A Trip Amid a Pandemic

My brother decided to move. In the middle of a pandemic. He had been renting in the DC area for the last 10 years and finally decided to buy. Good news, right?

Riiiiight. 

Because guess who got to go to DC in the middle of a pandemic to help him move?

Riiiiight.

Listen, any other day, I'd be the first one to offer my services. I did go to Dallas to help my sister (big help that I was) and I helped my other brother when he moved. It's what we do. But, I couldn't go this time. Besides the dog causing problems, my 15-year-old has been sick, and all these things were piling up in my brain and I couldn't bring myself to want to go. But, my sister really wanted to go.

My mother decided to help. But, we're in the middle of a pandemic. And she's at risk. So, again, guess who went with my sister to DC in the middle of a pandemic to help our brother move?

Riiiiight.

But, that is not the point of this post. 

Honestly, I love DC. My BFF has lived there 20 years now and it's always been a home away from home for me. It's a (most of the time) quick 6 hours from here and then you're in a whole new world. I mean, politics aside, it's a great area. This time was no exception. Even during a pandemic. 

I'm not one to get all wrapped up in the political landscape, nor am I one to politicize a pandemic, but dang, DC seems to be doing it right. 

Living in Ohio, we were, in the beginning, a leader in our response to the coronavirus. People from all over the country were talking about how well our governor and health director kept us safe. But, something happened along the way... the economy tanked and people lost jobs and got tired of staring at each other (from afar, of course) and wanted to drink in bars so there were more and more critics. In these last few months, the director quit and our governor has gone soft. When, back in March, he was all, "STAY HOME", now he's all, "eh, stay home if you can, but I understand we all have lives to lead." (I still love you, Mike.) Even though we are required to wear masks whenever we're out in public, nothing really happens if you don't. As a result, we're seeing a surge in cases. 

Again, this isn't a political thing. I don't think masks infringe upon my freedoms. And I am the first person to tell you I don't like being told what to do. But, it's like my friend's dad always said: "I don't know if there's a God, but it's better to err on the side of caution." The same applies here. I don't know if masks will save the world, but I'm pretty sure the lack of masks won't either. So, wear your damn masks.

The mayor of DC has also mandated masks. And, I'm not sure why or how, but... people are listening. We didn't go anywhere without seeing people in masks. Walking their dog, walking by themselves... if they were outside, they were in masks. The movers were in masks. My brother was in a mask in his own home. And, if you believe the mayor's graphs, DC is showing sustained low transmission. Ohio can take a page out of their playbook.

My 12-year-old was going to run cross country for the first time for his school. But, our county board of health said, "yeah, no sports", so our school postponed all sports. Again, I'm all for the greater good. If my kids are safer at home, they're going to stay home. But, even though we have had a nice quarantine at my house, we are getting tired of staring at each other and we all want to go back to normal. I want my kids to go to school, I want them to play sports, I want them to see their friends. I don't want them to have anxiety and lingering fears once this is over. So, the sooner we can all do the right thing, be safe, and wear our damn masks, I really believe the sooner this will all be over.

So, listen up, Ohio. I don't know if masks will help, but I certainly know that masks can't hurt. I want this stupid virus to be over already, so get your shit together. I'm over it. 

The Joy of Puppies

Here we are. Week 6 with the puppy. In some respects, things are getting easier. In others...they are most definitely not.

Where things are getting easier:

1. He sleeps in his crate. Like, we put him in and he doesn't make a peep. The first time it happened was the single greatest day of my life. I mean, to not have to hear him whine and bark for however long he would whine and bark? Pure bliss. It is also nice to be able to sleep in my bed and not on the floor next to a friggin' dog crate.

2. Potty training is getting better. We *almost* never have accidents. The times we have had accidents have been a) because we're dumb or b) he was sick. Or, I suppose there was also a c) he was mad at me.

3. He knows his name. It's pretty great that he comes when called. I feel like I win the lottery any time anyone listens to me. I mean, sure, he associates his name with treats. Whatever. He comes.

