Dog Farts

I have wanted a dog my entire 32 (nearly 33!) years on this planet. For a million reasons I was never able to get one. I am quite the dog person. I finally decided (and told my husband very explicitly) that my terms were this: I will be getting a dog when we own our own home and all of my children are out of diapers.

So, while living with my mother (in her basement, (because: toxic mold) where we were so very grateful {and super cramped}) the babiest of the Griders was begging (and begging and begging and beggingto “use the potty” and “wear unnie-pants” (yes, that phrase is as cute as you can possibly imagine) like her big sister. Repetedly. Add this to the fact that the (nearly) five year old cloth diapers started to leak on a regular basis…so I decided that since I was dealing with wet pants anyway that I might as well try (for the third time since Kathryn was 18 months of age) to potty train her. She magically got potty trained in about 4 days at 22 months of age! I should throw a celebratory party. Just a few weeks later than this milestone we settled on our very first home.

I then decided that the house needed to be unpacked and the few non negotiable things that needed to be taken care of in the new home needed to be cared for first and then, finally, finally, fucking finally, I could adopt a dog. (We had an external door that was broken, and an HVAC system that decided to crap the FUCK out before the ink was dry on our first-time-home-buyer settlement papers, a broken disposal/dishwasher and a few other ‘minor’ but necessary things). We moved in July 22nd (after a crazy, no-holds-barred weekend of “dear god we must wash every wall, scrub every counter top, scourge every toilet, suds every baseboard, have every. single. carpet. professionally cleaned, every air duct professionally blown out, and at the end of it all paint. every. single. wall. in. the. entire. house {while completing all of this in under 48 hours})”. I would like to point out that I fucking rule, goddamnit, and I got this crazy list of this shit done WITH TWO SMALL CHILDREN UNDER THE AGE OF FIVE following me most of the time (but I must give a shout out to the Duffy/Orem/Haas/Chicca clan for taking the Grider Girls for 12+ of these daytime hours, and also praise the Hall/Lederer/Eason/Rohrbaugh/Grider group of people who helped with the actual chores — I am so grateful for the people that helped me complete this motherfucking insanity).

So I finished all of the aforementioned craziness. And then I needed the big things in my “first time homeowner list” completed before I added more (AKA: a 66 pound dog) to my life. Then I went to the local “pound”. They have fantastic guidelines – which ensure that animals that are adopted from their facilities end up living in homes where they will stay and not be kicked to the curb over a small slight. I respect and understand that as an animal health care professional. Particularly as a previous emergency/general practice veterinary technician I completely understand the need for people who ‘get’ the importance and responsibilities that are involved with being a pet owner.

But, as a person who really, really wanted a dog I was impatient and frustrated at the process! (Because I’m still the 5 year old that wants a puppy, okay??).

We looked at a total of seven dogs.

Yes, you read that correctly.


My entire family came to see three of them. (They have this guideline that your entire family needs to be present and meet the new family member. Really, I do agree with this. It just gets hard on the fifth or sixth time, that’s all…..)

It was such a (fucking annoying goodamned long) process.


(Yes, shut the fuck up. I know I sound like a goddamned six year old. I don’t care. I felt like a six year old who was STILL BEING denied something that she was really, really, really desiring. And deserved. And could HANDLE. And…and….and….and………where’s my puppy….?)

And we finally got approved to keep a gorgeous, chill, sweet, perfect dog. She was just over one year of age, spayed, vaccinated, microchipped and her adoption fee was PREpaid! (I did not know this until we’d already decided to bring her home – I swear!)

She came home mid-August. We renamed her Juno. (Her previous name was Sasha – uck. Who names a doggy Sasha?!!) And she had such a rough life previously. She’d been a stray that had been adopted from the same pound with a new family with kids – for a whole week. Clearly a week is long enough to determine that this dog is awful and I must return her because she is awful and just a terrible per.


I adore her.

I love her.

I want to be the best (doggy/step/biological) mother ever.

And I am getting there. I have so many skills and so much patience and a ton of experience.

We’ve worked so long with her and her behavioral problems (she’s got severe separation anxiety – because of course I would adopt a dog that will bloody her nose if I leave her in her crate for more than 30 minutes….) and after a long period of patience and love, she is acclimating to our family nicely.

I adore this dog. She snuggles with me in bed.

When I cry over the fact that my mental health is deteriorating (fodder for another post) she licks my tears.

She curls up at my feet when I’m watching the Gilmore Girls (YES I know I’m over a decade behind. Hush).

And she farts.

I feel like “farts” is just so completely inadequate to depict the situation of which I am describing.

My husband and I choke in the miasma that emanates from the rear end of my adorable pup. Almost daily. Some times half a dozen times daily.

It’s beyond awful.

No, really.

I’m not exaggerating.

Seriously. One night a few weeks ago I woke up in the middle of the night – around 3am or so (this awful shit always happens sometime between 1:30 and 4am).

My master bedroom smelled like shit. Literally like shit. I woke up with the taste of poop in my mouth.

