted in that room and absolutely lost it – yelling, crying, sobbing. I decided right then – we were leaving the second I got up the next day. My parents and their help were awesome but not being in our own home was somehow making everything worse.
The next morning around 3am I wake up and feed the baby and stay awake to pack the car while everyone is asleep. I go to take the first load out to my car and *squish*… I step in dog diarrhea right on the floor mat of my parent’s garage door. Ok, so clearly Gunner, my 75 lb German Shepherd whom I gave the crappy dog food to when he is used to the expensive grain free grass fed stuff, had to poop in the middle of the night and waited politely at the back door to be let out. When no one let him out, he pooped. Totally not his fault. Disgusting, but not his fault.
I go to the laundry room and wash my foot off in the wash sink, wash down as much off the mat as I can and throw it in the laundry, and proceed to hand mop the spot on the floor by the garage door. *Phew.. that was disgusting but its over with, back to the packing*.
I walk upstairs to gather more things… notice dog poop at the door to the sun room. So now clearly Gunner also went to this exit to the home thinking someone would let him out there, no one did, he pooped. So now I begin the clean up process again.
Did I mention how AWFUL this all smelled. Poop doesn’t sound good but sick poop smells REALLY bad. It was awful. Its still 4am. This is just the best day already.
I’m getting everything finally together and I’m about to wake the kids to leave. Its now about 5am. My dad is sleeping on the couch and I notice he’s unrolled the Turkish rug. Oi, he couldn’t even wait until we left.
Then as I get closer to try to see if there are any toys or kid things I missed, the overwhelming smell of poop hits me again. “I wonder where that poop is????”
Yup, you guys guessed it, my dog CRAPPED right in front of my father ON the 25 year old Turkish rug he holds on a pedestal. Apparently dad unrolled it, Gunner stood in front of him, probably moaning for someone to let him out, and when dad didn’t wake up and Gunner couldn’t hold it anymore… “cleared hot for Turkey” apparently.
My dog, had his largest diarrhea poop of the evening not 2 feet from my dad sleeping on the couch on his beautiful, old, heirloom type Turkish rug.
You can bet your sweet booty I won’t be buying Gunner kibbles and bits anymore.