If we didn't have a horse-dog

oh the joy I would have missed.

1) I would not have had to stay up all night a week ago, holding my husband's hand as we sat vigil on a swallowed dirty wet wipe. Because everyone (me) knows that you shouldn't just leave dirty diapers, containing dirty wet wipes, laying around on the floor. Well, perhaps, everyone (Matt) shouldn't let the dog wander around upstairs, which is in general off limits to all creatures of this house under the age of five and any all beings who can not be trusted to not play with/throw about/touch/sample/taste and/or otherwise SWALLOW cloth like rags with poop smears on them.

Sadly, this is not the first time that a baby creature in my care has swallowed poopy paper.

2) I would not have had to run, gagging, from the room when horse-dog, aka, Hampton Noodle horked up his entire breakfast with a dirty wet wipe, like a cherry, on top. Thus, endeth my husband's doggy death watch. Gross.

3) The antique (this house is over eighty years old, and therefore, everything in it qualifies as antique, otherwise known as old, broken, not functioning in a modern, predictable and efficient type way) door to the kids' room, which matches all the other antique upstairs doors, with its antique (read that, malfunctioning and irreplaceable) hardware, would not be, currently, scattered about the upstairs hall in splintered, broken, (SOB!!!!) pieces. The result of Matt kicking it in. Because Garrett locked himself in the room with the antique (old and malfunctioning) lock. Because he kicked the door repeatedly while in a time out. Because he hit the dog.

Clearly, the dog's fault. With a side of omigod Matt, while I am thrilled that you are manly and strong and capable of breaking a dead bolt (and a door frame and the entire door lock casing) with one blow of your powerful, manly foot, I think, in retrospect, that I wish you hadn't been here, because I might have cried and panicked and discussed the situation with Garrett until I realized that the dead bolt was locked. RAH. MY DOOR. HAMPTON.

4) I would not cringe in horror every time I walked into the kitchen and glimpsed from the corner of my squinty averted gaze, the massive claw marks down the front of one of my custom cupboards. Where a certain 45 lb begging machine "requested" a chip. Why does he even know there are chips in that drawer? Children. (Tears. Unhappiness. I have survived almost five years of children with nary a scratch on the kitchen cupboards. Yes, I am insanely anal retentive and no, my children are never, ever allowed in the kitchen without me. Five years. Nary a scratch. For naught. Naught, I tell you. And sure, you can judge me. Crazy. Ridiculously strict. Non-Montessori-ish, values-her-cupboards-more-than-her-children-shouldn't-even-be-a mommy. And I will tell you, it's just who I am. A loving, happy, reasonably well-adjusted mother who never ever lets her children in the kitchen. We can't change our core beings, people, we just have to work around them.)

5) I would not have to spend dinner time with a squirt water bottle in my hand the better for banishing horse dogs from under the table where they are not allowed to be while we are eating. GASP! CHOKE! RULES! ORDER! No heads in our laps while we eat. No stealing of socks and shrieking of children. No eating off of the baby's high chair tray. NO EATING OFF OF THE BABY'S HIGH CHAIR TRAY. SQUIRT!! SQUIRT!! SQUIRTSQUIRTSQUIRT!!!! SQUIRT HIM MOMMA!! SQUIRT HIM!!! SQUIRTME!! SQUIRTSAIGE!!

6) I would not have to walk around the house holding the squirt bottle at the ready like some kind of old west law woman. Freeze! Drop the baby toy! Squirt! Release the baby's sock with the baby's toe still in it, outlaw! SQUIRT!! SQUIRT!! SQUIRTSQUIRTSQUIRT. Squirt him momma!! Squirt him!! Get your nose out of his diaper. SQUIRT! Don't knock the children down and steal their socks. Squirt! Get off of my sock! For the love of god, are you actually stealing my sock off of my foot?!?! SQUIRT!!SQUIRTSQUIRTSQUIRT!!

I'm not going insane at all. Nor do I have squirty water bottle issues. What? Are you still here? Get off of my blog! SQUIRT! Are you touching my cupboards?!!! SQUIRT! IS THAT MY SOCK!!!! SQUIRTSQUIRTSQUIRT!!!!!