Home » The Baby Won’t Eat, The Toddler Won’t Nap, and The Dog Has a Drinking Problem

The Baby Won’t Eat, The Toddler Won’t Nap, and The Dog Has a Drinking Problem

Things have been busier than usual.  Easter, friends, travel. . .trying to get stuff done around the house. . .minor car issues. . .

Anyway, it’s been a lot of ripping around – with two kids in tow.  It’s making me exhausted and I’m pretty sure we no longer have any semblance of routine.

And that’s making me even MORE EXHAUSTED. . .If that’s even possible.

Our days used to be very structured.

And I seldom deviated because this worked well for Mac and when we switched stuff up, it felt like it took forever to get back on track. . .and it made him terrifically grumpy.

Then Teddy came along.  Poor Teddy doesn’t have any sort of routine because he is basically just strapped to my chest all the time going along with whatever is going down. . .

But the past few weeks have been this perfect storm of Mac electing to nap less and less frequently, extra errands and chores, introducing solid foods to Teddy, plus teething. . .The wheels are definitely coming off the damned cart.

When Mac doesn’t nap, he can be a complete jerk.  So when he elects NOT to nap, I have to scramble to find him something to do in the afternoon that isn’t too stressful or strenuous.  Otherwise, he just wanders around doing things he KNOWS he shouldn’t do resulting in what feels like one solid 90 minute time-out.

Lately, my low-key amusement tactic has involved stuffing Mac in a shopping cart at Target or Harris Teeter.  I have errands, they are conveniently located, and he likes riding in the cart possibly more than anyone EVER in the history of carts.

Of course, this means any individual attention Teddy might have been receiving during Mac’s nap time is eliminated. . .Including the one meal Teddy gets a day that doesn’t involve my being completely distracted and the one nap a day he takes that doesn’t involve the imminent threat of attack by a toddler.

And because of this, Teddy seems to be acting like a little jerk sometimes too. . .hungry but won’t always eat, tired but fighting sleep. . .

Afternoons used to be one of my favorite parts of the day.  They are now possibly my least favorite.  In fact, the only thing that makes them the slightest bit tolerable is knowing that it’s more socially acceptable to drink in the afternoon. . .

Speaking of drinking. . .Since I’ve confessed that I’ve likely turned my children into little jerks with my lack of structure, I might as well confess the rest. . .THE DOG HAS A DRINKING PROBLEM.


Satan’s Lap Hound hits the water dish harder than Mommy hits the scotch after three consecutive non-nap days.

At first I thought it was just a social thing. . .Like maybe he sees the cats at the water dish and he wants in on their happy hour action.  But after last week’s little episode, I fear he needs a 12-step program. . .maybe even a medically supervised detox. . .

One of those napless afternoons, I took the kids to Target.  And while we were in Target, it stormed.  The thunder was so loud, it even startled me while happily ensconced in the comforting depths of Target’s well-organized linens department. . .

And when we arrived home, I realized it scared Tilghman too.  (Thankfully, it didn’t scare him um shitless). . .Yet, it was enough to prompt him to pee in the middle of the kitchen.

No big deal.  These things happen.  This is why we’ll NEVER have carpet.

I rushed to get some towels while Mac stomped through the sizeable puddle screaming “Tilghman peed!  Tilghman peed on the floor!  You don’t tinkle on the floor Tilghman!  It was an ax-sigh-dent!”

The following early afternoon, there was again NO NAP so we ventured to the Harris Teeter for the Easter dinner provisions.  (I die.  It’s glorious!)

Upon our return, I came flying into the house with 15 sacks of groceries and the two kids.  It was getting late and due to my ahem “new and improved” laundry routine, I knew I needed to get laundry in the dryer ASAP.

I left the groceries on the counter, kids to their own devices, and hurdled the baby gate to the basement to quickly flip the laundry.

I squatted in front of the washer and dryer, my back to the rest of the house, and ripped open the doors of both machines. . .

“Tilghman’s peeing on floor!” screamed Mac.  “Tilghman’s peeing.”

“Is that what happened yesterday when we got home?  Tilghman had an accident didn’t he?” I shouted not even turning my attention away from the laundry.

“Tilghman peeing!” Screamed Mac again.

“Right.  Yesterday, he had an accident while we were out.  It’s okay.  It happens.”  I shouted.  “Are you still thinking about it. . .Did it. . .”

And then I heard what sounded like our basement shower being turned on full force.

What the hell is that?  Did Mac turn on the sink somehow?  Is the shower actually on?  


IS Tilghman tinkling again?  Oh gawd no!!

I turned my head away from the laundry and gasped in horror.  Tilghman was indeed peeing a floor above me.  And IT WAS RUNNING THROUGH THE FLOOR AND DRAINING THROUGH OUR BASEMENT’S RECESSED LIGHTING!

That’s “shower sound?”  Yep.  That much dog urine was draining through the a can light with as much force as an actual shower.


Of course, all of our old ratty towels were still in the wash from yesterday’s urine-related disaster.

I grabbed our guest towels and  spread them on the floor, dog pee dripping from the ceiling down my face.  Yes.  My face.  

“Mac!  Please stay away from the dog tinkle.  Please?” I exclaimed attempting to sound calm.

This is freaking bullshit.  I am so annoyed.  

Did I just get dog piss IN MY MOUTH?!

Yes, Deni.  Yes you did.

I proceeded upstairs to find Mac in his socks sliding through the biggest puddle of pee I have ever seen. . .

“Mac!  So gross!  Please stop!” I shouted racing upstairs to get more bath towels.

I spent the next 4o minutes scrubbing floors and attempting to drain dog piss from the recessed light fixture all while amusing two kids.

And as soon as I was finished?  I packed us back up in the car and drove us straight to the liquor store.

Because if ANYONE in this house should have a drinking problem IT’S ME.