Babies on Doggy Steroids

I haven't written in forever, and it is high time I get back on the saddle because I do find writing to be therapeutic and a great outlet for me. I also do not want to disappoint all 4 of my readers!

But seriously I do know that it's annoying when you check a blog regularly and they haven't posted in forever...what's hard for me is that I tend to write about just everyday, mundane happenings in my life, and quite frankly, at 31 weeks pregnant, there ain't a whole lot of anything going on casa de Taylor, mundane or exciting. I tend to drool over all the gorgeous fashion choices on pinterest, from the turquoise suede heels to the fabulous sequined dresses. I even let myself click on them, to get me the website, where I can further torture my soul about the pretty clothes and accessories that me buying would be exactly equivalent to putting lipstick on a pit bull. It might dress things up a bit but there's still just a pit bull.

If this analogy is too dumb, what I'm trying to say is that when you're 8 months pregnant there's really nothing else one can do except waddle around in disgusting over sized clothing with coffee and yogurt stains and hope the varicose veins that have formed on the right thigh are just a naughty dream you'll wake up from. There's a point at around 4-5 months where you finally get a really cute looking bump, your hair is pretty glossy, and for like 2-4 seconds you kinda feel pretty. It was during this time that I thought I would try to find a new accessory that could become my pregnant "thing."

I first tried the scarf. I love scarves. I think they can really jazz up an outfit and I thought they might help to cover up my enormous and growing milk factory jugs boobs. Unfortunately this had to be stopped dead in it's tracks when sweat began dripping down off my forehead because it's literally 95 degrees with 10,000 percent humidity in Florida. I next tried the fedora. You know, the cute French Parisian hats that scream "I'm so fashionable, yes of course I just grabbed this on my way out the door a la Kate Moss." I have seen hundreds of pictures of adorable Sienna Miller strutting down the streets of London in these and she just looks so together. Well unfortunately I look more like John Mayer than Sienna Miller in a fedora, so that was $9.98 spent at Target I'll never see again.

You know you have reached a low point when even your pajamas don't fit, and I'm not buying special maternity pajamas for this last 9 weeks of hell pregnancy bliss. Since even my underwear literally do not fit my body comfortably, I have been forced to wear the only thing that works, an enormous tshirt of my husbands along with my almost-nightly staple, my knee-high black compression socks to prevent swelling. Now there's a picture I have painted for you that you did not expect and will not be able to get out of your head for ours, you're welcome! My poor husband will probably spend the next decade trying to erase this image of me from his mind.

Despite the fact that I literally spend zero seconds on my appearance aside from teeth brushing and deodorant applying (once in awhile I spritz a questionably old Bath and Body works vanilla spray), I have still managed to fall deeper and deeper into a parental guidance hole that can only be described as "Let's just survive this together, ok buddy?" There have been a few sequences of events in the last few months that I would love to blame on pregnancy brain (not sure this is real but sure feels like it), a hangover (don't miss these but sure miss the events leading up to them), or just narcolepsy, but it's so hard to get comfortable I don't really remember what sleeping feels like.

Just yesterday, I went to the bathroom for what could not have been longer than 25 seconds, and in that time Brooks ate a green crayon. A friend posted on my facebook wall that her son too ate a green crayon, but thankfully, Crayola was non-toxic. Unfortunately these were the free crayons from the Publix grocery store tour we just took, so I'm sure these crayons were labeled extra toxic, who knows, I didn't look before giving them to my 22 month old. Luckily I had a sweet friend coming to watch him while I went to a baby shower, so I quickly scrubbed his teeth to get off as much green wax as I could and sprinted out the door to normal civilization where I could pretend I was the type of mom whose child would never dream of eating a crayon and would only color inside the lines with such a thing.

Now this next story is a little worse than toxic crayon wax, and I'm only revealing it to the public at large because I think we moms need to stick together and reveal these kinds of stories so we know that yes, we will survive, and although we may not be Joan the Super Nanny we are probably doing much better at the whole parenting thing than we thought and it's all going to be just fine.

About 6 weeks ago I watched my moms dog for her so she could travel to see my grandparents in Ohio and not leave him at the doggy day care for too long. His name is Grady and I have to say, he's the cutest and sweetest overweight King Charles Cavalier and really couldn't be easier as far as dogs go. All he needs is a little love and a couple of walks a day and he's pretty set. Well, when I picked him up from the vet for his stay at our house, I was given instructions on his medicine for his glaucoma (am I the only one that didn't know dogs can get glaucoma?) He was on several drops and a steroid. After day 1 I could tell Grady wasn't going to take the steroid without a little help so on day 2 I put the steroid pills inside a huge heap of peanut butter on the kitchen floor for Grady and went to the bathroom as we were about to leave the house for some errands.

When I walked out of the bathroom, again 20 seconds later (Yes I'm seeing the recurring theme, I will stop peeing when Brooks is awake), I was horrified to see Brooks crouched on the ground next to the dog, peanut butter covering both of them completely, and one steroid pill missing. Hmmmmm. Yes. There is a chance that the dog ate the pill. There is also a chance that my 21 month old just ate a steroid pill laced with some peanut butter covered in dog slobber. What's the REALLY funny part is I will never know. We all survived that doggy steroid day, and just in case the child protective people research crazy people's blogs for  warning signs, I am going to post a picture of the little nugget today to prove he's still alive and getting into mischief (see pen drawing on leg).