Some Progress...and a Few Setbacks

Well, our 14 year old Dachsund peed on the tile floor again tonight. I was busy doing laundy and he never gave me any signs. The good news is that when Max saw it on the floor, he actually walked around it instead of splashing around in it like it was a puddle from a spring rain.

Two days ago I was playing outside with Max when I received an anticipated phone call from my doctor's office. I was on the phone for about 8 minutes. During that time, Max climbed the retaining wall and went back into the "forbidden zone" to confiscate the poop scoopers. I was actually smiling when I saw that he had picked up some of little Fred's poops and had put them in the scooper quite nicely. Then suddenly, as things things always seem to occur, and while I'm still smiling, he reaches down and picks one up and tries to taste it. Well, I started screaming, shrieking or whatever you want to call my panicked shouts of "NOOOOOOOO!!! PUT THAT DOWN!!!! YUCKY!!!!!," as I ran to him and quickly removed him from the scene. We rushed into the bathroom to wash hands and I rinsed out his mouth and wiped it off. I wished I had some mouthwash or something. Blech!!!

I guess that's why this blog is called "poop in hand." Maybe I should change it to "poop in mouth."

Our First Fight

I've recently experienced my first fight with Max. We were gardening in the front yard when some visitors of our next door neighbor showed up...with children. Max doesn't understand that he can't just join any ole' family, just because they have kids. So as he tried to follow them, I had to retrieve him. He was not happy at all. Because he would not stay nearby and kept trying to take off after them, I told him he was having a little "bedroom time." Bringing him indoors proved to be an unforgivable sin, in his eyes. I put him in his room and I could hear him screaming, crying and chewing me out the whole time. After several minutes I asked him if he was ready to come out and he yelled back at me, "no mommy, go way!!!"" and continued to chew me out. He was ranting and raving and although I could not decipher his words, I was quite attuned to their meaning. I asked several more times and he answered the same way. I had never seen him react so strongly before. I sat outside his bedroom door, waiting for him to quiet down and let me know he was ready to come out. I tried to open the door, but from the other side he was shutting it on me. He's a strong boy, so I couldn't get in easily. I knew his bedroom blinds were open, so I went outside and looked into his room, smiling and waving. When he saw me, he instantly burst into tears again and chewed me out some more. It was horrible. After a little more cooling down time, I forced my way into his room and started reading books. He softened up a bit and came over to look at the pages as I turned them. I tried to hug him, but he pushed me away, clearly still mad. At that point I left his room and prepared some macaroni and cheese for him. After he ate, all seemed well again. Max has very recently been exercising his right to say "no." He has his own ideas about what he wants to do now and doesn't hesitate to let me know they're not the same as mine. It's strange to see such a young little man with arms crossed, head hung low and scowling with a big fat pouty lip. I better hang on tight, I'm sure it's going to be a bumpy ride.