Sprite's Keeper

Good Boy

"Sprite, stop cornering Harry!"

I stepped behind her, her own back never turning, as she stared down at the snarling terrier. This would not end well.

Sprite has been Harry's nemesis for years now, taking on the title of foe right around the time she began crawling and he realized she was coming after HIM. Blue, our beagle, could care less about how heavy handed her love is, as long as she gets love, she'll take it in whatever form. Harry though? He's smart. And has a Napoleon complex, so his ego is pretty big too.

His eyes locked on her, Harry continued growling as I grabbed Sprite's arm and pulled the laughing child out of his personal space and turned her to face me. "Sprite, you know he doesn't like that."

Sprite's eyes danced with mirth, her plan of attack still not aborted. "Harry needs a hug!" She then pulled away from me to face her opponent once more.

Harry showed his teeth now, not happy with her refusal to back down.

I needed to do something or he would have a coronary with the stress of it all. But what? Strong-arm her out of the kitchen?

"Harry, bad boy!"

Sprite whirled around to look at me. I didn't meet her eyes as I put on my best mean face and berated the dog for basically sitting there. "Harry, that was very naughty! Go to time out!"

Harry hung his head and moved out of the kitchen, heading for the entry rug where Sprite usually spends her solitary confinement. He then sat gingerly, looking back up at me.

The damn dog had gone to time out!

At a loss for what to do next, I just pointed at him. "Three minutes."

Sprite, not wanting to associate with the canine criminal since that would mean getting intimate with the time out mat, moved on to wrangling Blue as Harry stayed within the "prison walls" and yawned, finally safe.

"You're welcome," I remarked, walking back into the kitchen to start dinner, pausing quickly by my purse to grab the camera and document the moment for prosperity's sake, and the fact that John would surely not believe it when I told him.

Good boy, Harry.
 

Aftermath

Just two hours after declaring a sick day:

 

The "under the weather" toddler's room is destroyed.

 

The sock drawer is broken into.

 

Pairs are cruelly yanked apart after minutes spent matching them together.

 

Certain dogs who know better take advantage of the parental figure's assumed ambivalence and decide to convalesce on clean sheets doled out by the "sick" child.

 

The parental figure can only gaze at the toddler's pull out couch and spend some time trying to devise a way to relax comfortably on it while the "woefully ill" toddler continues their spree of chaos.

 

Does this toddler, interrupted in her quest to potty train Tigger, look sick to you?

 

Didn't think so.

Video Killed The Radio Star

John and I ran across this last night. We both had a pretty good laugh at it and thought it was worth sharing.

 Please understand, no animal was in any danger during the filming of this video, back when Sprite was 2 months old. I was kidding when I said it. (Yes I was.)

(Was too.)

Napoleon Complex

"He's got the whole world.."

 

So, we finally found a use for this hazard  "toy".

Harry enjoyed a few rounds of fetch before making quick work of destroying the stress ball. I guess it couldn't handle the pressure. Of Harry's teeth. (Ironic?) (No, more like rubberic.) (Or maybe rubberish.) (I know it's "rubbish", but it's the weekend! Live a little!)

Airee Accusations

Ahem. Good morning, everyone. My name is Harrison, affectionately known as Harry, although the kid refers to me as "Airee." I let it slide. For now.

I have been living with Sprite since my owners brought her home a little more than a year and a half ago. Since then, Blue and I have been subjected to torture on a regular basis at the hands of this pint sized, pinching, hitting, biting, toy stealing toddler, who on a daily basis continues to charm my owners into thinking she's some sort of miniature Einstein.

I can no longer sit quietly and allow this to happen. The kid is getting way too much credit for being a kid. Just look at this display of completely normal toddler behavior and the copious amounts of digital film wasted on her.

There she is, just sitting in her high chair, trying to snap the restraints into place and then take them out. That's it. She spent a good hour doing this, crying when they tried to take her out of the chair, and getting her way when they relented and allowed her to disobey their authority until bedtime.

My owners grabbed the camera and proceeded to get several angles of her snapping and unsnapping the restraint.

Snapping..

Unsnapping..

