Tough Mother's Day Morning
Baby Dog woke up at one-something Saturday a.m., howling like a bean sidhe, responding to all sleep-restoring gambits with the same screeched two-word complaint: “Start begiiiinnnnnniiiiiiinnnnnng!!!!” This went on for an hour, virtually non-stop high-decibel screeches and tears. It was probably necessary for us to be reminded that, as verbal as she is, Baby Dog’s really not yet old enough to be a truly reasonable creature, and that once such a tantrum begins meaningful communication of any kind becomes impossible. Mama Dog was the one who finally figured it out, by recognising the tone of the scream; it was the same as her pre-verbal “hungry” cry. We put her in the high chair, gave her a bran muffin, and we were all back to sleep within fifteen minutes.
This morning, Baby Dog woke up screaming again, though she let us sleep in until almost five. We again took turns trying to get her settled to no avail. It didn’t seem possible she was hungry again – unlike Friday night, she ate a full supper last night – but the sound was the same, so Mama Dog gave her breakfast. Unfortunately, while we were ready to go back to sleep after that, Baby Dog was convinced it was time for the day to start. I piled a bunch of her books in her crib and Mama Dog and I tried to catch the necessary few winks while the girl entertained herself. Around seven it became clear that Baby Dog wasn’t going to go back to sleep and, furthermore, she was tired of her literary selections. I hauled myself out of bed and took Baby Dog into the living room. I set her in front of her Mr. Potato Head set and curled up on the couch under an afghan, bobbing up and down about the meniscus of consciousness. Baby Dog looked up from the potato parts and said “Daddy is lying down on the blanket.” She had the order wrong – the blanket was on me, not the other way around – but I was impressed by the complexity of the sentence. Seven words. I’m pretty sure that’s her longest one yet.
Around nine, I got up to give her a snack, and shortly after that Mama Dog got up, having achieved as much of a Mother’s Day sleep-in as she deemed possible. All four of us – Papa, Mama, Baby, and Doggy – went out on a family walk, our two-year-running Mother’s Day tradition. We went to Bloomies to buy Mummy some flowers. I don’t think we took Doggy Dog last year, and he made things difficult this year, yelping when we had to stand too long in the flower line. Baby Dog fell asleep in the stroller on the way home, something she hasn’t done in ages (mostly because we’ve largely stopped using the stroller since she got the hang of walking). She was in her crib snoozing peacefully at 11 a.m., and a peaceful Mother’s Day midmorning descended.
This morning, Baby Dog woke up screaming again, though she let us sleep in until almost five. We again took turns trying to get her settled to no avail. It didn’t seem possible she was hungry again – unlike Friday night, she ate a full supper last night – but the sound was the same, so Mama Dog gave her breakfast. Unfortunately, while we were ready to go back to sleep after that, Baby Dog was convinced it was time for the day to start. I piled a bunch of her books in her crib and Mama Dog and I tried to catch the necessary few winks while the girl entertained herself. Around seven it became clear that Baby Dog wasn’t going to go back to sleep and, furthermore, she was tired of her literary selections. I hauled myself out of bed and took Baby Dog into the living room. I set her in front of her Mr. Potato Head set and curled up on the couch under an afghan, bobbing up and down about the meniscus of consciousness. Baby Dog looked up from the potato parts and said “Daddy is lying down on the blanket.” She had the order wrong – the blanket was on me, not the other way around – but I was impressed by the complexity of the sentence. Seven words. I’m pretty sure that’s her longest one yet.
Around nine, I got up to give her a snack, and shortly after that Mama Dog got up, having achieved as much of a Mother’s Day sleep-in as she deemed possible. All four of us – Papa, Mama, Baby, and Doggy – went out on a family walk, our two-year-running Mother’s Day tradition. We went to Bloomies to buy Mummy some flowers. I don’t think we took Doggy Dog last year, and he made things difficult this year, yelping when we had to stand too long in the flower line. Baby Dog fell asleep in the stroller on the way home, something she hasn’t done in ages (mostly because we’ve largely stopped using the stroller since she got the hang of walking). She was in her crib snoozing peacefully at 11 a.m., and a peaceful Mother’s Day midmorning descended.
posted by PapaDogDuvalier | 7:33 PM
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