Luke: "Look at my cool new toy!"
Tommy: "Wow! That's pretty neat. Can I play with it?"
Luke: "NO! My toy! My toy!"
Tommy: "Please?"
Luke: "Hey! Where'd my toy go???"
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
What happens when you don't get enough sleep
Where have I been? I’m here…just busy busy busy. I went to a wedding on Sunday night and I am still running on a sleep deficit. Where is my sleep bank and can I take out a withdrawl? I need some sleep. I got three hours of sleep on Sunday night and slept ok Monday night but I was up multiple times last night panicking about work spreadsheets and I had a dream that Keith was mad at me because I didn’t come over and see their new dog. (?) The weekend before was a bachelorette party which was a blast but also got me home late and Luke doesn’t really care what time I get to bed. He wakes up when he wakes up. I didn’t really ever catch up from last weekend’s minimal sleep and I started the silly sleep patterns again. At least last weekend after 2 hours of sleep, I took a 3 hour nap during the day.
Through this sleepiness I am still functioning ok. And we’ve only had one almost casualty. Rewind to Monday afternoon at about 3:30 p.m. I get a phone call from our Nanny, Grace. She hardly ever calls me at work so immediately I panic – especially when I hear the tone in her voice. It’s the oh-no-something-is-wrong voice. Samson’s gone. Samson is our 2 ½ year old 70 pound silly labradoodle. He was my baby before Luke was born. During the weeks that Grace and the kids are at our house, Grace lets Samson outside in the back fenced/gated in area of our back “yard” (it’s not really a yard since it’s slate and not grass) and he hangs outside and barks when he wants to come in. Apparently he barked some and Grace was in the middle of putting both boys to bed and by the time she went to let Samson in He.Was.Gone. Gone. Nowhere to be found. There are two gates in the back and one was slightly open. This was the gate we used when we took the baby and the dog for a walk on Sunday afternoon and we went out the back so we wouldn’t have to maneuver the stroller up and down stairs. This was the gate that we didn’t quite latch all the way. Grace wasn’t sure exactly how long he’d been gone and since she had to stay with the sleeping babies she couldn’t exactly go looking for him. I told her I’d call someone to help and call her back. I called my next door neighbor, Julia, who used to dog walk Samson when he was a puppy. I was praying she would be home because a) she knows Samson b) Samson loves her and c) she knows the area. Thankfully she was home and she agreed to help. I also called ym sister-in-law, Marci who was on her way over. Within minutes Julia was out the door and driving around looking for him. We live one block South of a busy street and I was dreading that was where he went. Oh, and did I mention the cherry on top of this miserable sundae? He wasn’t wearing his collar. Yes, I am the terrible, horrible dog owner who didn’t have a collar on her beloved pet so anyone who found him wouldn’t know he was a beloved pet with owner contact information and proof that he had his rabies shots. I think the bandana he wears would be indicative of him being a pet and not a stray but maybe someone would think he was just a very fashionable stray. We let Samson sleep on the floor in our bedroom and Pete takes his collar off at night so it doesn’t make any noise when he’s circling the floor fifteen thousand times before curling up in a ball to sleep. Running on my three hours of sleep I forgot to put his collar back on in the morning. Bad dog owner. Fast forward to Samson running free…somewhere. Julia started by driving towards the park where we usually walk him. But luckily she changed her mind and thought he’s probably more safe running loose in the park than he would be running loose on a busy street so she turned around and drove down North Avenue. About five blocks down and she saw him sitting in the grass with a woman who was on the phone. Who was this woman calling? Well, she couldn’t be calling the dog owner – because Samson had no identification. Yup, she was calling Animal Control. (insert dramatic music here) Julia approached her and explained the situation (that she is the neighbor of the dog owner) and the woman filled her in on how she found Samson. Apparently Samson thought it would be a great idea to go into the Laundromat. Maybe his bandana needed to be cleaned. We don’t know for sure. But we think he was attracted to the sound of the kids inside the Laundromat – the kids who are AFRAID OF DOGS. So in bounds Samson jumping and happy to be greeted with screams of shock and horror from the children. Some adults less afraid of dogs than the children are (but still a little afraid) are pushing laundry carts in between confused Samson and the poor shrieking children. Luckily, our hero of the afternoon, appropriately named, Hope, sees the scene and walks in because she said she could tell he was a good dog. Samson was relieved to be around someone nice – someone who wasn’t afraid of his big dopey self. She gave him some water and was calling Animal Control when our other hero of the day, Julia, arrived. Samson was safely returned home. He was exhausted by his adventure and spent the next few hours napping. So, I’m glad somebody in the house is getting enough sleep!