I then spent a good 20 – 30 minutes searching the upper level of my house for shit. I was wondering if my baby girl had shat her diaper, or if my first born had decided it would be a good idea to shit in our master bathroom and not flush (this is not an uncommon occurrence in my home, frankly). I searched the crate at the foot of my bed – maybe my new pup decided to cement how very much she hates that metal contraption…?

No poop. I could find no feces anywhere.

I was unable to locate the source of the shit smell that had been so incredibly fetid and rancid that it awoke me from a deep, dead sleep. (If you don’t know me personally then you do not understand how significant this is. I never, ever awake from sleep unless there’s a screaming child that my husband has not already attended to. Or, occasionally, I might be awoken because I need to vomit into (and by ‘into’ I mean somewhere around or leading to the room in which the toilet is housed).

So, now that we’ve clarified the (very, very, very) few (and absolutely far between) things that would wake me from a deep sleep: I then went back to sleep.  (DUDE! It was like 2:30am!) Once I was aware that my daughters were not sleeping in or rolling around on shit and that I would not awake in a slimy mud puddle of poop early in the morning I decided to go (the fuck) back to (my favorite thing ever ever ever EVER ever ever EVER EVER) sleep.

The next morning I said to my hubby: “DUDE. I woke up sometime during the night to what I swear was poop in our room. It honestly smelled like there was poop in our bed!”

He informed me: “Yes. There was poop smell in our room. Our dog was farting,”

Farts? You mean the nasty, poop-in-my-mouth, wake me up from a dead sleep and search my house, smell was a 66 pound animal breaking wind?

Yes, he tells me. Repeatedly.

I think he’s full of shit.

But I feel as though I must tell those of you who are reading my blog that during the 23ish minutes I’ve been typing up this I’ve been resisting the urge to vomit. Why, you ask?

Because of dog farts.

My beautiful, soft coated, sweet, kind, chill pup – she farts like she’s trying to kill someone who is attempting to drown her most recent litter of puppies. With a method of gas that required a mask…..

doggie farts.


I wish I had “Parenting, Illustrated by Crappy Pictures” sitting next to me to demonstrate what it’s like to sit on my couch typing on my laptop in the general vicinity of my television….living in a cloud of death. There should be photos in the PigPen cloud that surrounds me. Complete with flies. Flies that are dying mid-air because of the stench.

Oh, my. I swear that I love this pup. Really, I do.

But why the fuck did I choose a dog (who I swear I love, after thirty two years of waiting for a dog) who farts like a motherfucker – she farts almost as though she wants to kill me.

I’m choking just writing this.

But she’s supremely beautiful and loving.

And smelly.

So. Fucking. Smelly.

Poop-smell-in-your-mouth-that-causes-you-to-wake-up-from-a-dead-sleep smelly.

However, seeing her completely covered in stickers (that my 2 year old placed on her only moments after my 5 year old finished attempting to ride her – I stopped her, calm down) just reminds me why I put up with the fucking god awful dog farts.


Dog farts.

I’m going to live with the miasma of dog farts for the rest of my life, aren’t I?

It’s a good thing I drink a lot of wine…….

The wine almost helps to make me forget the smell. Almost.


This, too, shall pass…



See that? It’s a pebble. Relatively innocuous, one wouldn’t think that something so small and insignificant could cause so much smelly annoyance.


Guess what my husband and I have spent the last 24 hours doing? If you said lounging on the beach, fruity umbrella, hand-in-hand, basking in both the beautiful sunset and our love for one another, you’d be close.

Except not at all.

If you said putting on rubber gloves and alternately squishy & sifting through every particle of every bowel movement that has passed through my daughter’s adorable butt cheeks in search of the above pictured rock, you’d be closer.

And, of course, they are the smelliest, smelliest bowel movements she’s had in months. There I stood, hunched over the toilet bowl squeezing turds into the toilet. It’s become a science, and I’m very concerned I might miss a spot. Seriously? Are you kidding me? This is what my life has been reduced to?

I should have known this was coming when I discovered a sticker in my daughter’s poop at  7 months of age. Not in her poop as though someone had stuck it in her diaper, but in her poop like she ate it, unsuccessfully attempted to digest it, and then pooped it out. This child is more obsessed with actually eating foreign objects than anyone other baby  I’ve ever met.

I’ve washed my hands 300 times today and still don’t feel clean. And the feces smelled so bad you could actually taste it, rather than just smell it.

*sigh* I’m wrapping her in bubble wrap and we’re never leaving the house again.


So now for the big question: do I put the rock in her baby book?


Cloth Diapers (Part 1)

This one’s not a funny post. Sorry guys! I’ve wanted to use my blog to also talk about things that are super important to me, and help other mothers in addition to just being crazy hilarious.

So I’m starting a multi post series that is about (you guessed it!) cloth diapering!!

(Don’t worry, I’ll intersperse with funny posts, too as we go along, so don’t flip out)

We started cloth diapering my oldest at about 14 or so months of age. Even with the late start, we’ve saved about $4,000 all together last I checked (this also doesn’t include the costs that I’ve saved on gas to the store, extra laundry for all the blow outs we’ve saved, diaper rash cream when cloth cleared up my daughter’s persistent rashes, costs on laundry detergent when we started making our own, etc, etc, etc…)

I’ve first decided to post about common cloth diapering myths in the hopes that you’ll keep reading if you’ve decided I’m crazy. Hopefully you’ve stuck with me thus far!

