Staying calm in an emergency

Let me start by saying that I am fully aware that raising dogs does not have much in common with raising children. For one thing, when the girls were babies, I was allowed, and even expected, to kennel them during the day. Now, I have a nice, large kennel that I would outfit with a potty pad and comfy bedding....but I'm sure there's not an agency anywhere that would consider that acceptable child care for an infant. Both girls also slept through the night almost right away and caught on to the concept of sleeping in very quickly. I just know that will NOT happen with the baby:).

The one similarity, though, is neither the dogs nor a baby can tell you when something is wrong or how bad it is. Tonight, the girls were happily chewing on bones from their basket. All of a sudden, Baylee comes trotting in from the bedroom with the funniest look on her face. It really looked like she was smiling. It was awfully cute, but I didn't get a pic. For one, I can't figure out how to get pictures from the iPad into a post and, secondly, about the time I was reaching for the iPad, I realized Bay was actually pretty freaked out. I got down on the floor with her, and that's when I realized she had that bone jammed behind her lower canine teeth. With her tongue trapped under the bone. Here's where the staying calm came in......as I'm turning the bone this way and that and reassuring Baylee that "it's just like a puzzle, if it fit over one way it's got to be able to fit again" and she's squirming and drooling and still pretty freaked, I was having to fight a slight panic moment of my own. While images of having to take her to the animal er (with the large bill that will create) where I'm imaging some guy using an electric saw to cut the bone are dancing through my head, I'm also telling myself to "stay calm. Freaking out isn't gonna help either one of us". (As I'm sure you've noticed, living alone for any extended period of time causes one to have conversations with self. And pets. And to pee with the door open, but I digress...) eventually, I turn the bone just right and it pops out of her mouth. Happy dog. Happy owner.

So, I'm feeling pretty smug in my "parenting in a crisis" capabilities.

Although......all bets are off when Baby has his/her first fever....or a cough....or sneezes funny....

Oh, and that bone is now in the trash. NOT going through that again. :)