We’re fostering one of the sweetest well behaved foster puppies I’ve run across and something unexpected that has happened, besides the kids’ noses running nonstop, there has been there’s no way for them to accomplish any task whatsoever anymore.
None. An hour today to get them dressed and somewhat fed (one bite of toast and a banana – twenty to thirty minutes for that,) asking 7 times for anything, literally like dealing with two extremely high potheads and it’s partially because the instant the dog walks by they’re switching into “no dog,” “let me explain dog,” “good dog,” “here’s a dissertation on why this can’t happen, dog.”
Did you brush your teeth? Yes, no, yes, no. No I didn’t – walks into bathroom comes out arguing with dog. Did you brush your teeth? Long story about dog. Shut it and brush your teeth. Repeat two or three times. We hope the teeth are brushed at this point. It took between three and seven times per child.
It’s been interesting, our last foster was a disaster. Think 2.5 hours a day spent cleaning up and a dog that could never calm down (serious abuse I’m expecting, and we’re not capable of handling that with two kids who can’t remain calm or speak in anything lower volume than a jumbo jet taking off,) that doggo destroyed two cages in three weeks, couldn’t see a man without peeing everywhere (major problem as I’m a man.) It was cold and raining for the entire time so guess who got to spend an hour attempting to get the doggo drained, children screaming as she jumped and peed on everything causing her to jump and pee on things.
This one however, other than very badly aimed kisses and a little bit of a napoleon complex around other dogs, has been ideal. I mean seriously, as doggos go this one’s like easy mode.
Oh, but the allergies.
I’m wondering now if it’s the antihistamines or the dog now that I’m at this paragraph. Kids have both completely developed no ability to complete a task. Any task. Both want to tell long meandering stories about six different things about dogs, space, and school, and all we want is them to put the damned shoes on. We wake up every morning with enough time to do things and since doggo they can’t even get to the point of any non-getting ready step. Normal prep time – 25 minutes, includes about 10 minutes for them to get a morning pre-school show in. Today 56. No entertainment, no time to even play with the dog because no task was able to be accomplished.
Simple set of instructions to the oldest – wake up, do not let the dog out of crate, come wake us up, we will get dog out of crate and walk ends up 14 pounds of sharp-nailed foster dog enthusiastically stepping on my face to wake me. “Eat your toast” becomes a slow paced walking marathon that involves holding toast where dog can see it and commentary on why the dog can’t have people food and a proclamation to all dog kind that this is not for them, nay, the noble peanut butter honey toast is for a different class of mammal. One bite. Yesterday the youngest took three freaking hours to eat a small plate of food.
Our 5yo holding a piece of toast like Mjolnir over her head becoming Peanut Butter Thor has been one notable highlight.
It’s day three. I think today’s the day we hand off Jackson. He’s been awesome. We’ve now got to get the kids allergy tested at this point because I’m not going to take a $2,000 a year pay cut for dog maintenance, throw on an additional two potentially allergy zombie children who will, based on the past two days, take an additional two or three weeks of my life per year requesting that they get their god damned shoes on.
I mean seriously.