4. He's not teething as much. Sure, he's recently discovered unopened wine bottles to gnaw on, but hey, at least it's no longer my hand! 

5. We *mostly* have a rhythm. In addition to sleeping in the crate, he will wake at a normal time (meaning, it's light outside). I get up with him, we do our business and then he does his business (outside) and then we chill or play for a few hours before the rest of the world wakes up. I don't mind the time I have just the two of us, but I will state again for the record: If these assholes want him to love them more, they really should consider getting up with him in the morning. Rocco and I have lived an entire day before they even see him. That ain't my fault.

And this brings us to where things are either the same or worse...

1. He can now climb on things. We have a leather couch. He likes to jump on it to chew on the fake plant on the table behind the couch. He has also had the zoomies on the couch. Did I mention the couch is leather?!

2. He refuses to play fetch. I blame the 12-year-old for this one. They made up a game where Rocco grabs a toy and the 12-year-old chases him around and around saying, "I'm gonna gitcha!". Rocco loves it, we think it's adorable, and so, well, we don't change it. The only bad part is when people actually want to play fetch with him. They throw a ball, he goes to get it, but then never gives it back. And if you try to get the ball from him, he just plays the "I'm gonna gitcha" game. Truthfully, it makes me laugh, but I guess it was kind of annoying when my mom just wanted to play fetch. She wasn't interested in running around the house. Go figure.

3. He continues to eat things he shouldn't. Like the fake plant above, he has now found toilet paper, decorative grass (I guess it's considered grass?) in our ficus tree, cardboard boxes, and decorative flowers (are you sensing a theme here?). This leads us to...

4. He keeps getting diarrhea. He was sick most of yesterday and woke up at midnight, 2am, and 4am last night to go to the bathroom. To add to that, he came with me to pick up the 12-year-old from practice (he loves car rides) and threw up in the car. I suppose the only upside to that is that he cleaned up after himself... by eating what he threw up. Blech.

5. He learned to hump. This was a horrifying revelation. He started humping his snuggle puppy, which was weird enough, but then humped our neighbor's puppy. Last night, he humped our other neighbor's (grown) golden, and our neighbor basically told his dog to not expect our dog to call her the next day.

6. He loves only me. Listen, I love that he loves me best. It's a nice feeling, especially when a) the kids don't need me like they used to and b) our last pet was my husband's. She loved him so much, she tried to kill me numerous times so she could have him all to herself. But now, this pet is mine. The problem is I am the only person who exists in his world. If I leave, he constantly looks for me. This past weekend, I went to my book club and didn't get home until late. At 11:00, my 12-year-old called to ask when I was getting home. Apparently, Rocco would not stop barking in his crate (which, you'll see above, we had fixed). So, I had to leave (and make my other friends leave since we all carpooled). When I got home, I got into bed and Rocco promptly laid down to sleep. I must admit this made me giggle maniacally, but it's not good for us. Am I never going to be able to leave the house again?!! To add to that, the next morning, he both peed and pooped in the dining room. That'll teach me, I guess.

---------

BONUS: (Shh, don't tell anyone, but...) I might love him more than anyone else in my house. He doesn't talk back. He has an opinion and sometimes lets me know it, but in the end, he does what I want. He's the very best snuggler. And he seems happy here. Which makes me happy. 

Next up - teaching him English!

#DogLife

So, we've had Rocco now for 4 weeks. Four weeks of joy, frustration, exhaustion, and love. Let me break it down for you.

JOY
To start, he's adorable. Just looking at him brings a smile to anyone's face, he's that adorable. And that's not just me being biased. Take a look at this picture and try not to smile.

Can't do it, can you?

To add to his general adorableness, he lurves me best, so, of course, I'm overcome with joy all the time. He sits next to me, he lays next to me, he listens to my commands... and no one else. Pure. joy. Heh.

FRUSTRATION
As mentioned in a previous post, he eats EVERYTHING: shoes, grass, mulch, hands, the plastic part of his harness... it's very frustrating. Especially when he now has diarrhea mixed with a little blood (sorry, TMI). I called the vet today and I had to drop him off to get an X-ray. (Stupid COVID for not letting me stay with him.) I broke him. I hope I'm still his favorite when it's all over.

