Warpath Day

17 Sep

Now that Tom and I are hitting the almost 1-year anniversary of living together mark, we have ironed out the various routines around the house. After a couple of false starts, we are a well oiled machine around the “CP” house.

One of these routines is our “right-before-bed” routine.

We usually watch TV together on most nights in the living room, and then somewhere around the 10:00 pm mark, I move to our bedroom to watch “my” TV shows read, while I give him the right to watch all the comedy central his little heart desires (sorry, folks, I’m not a comedy central girl, but then he is not a Bravo boy either – so we even out).  By the time that Tom closes up shop, and comes to bed, I’m usually out like a light; because you know I’m OLD and OLD people need more sleep – apparently. And when that sleep is totally interrupted, this OLD person becomes a totally non-recognizable bitch who takes everyone down to the hell that her day has turned into.

It’s pretty basic: Don’t fuck with my sleep pattern, or YOU. WILL. BE . SORRY.

Now by trial and error we have learned that the dogs need about 20 minutes, at a minimum, of backyard time. Because you know, they, on top of having to go “potty”, have to sniff every fucking plant in the backyard, and chase about a gazillion squirrels and other critters in the middle of the night.  So 20 minutes is the designated time frame they need to be out in order to sleep the entire 8 hour night without having to go out again.

Does this sound familiar to new mommies everywhere? Yeah, I thought so.

So, since Tom is the one downstairs, he is in charge of letting the dogs out, before coming up to bed.

Tom is in trouble folks.

For the last couple of weeks, the 20 minute time frame has magically been reduced to 5 to 10 minutes. Which means, that for the last couple of weeks, the following has been happening more regularly, last night the whole thing blew over with this timeline, which is totally acurate, because I CHECKED THE CLOCK EVERYTIME.

1:00AM: Rufus walks up the stairs and stands on MY SIDE OF THE BED and starts deep breathing. (Have you guys had a 150 pound dog breath on your face before? NO? Trust me, its NOT RECOMMENDED) After attempting to wake up Tom, with no success, I yell to Rufus to settle down and go away.

1:15AM: Seems the yelling worked and he plucks down and start to lick himself very LOUDLY.  I apparently fall back to sleep. (but, NOT.FOR.LONG)

1:45AM: I wake up to Maggie’s crying downstairs.  I nudge Tom, who FINALLY wakes up!  And, he, like the man he is, shouts down to Maggie to shut up.  Apparently, it works. And everyone goes back to bed.  I, instead sit staring at the wall, trying to fall back to sleep.

2:00AM: still looking at the ceiling and NOT SLEEPING.

2:05AM: Maggie starts to whimper again.  I ignore her.

2:10AM: Rufus starts to breath loud and in my face AGAIN.  Maggie whimper turn into cries and little annoying barks.

2:15AM: Maggie’s start to cry harder. Tom is not moving even after numerous shoves on my part.  Rufus, not waiting to be left out, start to whine as well. DOOMED CITY here I come!

2:20AM: get up and hurry downstairs to open the back door to let the ungrateful dogs out. Start to rethink about not getting pregnant, because you know babies cry and cry, and they cannot just put them out and let them take care of their business on their own. Shit! Cannot sleep, Need to do something! Power up the laptop and kill time by reading twitter and blogs. Realized that Twitter is awful quiet around early morning – nothing exciting happening. No celebrity deaths, or dramas. We are in the clear people.

3:10AM: Let dogs back in and give them a dress down, making sure they understand that enough is enough and they better go to sleep or else!

3:20AM: Back to bed. Rufus, once again makes enough noise to wake up everyone, except TOM.

4:00AM: Still looking at the ceiling, no sleep anywhere.

4:15AM: turn on the lights, and I start to read. Hoping to fall sleep.

5:30AM: Still reading, still NOT SLEEPING.

6:00AM: alarms goes off, I snooze it and hope for 10 more minutes of sleep.

6:45AM: alarm goes off again and WAKES ME UP – SHIT I FELL SLEEP, to finally WAKE UP? WTF?

7:00AM: debates in calling in sick at work. Totally remember that I can’t.  I shove Tom awake (have to take out on someone right?)

8:00AM: Arrive at work – barely keeping my shit together today.

8:30AM: Tweeted “With only 3 hours of sleep, today is going to be a total warpath”

11:35AM: finish writing this post and realized that I still have 5 more hours to KILL before I can go home and SLEEP.

want to cry and ask for my mommy.

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One Response to “Warpath Day”

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