Wait! Don't forget the look of concentration!

There's more, but I'm starting to bore MYSELF here.

Oh, and get this! They're high fiving her for teaching herself how to escape the very restraints put there for her own safety! They might as well show her where they store the matches!

That's right. Clap on about your little accomplishments. You go on thinking you're all that and a bag of Milk Bones. I'd like to see you catch a ball thrown 50 yards.

Is it all about cute? Is that what she thinks is making her so popular? Well, look at that. See? I can do cute.

Is this what my life is going to be? A side dish forced to live quietly in her main entree shadow? I used to be the star. Yeah, Blue's there too, but I'm the brains in this operation and this diaper wearing diva has stolen all my attention, affection, and accolades, not to mention my space on the bed.

I am using this blog to call attention to this mis-use of praise and manipulation of attention and expose her for what she really is:

A toddler.

Thank you. Have a good day.

Oh, um, can you let me out really quick? I gotta go.

...............................................................................

Blue: What'd I miss?

Neat and Tidy Boxes

This entire job thing has had me wired.

John is doing everything he can and more to make our lives a little more stable, so this is more about me than anything else.

I just want to clean.

That's right. I want to clean. My house. Hell, I'll clean your house if you don't mind me yelling at you for spilling something on the freshly mopped floors afterwards. And take your shoes off! Where do you think the dirt is coming from anyway?!

Last night, when I got home with the child, I shoved some food into her mouth, then shoved her, still chewing, into John's arms and banished them both into John's office/man cave, pausing in the slamming of the door for the briefest of seconds to make sure Blue's tail didn't get caught as she and Harry were forced in as well.

Once my hostages were secured, I attacked. The floors.

They needed it anyway, so I'm glad I was inspired enough to tackle such a project. (Think about it. A wood floor, a Beagle, a Yorkie/Rat terrier, and a toddler who likes to share her food with certain canines in the direct vicinity. Such a combination makes for necessary daily swipes with the Swiffer, but the Swiffer went on strike a couple of months ago and we're not negotiating. So, it's good old mopping now.) (My arms need the workout anyway.) 

I swept, I vacuumed, I mopped. The floors never got such TLC. I went to sleep last night feeling somewhat calm and wishing we had some guests over, if only to see the clean floors.

I woke up this morning and eyed our bathroom. "You're next", I whispered as I got ready for work.

Talking with a co-worker this morning, I described my latest urges and documented the almost frenzied Martha Stewart hour I had endured and enjoyed last night. My co-worker looked at me and said, "Well, Jen. That's just you. You like everything in its place. Your desk is like that here. Everything is in neat and tidy boxes. You're just trying to make yourself feel better while John is looking for a job."

I swallowed her words and pondered the aftertaste. I get it. This is about control.

John was laid off on Tuesday. I have no control over that. Neither does he. So, I am amping up my efforts on what I can control. I can control the clutter in my house. I'm almost anal about it. Now, it's taken on a compulsive life of its own while we're still reeling from the job issue.

I hate uncertainty. I have no control over it. That's why I hate it. I have no control over death. That's why I fear it. I have no control over John's employment status. That's why I obsess over it.

I have control over how clean my house is. That's why I revel in it.

The unknown scares the hell out of me. There are people out there who throw all caution to the wind and take chances, even if they know the wind may steer them into inclement weather. I am not one of those people.

I am a planner. I am a list maker. I am a list checker. I am realistic with a healthy dose of pessimism.

We're all on this path of life. When things like a loss of a job or the loss of a family member or the uncertainty of war, economy, gas prices (You see where this is going..) throw a blanket of fog over the path, we can't see what's ahead, even with the help of high beams. Our steps become more uncertain as we weigh the obvious choices. We can keep walking the path, even though we may take a wrong step and plunge into the abyss, or we can stop altogether and try to wait for the fog to clear, even though this may delay chances we need to take to keep us on the path in the first place.

John is forging ahead on his path, armed with his resume and his warm personality which won me over almost a decade ago.

I just hope he doesn't mind me cleaning up a little after him.

