Parenting Practice?

Dear Lord. In the last few days I feel like I've got a toddler on my hands. In reality, it's just a five-pound canine, but you'd hardly know it.

First, the whole "escaping from the kitchen" escapade. I mean seriously. Does that resemble a tot climbing out of his/her crib at night? Yeah, kind of.

And just this afternoon. I had a nose-to-the-grindstone kind of day, cleaning clips in Vocus for those of you who know what that means! :) So, I let Macy join me. (I know - going against what I said in my previous post in that Macy doesn't get to go to work with me. Hold your criticism - it was just for this afternoon.) At one point I look over and my heart melts. She's sound asleep on her stuffed animals.


(I took a picture to send to my dad because he spontaneously bought her that duck she's perched on.)

Moving on. So, I'm working away. The space heater's going. It's a productive afternoon in the Omaha office. Until I hear Macy gagging and she BARFS ALL OVER MY WHITE CHAIR. No signs. Was perfectly fine, sound asleep. And then WHAMO. Impromptu yellow chunks all over the cushion.

Sweet and no, I did not take a picture of that although I considered it.

And now the cover is in the wash and it was not easy to take off so I am sure I'll never be able to get it back on the cushion. And smart me had cut off the care instructions which I am sure read "dry clean only."

So, yeah. In two days we've got sneaking out and impulsive ralphing. When's she gonna ask to borrow the car and start hiding vodka in her kennel?