Through this sleepiness I am still functioning ok. And we’ve only had one almost casualty. Rewind to Monday afternoon at about 3:30 p.m. I get a phone call from our Nanny, Grace. She hardly ever calls me at work so immediately I panic – especially when I hear the tone in her voice. It’s the oh-no-something-is-wrong voice. Samson’s gone. Samson is our 2 ½ year old 70 pound silly labradoodle. He was my baby before Luke was born. During the weeks that Grace and the kids are at our house, Grace lets Samson outside in the back fenced/gated in area of our back “yard” (it’s not really a yard since it’s slate and not grass) and he hangs outside and barks when he wants to come in. Apparently he barked some and Grace was in the middle of putting both boys to bed and by the time she went to let Samson in He.Was.Gone. Gone. Nowhere to be found. There are two gates in the back and one was slightly open. This was the gate we used when we took the baby and the dog for a walk on Sunday afternoon and we went out the back so we wouldn’t have to maneuver the stroller up and down stairs. This was the gate that we didn’t quite latch all the way. Grace wasn’t sure exactly how long he’d been gone and since she had to stay with the sleeping babies she couldn’t exactly go looking for him. I told her I’d call someone to help and call her back. I called my next door neighbor, Julia, who used to dog walk Samson when he was a puppy. I was praying she would be home because a) she knows Samson b) Samson loves her and c) she knows the area. Thankfully she was home and she agreed to help. I also called ym sister-in-law, Marci who was on her way over. Within minutes Julia was out the door and driving around looking for him. We live one block South of a busy street and I was dreading that was where he went. Oh, and did I mention the cherry on top of this miserable sundae? He wasn’t wearing his collar. Yes, I am the terrible, horrible dog owner who didn’t have a collar on her beloved pet so anyone who found him wouldn’t know he was a beloved pet with owner contact information and proof that he had his rabies shots. I think the bandana he wears would be indicative of him being a pet and not a stray but maybe someone would think he was just a very fashionable stray. We let Samson sleep on the floor in our bedroom and Pete takes his collar off at night so it doesn’t make any noise when he’s circling the floor fifteen thousand times before curling up in a ball to sleep. Running on my three hours of sleep I forgot to put his collar back on in the morning. Bad dog owner. Fast forward to Samson running free…somewhere. Julia started by driving towards the park where we usually walk him. But luckily she changed her mind and thought he’s probably more safe running loose in the park than he would be running loose on a busy street so she turned around and drove down North Avenue. About five blocks down and she saw him sitting in the grass with a woman who was on the phone. Who was this woman calling? Well, she couldn’t be calling the dog owner – because Samson had no identification. Yup, she was calling Animal Control. (insert dramatic music here) Julia approached her and explained the situation (that she is the neighbor of the dog owner) and the woman filled her in on how she found Samson. Apparently Samson thought it would be a great idea to go into the Laundromat. Maybe his bandana needed to be cleaned. We don’t know for sure. But we think he was attracted to the sound of the kids inside the Laundromat – the kids who are AFRAID OF DOGS. So in bounds Samson jumping and happy to be greeted with screams of shock and horror from the children. Some adults less afraid of dogs than the children are (but still a little afraid) are pushing laundry carts in between confused Samson and the poor shrieking children. Luckily, our hero of the afternoon, appropriately named, Hope, sees the scene and walks in because she said she could tell he was a good dog. Samson was relieved to be around someone nice – someone who wasn’t afraid of his big dopey self. She gave him some water and was calling Animal Control when our other hero of the day, Julia, arrived. Samson was safely returned home. He was exhausted by his adventure and spent the next few hours napping. So, I’m glad somebody in the house is getting enough sleep!
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