EXHAUSTION
He hates his crate. I've read all the articles, I've talked to my dog friends, nothing is working. He's pretty stubborn. The only semi-solution is to lay on the floor next to his crate until we both fall asleep. It works for him, and sorta works for me. I mean, I can fall asleep anyway, which is half the battle.

LOVE
I just said I sleep on the floor next to his crate almost every night, right? Love. I always want to be with him. Love. I'm sitting here, so worried that I broke him, I couldn't think of anything to do except write about him. Love.

It's possible I've jumped ship and become a dog person.

Yes, Wear a Mask, but No, Don't Be a Dick

We have the annual festival at my church this weekend. Due to stupid, horrible COVID-19, the festival was altered, offering a limited menu via drive-thru only. And, honestly, we were lucky that we were able to have anything at all. If it were up to me, I would've shrugged and said, "eh, maybe next year". But, really, I'm not trying to pay the mortgage and utilities on a large facility like a church, so what do I know?

Festival, it is!

And just like a good steward of the church, I volunteered. Mostly, I've worked in the kitchen, putting dinners together - socially distancing and wearing PPE. We are doing everything we can to make this event as safe as possible, both for our volunteers and our guests. And I'm pretty freaked out about this disease, so if I say we're being safe, we're being safe.

Today was my first time in front of the public. And my first experience seeing how freaked out other people are. It's not as if I didn't know. I have social media, after all. But I thought we were all decent human beings at the core. We all want to be safe and healthy. And this is a church function, so it'd be reasonable to think people might be nice.

Wrong.

I was taking orders. It was hot. I was wearing a mask. I know that I was. And it was never off my face. However, I admit I can't say that the mask was properly secured at all times for 3 reasons:

A) We were outside
B) It was hot and I was sweaty
C) The mask would slide off my nose

I DO know for a fact that I would reposition the mask when I would get to a new car. And, I maintained social distance. Because, as I said above, I am freaked out about this disease and I will (selfishly) admit, I don't want to get it. So, I'm pretty sure I would do what I can to keep myself safe (even though I know I know, the mask is for other people, not me). But whatever.

When it all came out and our state shut down, I didn't leave the house for 8 whole weeks. We didn't have our weekly family dinner with my parents and siblings because we would be over the 10 people limit. When my neighbor and I walked the neighborhood, one of us was in the street and the other was on the sidewalk.

I've been playing by the damrules.

But today, someone questioned my commitment to playing by these rules. I had just left a car when a woman in the car in front of me yelled out her window that I wasn't wearing my mask and that she had taken 20 pictures of me not wearing my mask and she was going to shut us down.

I was speechless. I mean, who does this?

Look, I get it. We are living in a horrible nightmare of a time. I am afraid for everyone I know. I have mini panic attacks when my husband leaves the house and want to spray him down when he walks in the door. My kids don't see friends. I yell at my parents to stay the fuck home. And even though the lockdown is over, I don't feel safe.

So, she took these 20 pictures and showed them to one policeman who was working security. From what I heard, she showed him, he told her I wasn't breaking any rules (the guidance is "should" wear a mask, not "shall") and to have a nice day. So, what did the lady do? She took his picture, too, for not wearing a mask (he was off duty, btw).

I don't know, maybe it's my type of anxiety that won't allow me to just roll my eyes at the crazy lady and let. shit. go. (Obviously, if I'm thinking enough to write about it.) But, I wasn't breaking any rules, we were at a church function, and this woman now has 20 pictures of me sitting on her phone because it made her feel important. I wasn't even anywhere near her, so it wasn't as if she was afraid for her safety.  To add to that, she ordered food and took it home, so she must not have been too worried. She just wanted to stick her nose in someone else's business.

Was it always this way? Were there always entitled, yet ignorant people in the world, letting everyone know their every feeling at every minute? I know social media has given people a sort of power to say whatever they want to whomever they want. But I'm wondering if everyone was always like this, it is just more obvious nowadays?