(If they made an Air Wick candle with a bleach smell, I would be ALL over that.)

Count on Airee

"Wahn."

"Too."

"Fee."

"Foh."

"Airee." (It seems Harry has taken 5's place for now, but we're considering it an upgrade because she used to insert her own name into the 4 slot. It's progress, people!)

Top Airee Reasons I love Sprite's daycare:

Wahn- They are teaching Sprite to count to 10 and she's catching on to it pretty well. We can now hear her muttering the mantra to herself in the wee hours when she wakes up. (She sounds happy, dry too, it's still dark outside, and we're tired, so...zzzzzzzzzzz)

Too- She can actually recognize some of the numbers and identify them correctly which will benefit her in the future when all them numbers come with grading scales, so I'm pretty sure the daycare is behind this as well.

Fee- They've taught Sprite "Itsy Bitsy Spider" dance moves which has her impressing the hell out of all our relatives. We may send her on the road with this act. (Her encore will be "Head Shoulders Knees and Toes" since we found out just a week ago she knows this one too..)

Foh- She can now name most of her classmates so some of her gibberish actually has a subject even if most of the verbs and prepositions are still Sprite-talk. This helps us so when she looks happy or upset, we can tell if she's crushing on Bryce or just wants to crush him.

Airee- She's so happy there and we're happy she's happy. Amen.

(You totally thought this post was going to be all about Harry and Blue, didn't you?)

(Yes you did.)

Once Upon A Sprite

Sprite: Okay, Airee and Blue. I'm going to read you a story. You have to stay there.

Blue: Right here?

Airee: Whatever.

Sprite: Once upon a time, there was a princess.

Blue: Was it a real princess?

Airee: Or one of those Disney princesses who had to marry their way into the title?

 

Sprite: ...It doesn't say, but that doesn't matter. Anyway, once upon a time, there was a princess who lived in a castle surrounded by lots of tall magical trees.

Blue: What kind of tall trees?

Sprite: I don't know. They were tall magical trees. That's all it says.

Airee: Yes, but some tall trees are more magical than others, like the dogwood tree.

Blue: Hm, you bring a good point to the table.

Sprite: ANYWAY, she lived in-

Airee: You know, while the dogwood has its merits, you can't take credit away from the birch which -

Sprite: Excuse me! I am trying to read you a story and I can't seem to get more than 2 sentences in before you interrupt me!

Blue: Sorry. Go on.

Airee: (Yawn.)

Sprite: Onceuponatimetherewasaprincesswholivedinacastlesurroundedbylotsofmagicaltrees and the princess was very lonely for she had very long hair and a witch had locked her inside the castle with a magic spell-

Airee: HEARD IT.

Blue: Kid, that story is older than Repunzel.

Sprite: Fine. Be that way. I have another story I think you'll want to hear.

Airee: Go for it, kid.

Sprite: Once upon a time, there was a little girl named Sprite who had all the dog treats in the house and she threw away every dog treat except one. This one.

Blue: Touche.

Airee: You have our attention..

Stroller Derby

This is fun!

It's not too small.

 

See? Happy over here. Not too small. No, my smile is not forced.

....Not forced at all. Um, is the camera off?

Okay, I'd like to get out now.

Ow, now, now, now! My back!

No, not back! Get me out of this! It's not fun anymore!

Oy, that's gonna hurt come morning..

Maybe this stroller is meant for someone smaller. Airee will want to ride in it. He'll fit. Airee! Airee, where are you? Come for a ride. You can be the baby!

Seriously?

This is a Bib

This is a bib.

This is a bib that caused a tantrum and is being taken away due to the child trying to put the bib around the beagle's neck which would have cut off her air supply.

This is the lack of the bib that caused the tantrum that is now increasing in volume, because the bib was taken away due to the child trying to put the bib around the beagle's neck which would have cut off her air supply.

This is the bib being brought back to the tantrum thrower in an effort to wave the white flag and bring peace back to the room.

This is a beagle. We warned her about the tantrum the child suffered due to the bib being taken away since the child was trying to put the bib around the beagle's neck which would have cut off her air supply.

The beagle is taking her chances...