thebeckybug

You may recall I used to have a zoo and could account for every acceptable household pet category.

Canine: Shade and Kerbey. Check and check.
Went with the ex. Uncheck.
Feline: Madge the cat. Check.
Went with Amanda to California. Uncheck.
Rodent: Shanda the hampster. Check.
Went with the Lord. Uncheck.
Aquatic: assorted fish, starfish, and crabs. Check, check, check.
Sold to the fish store. Uncheck.
Avian: Assorted songbirds visiting my outside feeders. Check.
Scared away from neighbor feline huntress. Uncheck.

When I broke up with my boyfriend he got the dogs. Both of them. I’m over it now, mostly. Mostly, because I found a new delicious puppy to fill my painful pet-less existence.

I found Muffin after searching local rescue organizations for a few months. She was by far, the most beautiful, most friendly dog at the shelter that day. She is a little huge-er and hound-doggier than I had planned to go with, but it’s hard to walk away from The Dog when she is staring you with big beautiful blue eyes that say, “puhhhleeeaaasse taaake meeeh!’ So the spotted goliath came home with me. And slept for two days straight.

Now, speaking from experience, two days of sleepy puppy may convince you that you have rescued the most obliging, well behaved dog on the planet. However, she will eventually perk up and act like a puppy. A puppy that whines and barks and digs and darts out the front door. She will be a puppy that doesn’t yet know her name or what “comehererightnow” actually entails, not even when you yell it.

My puppy, in particular, is a puppy that moves random objects around the house in a stealthy-like manner. So that when you are looking for your other shoe, the shoe that is not where you left it; the shoe will be hidden smack dab in the middle of the room you’ve been searching for the past 20 minutes.

Muffin, despite the fact she’s a puppy, is the bestest big giant puppy I could have ever wanted.

It would behoove you to straighten the papers in the file before handing it over to me.

After going through a box of papers from my childhood, I found the following chart. It’s a list of commonly used inappropriate words, and the penalty for uttering such obscenities within our home.

Looking back now, I’d pay the $2.00 price to hear:

My youngest brother at age 3, storm up the stairs as much as any toddler can muster. We hear him scream, “F _ _ _ _ T! F _ _ _ _ T! F _ _ _ _ T!” because his turn with the nintendo was over.

My older brother tell me, “Stop being such a WUGGET.” Feeling totally degraded, I find that I cannot locate “wugget” in the dictionary. I finally confront him about the true meaning of his put-down. He is less than informative.

What exactly is it about picking a tick off the dog that makes me impulsively shudder and slough imaginary bugs off my neck for the next few hours?

Changed the transmission fluid (mostly) by myself.

Saved enough money for a good down payment on a new car (in case the transmission fluid fix doesn’t work.)

Started volunteering with RFB&D. (Here’s to #31)

Found this awesome dude who’s helping me with this website. (Get excited!)

Two poops on the potty without screaming from her (or me.)

Big stuff, people, big stuff!

When driving home from the doctor’s office, sniffling, antibiotics and tissues in tow, I take one look at my house and think:

Wow, the house looks so cute in the daylight.

As if there weren’t enough grease in the two tacos for 99 cents, I had to add on some curly fries.

P.S. Since when does medium translate to styrofoam vat?

Things that seem to work but really don’t when trying to entice potty training:

1. Candy as a reward for trying

2. Small child-sized potty in the middle of the living room floor

3. TV while trying to potty

4. Constant constipation

5. Toys as a reward

6. A bathroom door that doesn’t work properly

7. Begging, pleading, demanding, making fun of, yelling, peer pressure, being overly frustrated

8. Asking nicely

9. Pull-ups

10. New baby sister, replacing role of youngest beloved child

Next steps:

1. Making her change her own diaper

2. Endless supply of panties, detergent and garbage bags

3. Prunes, prunes and more prunes

4. Telling her that if she wants privacy, she can move to the potty in the actual bathroom, where there’s a door that shuts … and locks. If she can figure out how to lock it, I’m sure she’ll eventually get hungry enough to figure out how to unlock it. Plus, I could use a couple hours of quiet time with her new baby sister.

5. Therapy (for me)

The two of us walk out of Target and as we pass an ashtray the following conversation ensues:

Carolina (5yrs): What ARE those things?

Nanny Goat (that’s me): What do you think they are?

C: Pipes?

NG: Sorta. People smoke them. Do you know what they’re called?

C: Yeah, I can’t remember, though.

NG: They’re called CIGARETTES, Carolina.

C: Yeah, ugh, CIGARETTES.

NG: And what if someone asks you if you want a cigarette, what do you say?

C: NOOOOOOooo!

NG: Yeah … that’s right and what if they say “Come on Carolina, you should have one,” then what do you say?

C: NOOOOOOooo!

NG: And what if someone says “Hey, Carolina, try a cigarette, everyone here is smoking them.”

C: NOOOOOoooo!

NG: [casually] And what if I’m smoking a cigarette and I say “Carolina, you should really try this cigarette, it is good, it tastes like candy.”

C: [… long pause…] Um, sure?

Hello there, hi again, oh yeah, I forgot I had a website, too. It is nice of you to drop by again, though. Well, nice if you’re not one of my innumerable dedicated spammers. Do any other bloggers get this much spam? Alas, I suppose it is part of the medium.

Anyway, about me: a couple months ago the world that usually spins quietly along for me started rocking and rolling. I am still attempting to find a perspective on the situation, but really, things just exploded an landed in a lovely mess.

Back Story: A year ago I made a couple goals for myself:
a. Know where the relationship with my boyfriend (My Favorite) is going in one year. If it is not going where I want it to, then get out.
b. Do something with this first-draft bakery business plan I put together if I’m still thinking about it in a year.

And then it sorta happened all like this:
1. Told my enterprising father that I wanted to own a bakery some day
2. I decided I needed more money to chase my bake shop dreams
3. Applied for grad school so as to teach high school and have my summers off to chase my dreams
4. Met a family friend, who ran a newly opened bakery, and who needed a partner
5. Let graduate school applications stay blank on my desk
6. Started working at all hours of every day on exciting new bakery (in addition to my two other jobs)
7. Realized my current relationship is not capable of handling my new momentum
8. Looked for a new place to live and find tons of weird and one awesome roommate situation
9. Cried about the stress in my life
10. The ex moved out and I get to keep the place - but not the dogs
11. Got interested in a new dude (who happened to be the possible future roommate)
12. Ex got mad and decided we’re not to be friends and I will never see dogs again
13. Grieved my dogs
14. Nanny family made a new! adorable! baby! and I started working well into the evenings
15. Estrogen levels rose, I got burnt out on everything and cursed myself for not being superhuman
16. Things evened out and the future got bright

Out of all the many things that have recently happened, it is hard to wrap my head around any of them. I know things are good but I know that there are these aftershocks still happening from an intense breakup. I have however, found myself meeting new people again and making actual friends of them. Sometimes I look in the mirror to find that I’m sort of glowing from life going so well. And that’s what it’s all about, right?