Someone at the festival told me that this lady is the epitome of a Karen. And, of course, I know that term, but I decided to look it up. According to Wikipedia (the epitome of truth on the internet, I know), a Karen "demands the world exist according to her standards with little regard for others, and she is willing to risk or demean others to achieve her ends."

This woman is TOTALLY a Karen. I mean, who is she to tell me what I did wrong? She doesn't know me, doesn't know how I feel about keeping people safe. She doesn't really care about that. As long as she gets to do and say whatever she wants.

So, fuck you, Karen. I hope you feel better, you nitwit. And next time, YOU wear a mask.

(Oh, did I forget to mention she wasn't wearing a mask herself? Soooo, yeah, there's that.)

Things I've Learned About Dogs

We've had Rocco almost 2 whole weeks. I think that alone makes me a puppy expert, so I thought I'd impart my wisdom onto the world. If you are thinking about adopting a puppy, this should help make your decision. And remember, you own the puppy, the puppy does not own you.

Yeah, right.

So, here are some things to keep in mind:

1. The liquid on your floor is almost always pee.
2. This is true even if you had just taken your dog outside to pee.
3. Twice within 30 minutes.
4. Puppies have the most energy at 5:30. A.M. 
5. Just like with infants, mothers are somehow the only people who hear when the puppy awakes at 5:30. A.M.
6. Puppies do not allow you to make coffee in the morning.
7. If you try, you will get pee on your floor.
8. Puppies think your hands (feet, clothing, hair) are their own personal chew toy.
9. What's considered "playful" by puppies is actually "painful" by humans.
10. Everyone in the world will want to pet your puppy. Even in this COVID-19 world. 
11. My sister says I am not allowed to Lysol a puppy.
12. Until you housetrain your puppy, you will clean up pee and (ugh, sometimes) poop no less than 5 times a day.
13. Cats are not the only assholes who pee all over the house. Go figure.
14. You will take a million and one pictures of the puppy, in various positions:
• Sleeping
• Sleeping upside down
• Sleeping on its side
• Laying down
• Sitting
• Sitting in your lap
• Eating
• Slow-motion video running (that never works out because he's too fast)
• Playing with your children
• Biting your husband (that one is pretty funny)
15. The cuter the pose, the faster they move from it when you sloooowly reach for your phone. It's like they know.
16. There is a thing I like to call "puppy psycho time", but is actually called "the zoomies", that happens every day around 8 in the evening. No idea what prompts it. 
17. There is also a thing called the "puppy pass-out" that happens right after "puppy psycho time".
18. The person who cleans up after the puppy and, more importantly, feeds the puppy becomes that puppy's "person". 
19. That's me. I'm the Person. 
20. I will not apologize for being the puppy's Person. As soon as one of these assholes I live with wants to take over these duties, they are more than welcome to become the Person. Until then, bugger off.

Oh and one last thing: A puppy who loves belly rubs is the single greatest creature on the planet.

I hope this information has helped as you make your decision to adopt or not. And if you have any questions about how to clean up dog urine, don't call me. I've already had my fill for the day.

So We Got a Dog

As you already know, I am a cat person. Our sweet sweet crazy Zoe went to kitty heaven last March. Since then, we have enjoyed new carpeting and no responsibilities, but also missed the joy a pet can bring. The boys have been asking for a dog for years and since we're in the middle of a pandemic and home all the time, we figured why not?

Meet Rocco. He's 50% Labradoodle, 50% Goldendoodle, and 100% adorable. At 8 weeks, he's a fluffy bundle of energy and joy, with a side of chill. I fell in love with him the moment we met.

#dogmom

But, boy, is he different than a cat. With a cat, you need to give him food, water, and a place to do his business (hopefully, not on your carpet). And then you can basically fuck off for all he needs you.

Not dogs. Dogs are like children. And not necessarily the good part of children. Instead, dogs are the not sleeping, not listening, constantly chasing after them so they don't make a mess/break something/hurt themselves part of children. But, he's damcute, so I will deal. And, just like any child stage, I know this is only for a short time.

