Tuesday night was one of those “Please God let me get some sleep sort of nights.” Suddenly my girls are no longer babies, know the words to Lady Gaga Telephone, and are as adept at accessorizing as a Kardashian. Your kids get older and you think you’re off the hook as far as midnight feedings but then you conveniently forget that your dogs are getting older, too, and occasionally need to pee. Outside. And they can’t go out the dog door any more. Therein lies a problem. Welcome to midnight peeings.
This is a rough timeline of how the night went. If you’re considering getting a puppy for Christmas, just remember they grow up to be old and not in that cute Betty White sort of way.
1:52 a.m. I hear a bark. I ignore it. I hear it again. I remember that the hubby last let Bailey, our 13-year-old arthritic Corgi/German Shepherd mix, out two nights ago at an ungodly hour, so I roll my eyes, roll out of bed, and sleep walk into the den and down the four steps into our office slash bonus room to let her out the back door.
1:54 a.m. Yawn. Where IS that #$%@ dog?
1:55 a.m. I hear clicking from upstairs, the evil maniacal clicking of a dog on our hardwood floors. A dog who has fooled me and is now headed down the hall and into our bedroom, where she is forbidden from sleeping because of her old lady nocturnal dog grooming habits. Side note: I need earplugs and she needs a doggy mani/pedi.
1:57 a.m. “Mom!” I hear Miss C calling for me. She’s inherited my light sleeper gene, bless her heart.
1:58 a.m. I crawl into bed with Miss C. She’s nearly up to my shoulders now height wise so cuddling with her is like cuddling with a lanky 8-year-old. Which she is!
2:12 a.m. Miss C is finally asleep so I sneak back into bed with the hubby.
2:15 a.m. Hubby starts snoring.
2:25 a.m. Still snoring. I do that closed-eyed long-armed slap maneuver until he rolls over.
2:35 a.m. Still awake. I grab my pillow and slog over to Miss C’s room.
2:50 a.m. I am on the brink of blissful slumber when Miss C stretches and smacks me in the face.
2:52 a.m. I go back again to my bed. Struggle to get comfortable due to joint issues. Awesome.
3:00 a.m. Snoring.
3:10 a.m. Tuning out, unsuccessfully, scratching and licking and other unpleasantries of life with a 13-year-old dog.
3:15 a.m. I decide to shoot our dog.
4:00 a.m. I give up. Sleep is overrated.
4:20 a.m. ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