Your Dog Is Not a Baby. But My Baby May Very Well Be a Dog.

When I first had Thalia, various child-free friends and neighbors tried to compare notes between my baby and their pets. I understand that they were just trying to relate. But when you're fat and sleep deprived and freaking the hell out about your new life, the last thing you want to hear is that the baby you just carried for the longest 40 weeks of your life and then expelled forcefully from your person and with a moderate amount of pain is pretty much the same as the rat-like King Charles Spaniel down the hall who growls at shoes and licks his own balls.

Thalia is up all night - sometimes every hour. It's driving me nuts.
Yeah, Buster was up all night too. It's sooooo difffffficult.

Thalia swallowed a penny and I'm freaking out. I might have to take her to the doctor.
Oh I understand. I had to take CC to the vet when she ate a coffee bean.

Thalia is starting solids, we're so excited!
Ziggy just tried a new dog food too!

You only think I'm exaggerating.

Truth be told, I probably would have done the same thing before I had kids. In fact, I think I did. Mea culpa.

But now suddenly I'm feeling more forgiving as I realize that Sage may, in fact be part canine.

The facts:

-Crawls around on all fours with toys with her mouth
-Finds toys under the couch them brings them to us
-Likes to have her belly rubbed
-Eats food off the floor
-Happy to pee on the living room floor
-Eats dog food
-Smelly farts

You be the judge.



On a separate note Sage is now sleeping through the night. (Yippee!) Thank you for all the supportive comments and suggestions and thank you, anonymous anti-CIO internet trolls for sitting this one out. If only Thalia wasn't getting up at midnight every night now and coming into bed with us. Gee, this parenting thing isn't one big happy picnic all the time like they promised in the brochure, is it.