We've had him 5 (whole) days. In those 5 days, he has ridden in a car every day, sniffed his doggie cousins, met the neighbors, been manhandled by small children and bullied by big dogs, visited the vet, and been hugged by every single person he's come into contact with. He has that way about him.

The first 4 days were kind of magical if you can believe that. He slept through the night, only had accidents because his owners were stupid, and was basically the chillest dog on the planet. But then something happened on night 4.

He became a toddler.

Now, he doesn't sleep nearly as much, he chews everything, including, but not limited to:

• Appendages
• Hair
• Clothing
• Furniture
• Blankets
• Carpeting
• Shoes
• Shoes
• Shoes
• Mulch
• Grass
• Leaves
• Dead bird carcasses
• Dog. treats. that. he. has. thrown. up.

Last night, he ran around in circles for 10 full minutes. Scared the crap out of me. Especially because he tried to do it underneath the armchair. 

Honestly, I have never had a dog, so I don't even know if this is normal. I'm new to training, I'm new to grooming, I'm new to what type of sniffing means what. I mean, who put me in charge of a dog? I love him so much and would never let anything happen to him, but dang. He is a pain in the ass. To quote my mother, "If he wasn't so cute, he'd be dead."

Juuuuuust kidding, all you PETA people. I love animals more than humans most days.

I'm kind of excited to see how he learns, though. Zoe acted so much like a dog, I feel like a part of this is familiar. So, we'll keep him. And learn to love to redirect his bad habits every 5 minutes and clean up pee and poop every 10 minutes (because his owners are stupid). 

Welcome to the family, pup-a-lump!

"But those weren't my plans." (AKA, when your teenager gets his own life)

So, tonight is New Year's Eve. Every year, since the boys were little, we've hosted a small get together with friends. We spend the evening, in our PJs, eating nothing but cheese and playing cards, while our children run wild in the basement. It's been nice.

But now, my oldest is in high school. And apparently wants his own life.

Back story, one of our closest friends has a son our son's age. And, although they moved a while ago, we have (and the boys have) always been close friends, spending NYE and other evenings together. But, this year, the 15-year-old decided he has other plans.

A few days ago, he asked if he could go to a party. At first, I said no. I am not ready to unleash him into the wild of NYE, I didn't want to figure out how to get him there and home, and his friend was going to be at our house. So, I told him no, we already had plans.

His response: "But those weren't my plans."

This got me thinking. Yes, it's true, he's getting older and has started making his own decisions. And I suppose I have to let him, even though I think I do a much better job. I mean, I would've chosen his friend over the party, obviously. But OK. I get that he doesn't see this friend as often as he sees his other friends and I can kinda-sorta see why he'd want to go to this party. But, we had plans. And he broke them. And when I had to tell my friend, she was rightfully annoyed that, two days before the holiday, her son had to make other plans.

In the end, it all worked out. Her son had been invited to several parties, so switching gears was easier than we'd thought. But she had mentioned to me that it's the end of an era. And I guess I'm sad about that.

2020 is just around the corner. This coming year, my son will be 16. He'll be getting his learner's permit and probably getting a job and a girlfriend and we'll see him less and less. And, even though he refuses to boil his own damn water for pasta (he once said "never mind" when he asked for pasta and I asked him to get the water going), he is going to start doing things for himself.

Mark my words.

I don't really do the resolutions thing. Mine have always been too wide-reaching (e.g. "be better") and I never ever stick to them (apparently, "better" is just too hard to achieve). But this year, I resolve to let my son grow up. He's going to be leaving my house in 3 years; it's time he learns some real independence. Not the "I wanna do what I wanna do" kind of independence, but the "I can survive outside of my mother's house" kind of independence. So, he's going to:

• Do his own laundry (actually, he already does that)
• Change his sheets
• Boil his own damn water for pasta if he wants pasta
• Clean. his. own. bathroom!

Now that I think about it, it's going to be a great year for me. Not for him, for sure, but hey, we can't have everything.

Happy New Year to me (and all of you, of course)!