12 Cloth diapering myths:
1) You have to buy cloth diapers new.
FALSE: Previously loved cloth is an option for many families who’s resources may be more limited. Diapers washed to manufacturer’s specifications have a life much longer than that of one child in diapers.
2) You have to pay a diaper service to launder your diapers.
FALSE: Most diapers can be safely and effectively laundered at home. There are many commercially available laundry detergents for sale that are safe in all washers, even HE washers!
3) Cloth diapers require pins.
FALSE: There are several styles of diapers that have been developed over the years. Most are designed to be just like a disposable diaper and require no special skills to apply to your baby.
4) Once your diapers have a “stink” they’re ruined.
FALSE: There are many different ways to remove smells from diapers: changing detergent, a strip, an overnight soak, sunning, lemon, baking soda…the list goes on and on!
5) You have to commit to one brand or style of diaper.
FALSE: Just like every pregnancy and every baby is different, so is each child’s diapering needs! Many families have one style of diaper for overnight wear and another kind for active daytime wear. Some babies have chunky thighs while others have petite little wastes. A blended approach to cloth diapering is best for almost everyone.

6) Cloth diapers aren’t better for the environment due to the amount of water used to wash them .
FALSE: Several non-renewable resources are destroyed in droves to produce disposable diapers. Water is a renewable resource. Also keep in mind: EVERY disposable diaper ever made is still in existence.


7) If you can’t handle poop in your washing machine, you can’t cloth diaper.
FALSE: Many people have found success in cloth diapering by simply dumping the solid wastes into the toilet. A sprayer can be purchased for a reasonable price (~$55) to get those hard stuck on bits. If even this idea makes you shudder, you can even use a hybrid system like GroVia or Flips or gDiapers with a smaller, biodegradable liner that gets flushed and/or tossed like a disposable would. You can still reduce waste, spend less money, and consider yourself a cloth diapering parent! (And as an aside: everyone is supposed to dump their child’s solid wastes into the toilet: even disposables. It says so right on the box. All that waste isn’t supposed to end up in landfills where it festers and can enter the ground water. No one does it, but it’s true!)


8) Cloth diapers are almost as expensive as disposable.
FALSE: If a parent were to buy the top of the line cloth diapering system (read: brand new, expensive) with all associated accessories, they could spend anywhere from $350-600 depending on the type and quantity of diapers. It costs, on average. $3,000 to diaper one child from birth to potty training if using solely disposable diapers. Cloth can also be used on subsequent children without the start up costs, and have a high resale value when you’re finished with them. Even if you factor in the increased cost of a few extra loads of laundry and diaper safe detergent, the numbers just make sense.


9) I can’t afford to buy all this cloth at once! I’ll never be able to cloth diaper!
FALSE: Buy what you can afford. Add as you can. Even one diaper per day that you don’t throw away after using it reduces your diaper costs and wastes. You can buy one diaper per paycheck until you have enough to get through 2-3 days between washings. Also, even part time cloth diapering saves you money. Some families use a mixed system (we, for example, cloth diaper 98% of the time – but when we travel or need prescription diaper rash cream we use disposables)


10) It is harder to potty train your child if you use cloth diapers.
FALSE: On average, children that wear cloth tend to potty train faster than children who wear disposables. This is due to the fact that they can feel the wetness more without the chemicals that make disposable diapers feel drier longer. It can actually help a child identify the signals that are required to develop toileting skills sooner. Also, there are many cloth training pant options available instead of disposable “pull up” style diapers that can help with learning how to be done with diapers all together! One diaper costs about the same as a pack of pull ups–but you get unlimited use out of it.


11) Children who wear cloth diapers get more rashes.
FALSE: The opposite is typically true. Commercially available disposable diapers have endocrine disrupting gels as well as other chemicals in them that are often harsh on baby’s skin and are typically a main cause of repeated rashes. Also, disposable diapers are the equivalent of placing your child’s bum in a plastic bag: very little air gets in (this is why a common “treatment” for diaper rash is to give the baby’s butt “air time”). In cloth the baby’s butt breathes much more freely. In addition to this, babies that are diapered with cloth are often changed more frequently so that the liquid isn’t against baby’s skin as long. Sometimes children will develop rashes in cloth but it’s often caused by a laundering or fabric issue which can be more easily remedied than you think.

12) Cloth diapers leak urine and poop more than disposables do.
FALSE: The image of a “poop explosion” in babies is common, regardless of the style of diaper a baby is wearing: it happens once in awhile to all babies. (All mom’s know this!) However, cloth diapers can be more easily tailored to the size and shape of your baby (petite, chunky things, long legs–these ALL have specific diaper solutions). Disposables, however, are made from a “one size fits all” mentality–just because your baby is the right weight doesn’t mean it’s a perfect fit. Also, most cloth diapers have real elastic and snaps or aplix (velcro) to adjust to your baby as he or she grows.
Got all that? Feel free to ask questions in the comments!!
Soon to come: Cloth Diapering (Part 2): Different types