Prior to MS's birthday, at the end of September, we had no pets to speak of (long sigh, remembering how peaceful that was - ah, who am I foolin'? it wasn't even peaceful without pets). MS has been begging and begging for some pet. I thought they were going for a rabbit, but they came home with two mice. They asked for two females but received a couple. It wasn't long before the Mrs. Mouse was very plump.
Then along came these:
Now they are almost fully weaned and we are hoping to take the ten babies back to the pet store before Mrs. Mouse bursts forth with another litter (she is due any day, I'd say).
Then, of course, there's Harley. We have already been threatening to get rid of him because the two little boys tease and provoke him mercilessly. MS loves to lift Harley's front paws and make him dance. Only problem ... he thinks the dog won't mind dancing like that for minutes instead of seconds. YS drapes his entire body over the dog, whenever he finds him lying on the floor or couch. I think he believes he could ride him like a horse, if only Mom wouldn't flip out about it so much.
The boys are very much in love with this dog. Mom and Dad ... not so much.
We should have gotten a few ZhuZhu pets. It would have required less money, less work, and less patience.
Still, I can't complain about even the most minimal steps in responsibility which my boys are taking. YS loves to fill the dog's food bowl (he scoops a cup from the bag and dumps it in the food bowl - no more food in the water bowl, thank goodness). This afternoon, when I was putting YS down for a nap, MS took it upon himself to attach the dog's leash and take him out to go potty. He even wiped the dog's paws off with the towel when they came back in. ES often offers to spray the dog with a deodorizing spray and brush out his coat in the mornings.
And speaking of deodorizing ... YS decided to try my deodorant this morning. He came to me and said, "Mommy, I need to brush my teeth cuz' I ATE that stuff that goes under your arms." Yippee-skippee! Life with a two year old. I called Poison control and they said the worst that could happen is vomiting. We managed to get through it without that.
Lord, watch over the brood of 17 that are in my care. And, please, give me an extra dose of patience. Remember, Lord, I'm an OLD mommy, in my mid-forties!