Comedy of errors: how to juggle a baby, a pug, and an angry neighbor

I thought I would share this simply because it was such a comedy of errors that I suppose if it hadn't happened to ME I would see the humor in it: as it stands I'm still licking my wounds.

To give you some background, my daughter is standing and even jumping, so we lowered the crib bottom to ensure she didn't somehow escape the safety of her baby jail. This is fine and all - however, as I somewhat vertically-challenged momma, I can no longer readily reach the crib bottom. A few nights ago when my daughter woke screaming and clambered into my arms sobbing for whatever reason, I attempted to reach into the crib to locate her pacifier. Not only did I failed utterly in this mission, I also wrenched the hell out of my back: so badly that I ended up flat on my back in bed.

So..moving forward,...the evening of my confinement after my kind MIL had left for the day, I let the pug out to go potty. Usually, he is a good pug and stays close so on occasion I stupidly neglect a leash; this day of all days he chose to travel 6 yards away, running away from me. Like a lame cow, I gimped with the baby on my hip trying to catch him and encourage him to come home; I did not have a poop bag, and my attempts to actually grab at him were continually evaded. Finally, corralled somewhat towards home, Loki made a beeline for the neighbors flowers. I followed, tried to get him away, nudge him with my feet, swear - to no avail.

And then...the neighbor comes out. Here I am, standing with gigantor baby in my arms, looking like the 3rd ring of hell with my uncombed hair, bare feet and mismatched jogging clothes (aka whatever was close when I got out of bed) and this giant man comes out, looking down at my now-urinating pug.

"You are standing there letting that dog pee on my flowers??!!! For Christ's sake!!"

I apologized profusely, tried to tell him - look buddy, this wasn't anticipated, and I can't grab him and hold her...and that this was an accident, etc. etc...I left out that my back was by this time killing me. He glared, shook his head, and went back into the house swearing at me under his breath.

And still, the pug would not come. Finally, I took a deep breath, bent down (bad idea) and scooped the pug. Now carrying 20+ lbs on each hip, I make it to my yard and drop the pug. He still won't go onto the porch - I end up putting the baby down in the grass, grabbing the pug and running him to the deck (figure of speech entirely - more like oddly waddled) only to find that the sliding glass door was locked. I was about ready to scream in frustration when my husband opened the door, took one look at me, the pug, and the baby sitting in the yard happily clapping and shook his head.

Wordlessly, I handed him the pug, retrieved the baby and passed her off too. I grabbed two poop bags, went and made my way across the other backyards, retrieving Loki's leavings...swearing never, EVER, to let this dog off-leash again and wincing the entire way... the angry neighbor watching my lumbering progress from his kitchen window. I admit it; behind my back I flipped him the bird.