Another Grandparental Visitation Draws to a Close
It only shows how dense I can be, but I have to confess it’s only in the last week that I figured out a stunningly obvious implication of fatherhood. To wit: the sleep thing. I’ve always been an eight-hour per night man, though it usually only worked out that way on average. I’d get by on short rations through the week, getting up early for work, then I’d binge on the weekend. I’d stay up late on a Friday or Saturday, knowing I could sleep in as long as I wanted to in the morning. The dog put a crimp in that – he has to go out to take a leak in the morning, but he was always willing to let me go back to sleep once that detail was attended to. Having a baby, though, that’s a whole different glob of paraffin. So it’s stupid, but it didn’t sink in until last weekend that the reason I never felt caught up on sleep, even after Baby Dog was reliably sleeping through the night was because I’d fallen back into the old pattern. On Friday and Saturday I’d stay up late, figuring I could sleep in until all hours. Then Baby Dog would wake up at 6 a.m., then Doggy Dog would want out, then Baby Dog would decide that instead of falling back asleep between us she’d slap my back for a while, then Doggy Dog would start whining for his breakfast, then Mama Dog and I would both figure, oh hell, we’re awake, let’s just get up.
Mama Dog is always apologetic when her mother is staying with us, worrying that the welcome will be worn out or my style cramped or whatever, but she needn’t worry. We can use the help taking care of Baby Dog, especially on the weekend. Gran is more than happy to come up here in the morning at the first sound of a wakeful baby. She’s delighted to feed Baby Dog or play with her on the living room floor while we catch up on the sleep missed the night before. For that, I’ll gladly put up with a week’s worth of finding the dishrag wadded up in the sink basin greased up from food waste being poured out over it. Gran goes home tomorrow. Baby Dog will miss her. And I’m ever so grateful for being able to stay in bed past eight this morning.
Mama Dog is always apologetic when her mother is staying with us, worrying that the welcome will be worn out or my style cramped or whatever, but she needn’t worry. We can use the help taking care of Baby Dog, especially on the weekend. Gran is more than happy to come up here in the morning at the first sound of a wakeful baby. She’s delighted to feed Baby Dog or play with her on the living room floor while we catch up on the sleep missed the night before. For that, I’ll gladly put up with a week’s worth of finding the dishrag wadded up in the sink basin greased up from food waste being poured out over it. Gran goes home tomorrow. Baby Dog will miss her. And I’m ever so grateful for being able to stay in bed past eight this morning.
posted by PapaDogDuvalier | 10:28 PM
2 Comments:
Unfortunately, your issue with late nights is not unknown at our house, either. These kids have their own built in alarm clocks, and they don't know where the snooze button is!
I saw a great t-shirt this weekend: I NEED A 30 HOUR NAP. Fuck, yeah. The thing that I miss the most: sleeping in, doing the crossword puzzle, having lazy sex, then sleeping in some more. Gosh, is it 2 pm already?
Sometime, I'd like the grandparents to visit so we can go to a motel and hunker down for at least a 20 hour bed-stay.
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