a night to remember.

Last night, things got real. I mean really real. It all started yesterday afternoon…

I picked Hudson up from Chris’ house and took him straight to the groomers. He desperately needed a bath and a thorough brushing before he could come home. They said he’d be ready at 6PM.

Around 5PM, I start feeding Madeline dinner. I gave Lily her dinner in her crate and, once she had finished, she started to bark. If I’ve learned anything from training it is not to reward a behavior you don’t like with any attention, so I ignored. I ignored her incessant barking for 45 minutes, while Madeline threw her pasta bolognese onto the floor, threw her sweet potato onto the floor, threw her cookie onto the floor and threw her cup onto the floor. When Andrew walked through the door, my nerves were on the brink of shattering. “I have to go get Hudson from Petsmart, and I’m really worried about bringing him home for the first night. He’s gonna come home and you’re gonna have put Maddie to sleep and Lily’s gonna bark and wake her up and it’s gonna be awful and Hudson is gonna get so anxious and Lily hasn’t stopped barking and Maddie doesn’t want to eat and I’m in a really really really bad place right now and I need you to be patient with me even if I seem irrational.” He looked around the room and took over. He told me to take some time to myself when I was picking up Hudson, maybe stop for a Starbucks. It was really sweet. We hugged, I kissed Madeline goodnight, and I left.

During the ride to Petsmart, I took many deep breaths. If I’m calm, Hudson will be calm. Tonight’s going to be much better than I’m projecting. Hudsie’s going to be great. Lily is going to be great. Madeline is asleep. And Andrew and I are going to watch the JETS beat the Patriots on the big screen.

**Warning! Do not read beyond this point if you can’t do gross. It’s about to get gross.**

My clean and handsome buddy boy all but dragged me out of the store to the pet relief area. Poop shot out of his bottom at lightening speed, which quickly turned into bright red blood. His backside looked like a crime scene. I freaked out. I took him to the car and immediately called the vet. The receptionist did not seem nearly as concerned as I was about the bloop (blood poop- I just made that up). She said it was probably stress and just see how he felt in the morning. Our dog was so stressed he blooped himself.

I called Andy, on the verge of tears, to let him know what had happened. He was worried but had other things on his plate and couldn’t really talk. Madeline had been crying for the last ten minutes. I told him to put me on speaker phone. I sang a few songs, and I told her how much I loved her. “Now go night night, little girl.” She cooed back at me.

The ride home from Petsmart only takes about 15 minutes. I was driving down our cross street when Andrew called back. He asked if I was almost home. I’d be there in two minutes, why? Madeline hadn’t stopped crying since he laid her back down and she was getting hysterical and I was never allowed to leave for bedtime again. We planned our rendezvous, and I was home 30 seconds later.

He met me in the garage and took Hudson straight outside (more bloop), while I went upstairs to check on the baby. I opened the door and even in the dark I knew something was wrong. What was that smell? She was standing in the back corner on the crib and started to cry again when she saw me. I turned on the light. Vomit. Everywhere. All down her pajamas. On the crib bumpers, the sheet, the blanket, the pillow, the sleep sheep, her Lamby. Vomit. On top of that, she had a dirty diaper. I called down to Andrew, “It’s not good. I need you.”

The plan was for him to strip the bed, while I re-bathed Maddie and got her into new jammies. We’d throw it all in the wash and make up her bed with the second set (pro-tip: have a second set of everything).

I finished up her bath and brought her back into her room. Andrew looked up at me, stupefied, “These knots are impossible. What did you do?” Why do bumpers have to be tied on to cribs? In double knots? Why not velcro or anything else really? I must have untied 30 different double-knots before we could even begin to strip the bed. Also, why are crib sheets impossible to put on? And why did it have to be so hot in her room? And what the heck was going on here?

In a stroke of luck, Puppy and Bunny escaped Pukefest 2013 by hiding underneath her blanket. I held them up in the air, looked up and said a genuine prayer of thanks. An hour after I had first gone in to check on her, our daughter, who had evidently cried herself into such a frenzy that she barfed her feelings, lay down in her clean sheets with her guys and fell fast asleep.

I went straight into the shower, where I discovered Hudson’s bloop had splash onto my flip-flopped foot and dried there. I laughed so hard.

When I came downstairs, Andrew was finally sitting down to dinner, so I took on Hudson. I put on some Elvis (Chris told me he loves The King), sat down on the floor with him and a box of baby wipes and started cleaning up the crime scene. He was graceful and patient and after I finished, we hugged and he went into his (also freshly cleaned out) crate, ate his dinner and fell asleep.

It was then that Andy informed me that our new cable for the iPad worked great, but that the NFL Network blocks HDMI connections, ie we couldn’t stream this game (one of the only JETS games we’ll have access to all season) onto our TV. Of course not. So we sat on the couch in the dark, huddled around the iPad and watched the JETS get beat, while Lily barked frantically from her crate in the other room. Actually I left before halftime and went to bed. I couldn’t take it anymore.

I woke up this morning and realized that today is Friday the 13th. Looks like it came a little bit early for the Wilhelms, this year. We got puke, poop and bloop.

Thank God It's Friday The Thirteenth


  1. awe man. that’s a rough night dear.


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