Doodle Dog Fears

I have been thinking lately about Big Doodle Dog being scared of seemingly stupid things, and being blatantly not scared of things he should actually be scared of.

So, without further ado, here is Big Doodle Dog's Big List of Safe vs. Dangerous. Take notes.

So, there you have it. Big Doodle Dog isn't the brightest marker in the package. Oh well.

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No, we don't let him out onto the main road on purpose. But sometimes he just goes there. And stands in front of cars like a deer in headlights while Doodle Mama has five heart attacks.

Also, he doesn't really fit under our bed, but he would probably hide there if he could. Plus he just looks cute under there.

Do your pets have any irrational fears?

Poop-splosion!!!

Hi All,

When I first started this blog (way, way back in November), I was pretty pumped about it and I just knew I would write at LEAST two posts per week. And so I did. The first week. Then I realized that I am actually really lazy. So don't expect too much. At least not until the holidays are over.

Anyway.

Here is the long-awaited story of the airplane poop-splosion (okay, so the title kind of gives away the punch-line, but it's still a humorous tale):

About a month ago, we took Doodle Baby on her first plane flight. We were flying to the wonderful state of Oregon, which is a very respectable distance away from where we live. The flight takes about 4.5 hours, a daunting amount of time to be trapped on a plane with a 5-month-old. Being first-time parents, Doodle Dad and I were understandably nervous. We of course imagined a nightmare scenario with Doodle Baby crying (nay, screaming) for the ENTIRE flight, and us getting side-eyed to death by our fellow passengers.

In an attempt to prevent such a scenario, I did a little research, and discovered that most babies cry on take-off and landing because their ears pop. So, one should try to feed them during those times to get them to swallow and prevent said ear-poppage. Got it. I was nursing exclusively at this point, so I was mildly apprehensive about feeding Doodle Baby on the plane, but I knew I had a window-seat and would use my nursing cover for added discreetness. Besides, I would rather get side-eyed by a couple of people who might notice me nursing and might disapprove, than to get side-eyed by the entire plane for having a loudly screaming baby.

Now, jump to the scene of the crime. We have successfully gate-checked the stroller and lugged our thirty pounds of just-in-case-baby-needs-it-crap and Doodle Baby onto the plane. We are seated and I have my nursing cover ready to go. Doodle Baby is in a good mood and is blowing raspberries at the stewardesses and passengers, who all seem to be enamored with her. So far, so good. I become cautiously optimistic.

They close the plane doors, and we push off. Headed down the tarmac. I get my nursing cover on, not wanting to miss the key time to latch Doodle Baby on to prevent ear poppage. Still moving towards the runway...Okay, prepare to nurse!

But then...

We stop.

We are informed there will be a short delay, but are assured that whatever's going on will be resolved quickly and we will be taking off momentarily. We are, of course, to remain seated with seat belts fastened.

Ok, just a little delay, we can handle this. Doodle Baby is starting to fuss a little, but we are still holding strong.

When suddenly...

Oh no. Really Doodle Baby? You poop, like, 3 times a week, and you choose this moment? Really?

I quietly alert Doodle Dad to the situation. He remains calm. We will just wait until we take off and take her to the bathroom to change her. No big deal. At least she's not screaming.

But then...

Uh oh, she pooped some more, and it's starting to smell. Great. Try to remain calm! We will be taking off soon and then we can change her. Just relax.

We finally start moving again. Yes! we are going to take off soon and it will all be okay. By this time, Doodle Baby is starting to radiate little stink lines. Since the plane is finally moving, presumably making progress toward actually becoming airborne sometime in the next century, I start to re-position her in preparation for nursing. But as soon as I touch her leg I feel it.

Shit.
Literally.

Yes, she has blown out her diaper and there is poo all over her bare leg and my hand (it was quite warm so she didn't have pants on). But that's not all. There is also poo on my leg, and (I am so sorry to say) on the seat!

Mayday! Mayday! I try to keep some composure as I urgently but discreetly alert Doodle Dad that the situation has gone from a code red to a code BROWN. As in, brown shit all over everything. Doodle Dad jumps to the rescue by pulling thirty thousand wet-wipes out of the diaper bag and throwing them at me and Doodle Baby.

Working together, we get the stray poo issue somewhat under control. We still need to actually change Doodle Baby's diaper though, which will be a little trickier.

The good news is that the pilot has chosen this very moment to finally take off. I begin to panic because I am so worried about nursing Doodle Baby during take off. Doodle Dad points out that we HAVE to change the diaper now, it is non-optional, especially since by this point Doodle Baby's stink lines have probably made it to the cockpit (which is likely what made the pilot finally decide to take off...'must get airborne so those idiot parents can get up and change their stinky kid').

As the plane takes off, I am frantically trying to get Doodle Baby to nurse while keeping myself covered. Simultaneously, Doodle Dad is trying to quickly and discreetly change her poo-filled diaper, in my lap, without allowing any more feces to escape. As you can imagine, we are both sweating balls. For her part, Doodle Baby is squirming and fussing and not cooperating with either of us.

What seems like an eternity later, but is really probably only about 5 minutes, the situation is back under control. Doodle Baby has a clean diaper and is nursing quietly. Even though there are probably trace amounts of fecal matter on every surface in a 3-foot radius, Doodle Dad and I breath a sigh of relief. We sort of glance around to see if anyone is heavily side-eyeing us, but everyone seems to be going about their business as usual. Whew.

