I Am Not a Dog

After the first year of unsuccessful fertility treatments, I fell into a slight depression. I didn’t understand how teenagers without a pot to piss in or a window to throw it out of could rub against a guy behind the bleachers could conceive and I couldn’t. During it all, my husband was a trooper. He dried my tears, pretended to listen to all my rants, administered injections; you name it and on our third wedding anniversary he brought home a tan colored, pug.

I fell in love instantly. I named him Uno, after all he was my first baby. I spoiled him rotten. He had a drawer full of polo shirts, a car seat and the best Vet I could find. I was content and we stopped fertility treatments, took a vacation and came home pregnant.

Now Uno is great with kids, but I should have named him Velcro because he insists on physically touching me at all times. After dealing with a toddler and an infant all day, sometimes his neediness is a little too much to bear. But the most irritating is his passive aggressive, don’t forget me eyes as I am trying to wolf down my dinner before someone needs more juice, another napkin, to go potty or a diaper changed.

Usually, my response to him, however unconventional is “get out of my face.” Now Morgan has never heard me speak like that to a human being. And despite all the folks that know about her momma’s neck rolling and occasional hood moments; she is completely unaware. Well one day my darling daughter that I adore, had worked my last nerve and was demanding my attention, although she’d had it all day. In a desperate plea for a moment of silence and peace, I made a mommy mistake. Don’t judge me, but I told my beautiful baby girl, to get out of my face.

At that moment, without hesitation and with a slight attitude to match my frustration, my baby said with one hand on hip “I am not a dog.” My husband looked confused and asked her what she said. She repeated, “I am not a dog. Mommy, don’t talk to me like that cause I am not a dog.”

At that moment, I realized that she associated that phrase “get out of my face” with how I speak to the dog and she also was very clear in reminding me of the difference. Checkmate, my 2-year-old had made her point and I owed her an apology; one I willingly and freely gave. Who said you can’t learn something from a toddler. One thing for sure, I have never parted my lips to say that to anyone again, including the dog.  I am thankful for forgiveness. I am grateful for new beginnings of each day to be a better parent than the day before.

I am Not a Dog


8 thoughts on “I Am Not a Dog

  1. LOVE it! I can picture your Little Miss right now. This is a reminder for me to watch what I say in front of the kids, even when I think they are not listening…and to also be nicer to my first baby-the four legged one who thinks he matters rhe most!

  2. Such a great reminder of how even in our most frustrated moment, we must make sure we think before we speak. I am a new Mom, and a fairly new wife. SOMETIMES things get hectic. I usually hold everything in, which is not the answer either….anyway Great blog!

    • I absolutely love the name Zari. Great choice. Sometimes things get hectic is an understatement. They are always hectic and it’s a tough job as mommy and wife to keep it all together. Please try to find an outlet, don’t hold it in or you will explode

  3. I loved it! Loved it. As I respond tears of laughter are still just a flowing. I can imagine the expression on Morgan’s face with that hand on her hip. If she was just a little older she probably would have used the old saying “Mommy you talk to me just like a dog”! I hope you have a way of saving your blogs to share with her when she’s much older. Never a dull moment. I love the picture of Morgan and Uno together. Keep up the godd work.

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