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Alternate Titles:
All I want for Christmas is...a deep clean
Character Building?
(shit)storm watch 2011
The things I could have bought with that $200
Anyone have a steam cleaner we can borrow?
Dumpster diving in the great lakeridge yonder


It all started on Monday.  Rudder puked.  I didn't attach pictures for your viewing pleasure (oh yeah, you know I took 'em) so I apologize in advance.  I'll try and create a very clear mental image for you.  Rudder puked. I groaned and then took off to pick Maddie up from school.  We then headed down to South Center.  I texted Kip to complain about the traffic.  He said, "I'd rather be sitting in traffic that cleaning up this puke.  There are four more piles."  So, I sat back, cranked up the heat to an unbearable level, cranked the radio volume to an almost unbearable level and enjoyed my traffic.  Remember my pennies?  Turns out dogs prefer to puke in the most inconvenient places.  Yup...he got them.  Whatever though. It was all cleaned up by the time I got home.

We all went to bed and per the usual Maddie came into our room around 3:00 AM.  Rudder also woke us up.  Have you heard a dog before he upchucks (I'm trying to be more polite now)? It's like a slow motion horror show.  I equate it to the sound of a plunger.  And there's only about 3-4 plunges before you've missed your shot.  And you normally take about 1-2 plunges to realize what that weird plunger noise is.  So yeah, we missed it. 3:00 AM and we were all up for the day.  Kip got into the shower to get ready for work and I took one for the team and crawled back into bed with Maddie.  Except it honestly smelled like we were baking a poop cookie in bed.  It. Smelled. Horrible.  And it was my dear, sweet, innocent 4 year old (who I later learned tried to wipe her own butt) that smelled like shit.  So, then I had a crying poopy child who I took into the shower to clean up.  We got back into bed, snuggled and while I still smelled the faint trace of fecal matter I was too exhausted at that point to care.  Back to bed we went.

After confining Rudder to one room so that I could go to work knowing that there'd only be one area to check for throw up, versus the entire house, we all took off for a few hours.  And man oh man did he have some "fun" while we were gone.  We have two rugs in our room. One is from Pottery Barn and the other Ikea.  Who wants to guess which one he chose to throw up THREE times on?  At this point paper towels and carpet cleaner is not going to do the job so I remove the chunks (with a lot of commentary from Allie) and then drag the rug into the shower.  What I've failed to mention so far is that Allie has had at least five fake-out "I need to go poop" attempts today. But right as I'm getting the rug rinsed off she has a serious, panicked sounding "I need to go poop." I drop the shower head, facing towards the wall, snatch her up and throw her on the potty.  Then I hear a noise.  I look back and see that the shower head has turned itself around and is now spraying the entire bathroom.  At this same moment Allie announces that no, in fact, she does not need to go to the bathroom.  Okay, deep breath.  Laugh or cry, laugh or cry, laugh or cry. I chose to laugh. 

I clean up the bathroom, start my millionth load of laundry for the day and then begin stripping my sheets.  There is a poop smear on the sheets.  LAUGH OUT LOUD! This day is awesome! Not only did Maddie smell like poop, which is gross, but we also slept in it!  New sheets on the bed.  FAST.

In a time of stress, and multiple piles of dog vomit does equal stress, new music can help.  I plug in my phone in an attempt to download some new stuff onto iTunes (another fun story is that I lost 95% of my music when our computer died a few weeks back).  iTunes won't work. I quickly call Apple Support.  I wait on hold for 10 minutes and just as the call connects Allie announces again that she needs to poop.  So, I'm reading a serial number off and wiping a butt.  That is a true mama. But then she starts complaining that her vagina hurts.  Loudly. I try to ignore her but the harder I try the more she repeats it and the louder it gets.  So I pick her up and lay her on my bed (my freshly made bed) so I can put diaper cream on.  And then she shits.  On my bed.  I hung up on my Apple friend. 

Kip comes home, yay!! He's pretty stuffed up but notices a smell downstairs.  He asks if I smell it. (of course he asks, (she who finds it gets to clean it up) downstairs is HUGE so actually walking the one lap from the dining room to the kitchen, to the office, to the hallway, to the living room and back to the dining room would not be advisable)  So, we find three more files of throw up.  And finally, we find one 4" chicken bone.  (for the record Kip did clean it up which was very nice of him) And now I panic.  This dog refuses to eat or drink and we've had 24 hours of vomiting.  I'm a little concerned he's going to die.  I mean really, this is the first time in the 3 years we've had him that I've pet him! If you know Rudder you know he goes bananas when you try and touch him.  Now he just sits calmly and lets me pet him, and he looks at me with some very sad brown eyes.  I take him to the vet who says that they want to watch him overnight.  I ask, "oh, is there somebody actually there all night?"  Yeah, not so much.  What's one more pile of puke? I'd rather him puke at home than alone in a cage.  Plus, I'm hoping we can just work this one out on our own.  We don't.  I offer the most GLORIOUS dog breakfast in the world and he refuses to eat it.  :-(  Back to the vet we go. 

But before we go, everyone has to get ready.  And Allie's fingernails are really freaking long.  So, I cut them. Despite her protests.  And there's one final little sharp edge that I want to get off.  Do you want to know where that little thing landed?  IN MY EYE.  Seriously. I am not making this up.  And I couldn't stop blinking.  And it hurt like a mother. Serious.  I'm pretty sure I scratched the shit out of my eye with a two year old's fingernail clipping. 

ANYHOW

After I froze my ass off in a plane, and the girls got to go swimming with Zaide (another post) Allie and I come home for lunch.  She's announced she needs to poop.  So we go into the bathroom, she does her thing and then back to the table we go.  But then she needs to poop again.  So I pick her up with my right hand, lay her over my arm and start pulling off her pants and undies with my left hand.  And then there is a turd in my hand.  Yes.  You can't make this stuff up.  I'm just going to leave it at that.  Here's to a better tomorrow!


Rudder's fine.  I think the chicken bone he finally barfed up was the last of the garbage.  Unfortunately with that much throwing up comes air.  Air in the stomach, air in the intestines and a whole lot of pain.  His x-ray showed a very irritated intestine and a large chunk of air in his stomach.  He still is not interested in eating. But we did finally get an egg and some cheese down the hatch.  I will say, however mean this is, I love mellow Rudder.  He is so sweet.  But we're ready for the crazy goofball to come back and join us.  I hope he got a taste of the good life and realizes how nice it is to be petted but my guess is as soon as he's back to normal one hand out to pet equals a dog that starts bouncing all over the room.

And stop eating garbage you moron!!!

And trust me, I know he learned no lesson from all of this.

And you want to hear one more final funny thought?  I had to bring rudder into the vet sans leash because we have no leashes.  Want to know why? He's eaten them all. Serious. Santa is bringing him some new ones.  And hopefully a brain too.