Then the beverage cart comes.

So, I guess our seat-mate must have noticed our predicament. Really, how could he not have? As you well know, airplane seats are very cosy. Our friend didn't realize he had paid $500 for a front row seat in the poo-splash zone! Ah well, at least he was a nice guy and didn't glare at us. Doodle Dad got his drink, and the rest of the flight went smoothly.

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Do you have any funny baby/kid on-a-plane stories?

Living with an older dog

So, little doodle dog also happens to be a little OLD doodle dog. She is 10 years old, so about 70 in dog years. I'm sure many of you can relate that life with an elderly canine can often be very...interesting.

First of all, her hearing has definitely gotten worse...

...or possibly just more selective...

Little old doodle dog has a habit of hanging out in the kitchen while I am cooking. She stares intently at the floor around my feet hoping to see something edible drop.

The problem is that her vision has gotten so bad that half the time she doesn't notice when something finally does drop.

She can no longer jump onto the couch or the bed so she demands to be lifted up. But she only ever wants to lay on the couch when I am laying down for a nap and only when I am JUST about to fall asleep.

Just ignore it, she will give up eventually!

But she never does.

And the baby will be awake soon, so just lift her up and then you can fall asleep.

Ahh, that's better. And she is kind of warm on my feet. Now, to catch a few ZZZ's...


...three minutes later, little old doodle dog hears a noise that could possibly be a scary intruder...

...never mind, it was just the washing machine...it doesn't really matter anyway because she decides that she didn't want to lay on the couch after all. She wanted to lay in her doggie bed on the floor. She does so.

Ok good, no more interruptions, time for some rest. Just. About. To. Fall. Asleep...

...at which point, little old doodle dog inevitably decides that she DOES want to lay on the couch after all.

...and then the baby wakes up. "Nap" time is officially over. Great.

And finally, the absolute best part about life with an older dog: the disturbing increase in number of vet visits, and subsequent bills.

Poor little bugger, I hope they figure out why she has <insert random old dog symptom here>. I'm sure she will be feeling better soon!

Then I go to check out...

Um, excuse me? I mean, I love my dog and all, but...what? I mean, I have a kid now! How do I justify spending this much on our little old dog when our human baby needs to go to college someday?

But, invariably, I fork over the dough. Because how can I not? She was, after all, my first baby. Just because she has fur and eats poop doesn't mean I can neglect her needs.

So, that, my friends, is life with little old doodle dog. Stay tuned for more, because she is getting older by the day, and her bowels are bound to give out at some point. Which will be horrible for all involved, but will likely make for good bloggy material.

Do you have any funny older pet stories? 
Preferably involving poo.

Meet The Doodles

Welcome to the Doodle Farm!

Full disclosure: this blog is a shameless copy-cat of this far-superior-and-way-more-hilarious blog: http://crappypictures.com/. Seriously, that shiz is crazy funny. Check it out.

At first I was a little conflicted about copying the hand-drawn pictures blog idea, but then i realized, 1) there are a lot of similar types of cooking blogs, fitness blogs, mommy blogs, etc, so why can't there be more than one "my so-called, poorly illustrated life" blog? 2) imitation is the sincerest form of flattery 3) no one will probably read my blog anyway. So here goes.

Well here we are:

Yup, just a happy little family of three. Doodle Mama, Doodle Dad, and Doodle Baby. Doodle Baby is very special to us because she knows how to levitate, as you can see.

But wait, there's more. We have animals. Lots of animals.

We have two canines:

Big Doodle Dog and Little Doodle Dog. Little Doodle Dog rules the roost around here. She sleeps on the bed and eats poop when she goes outside. Big Doodle Dog knows better than to mess with that shiz.

We also have 9 Doodle Chickens:

I drew three and got bored so here are three of our chickens. Our evil rooster's name is McJagger, and that's just too cool to doodle-ify, so he will remain McJagger. You can call the rest of the chickens the Doodle Hens. The Doodle Hens are pretty cool because they lay eggs for us. Actually, they probably aren't thinking about us when they lay the eggs. But we steal them anyway. Suckaz. Some of our hens lay brown eggs and some of our hens lay blue eggs. Blue. For reals.

The doodle hens are probably my favorite pets because we can borderline neglect them and they still give us food. It's pretty cool. They also put up with the evil McJagger's constant and forceful advances on a daily basis, not to mention shooting an egg out their bums every 24-48 hours. Respect, ladies.

Next on the farm, we have the two Doodle Horses (which are really just 1200 lb. lawn ornaments that eat a lot and poop a lot. We hardly ever ride them, but they do add a certain aesthetic appeal to the place. Mostly via large piles of feces.)

And finally, last but not least, we also have a happy little hive of bees:

They haz honey and they don't care to share. Mostly we leave them alone. Sometimes Doodle Dad checks in on them to see how the honey production is going. They get very angry and try to sting him. We haven't collected any honey yet.

So there you have it, the Doodle Farm. Stay tuned for good old fashioned farmy antics. Or at least some  kind of antics. Or shenanigans. Or hooligans. Bye.