"Are you gonna blog about this...?"

That's what B asked last night as we were laying in bed having our conversation in whispers.  Why were we whispering?  Because the doodle, after being kicked out of bed for the 18th time, curled himself up on the floor quietly and fell fast asleep.  We were trying desperately to keep it that way... much like the mother of a baby with colic might actually slit your throat with her machete if you dare wake her finally sleeping child.  You may think the odds of any responsible mother actually owning a machete are pretty slim, but I assure you, she will quickly find one if you wake that sleeping pain in the a... child.

With a false sense of relief and thinking we were home free, B and I embarked naively on our respective trips to sleepytown.  Approximately 3 nanoseconds before I actually slid into REM sleep (see previous post), the whining began.  And it continued.  Without recess.  Well into the night.  And then into the morning.  The early morning.  Then the late early morning.  All of the begging, pleading and "Oscar, NO!"s in the world were cried in vain.  I even prayed he might lose his voice... but that backfired since I quickly lost my MIND instead!

Sometime between plotting my own death and trying to remember where I hid the rat poison (about 3am) I remembered a stash of (hot pink) ear plugs I had left over from school.  (Admittedly, I hate people... and all the noises they make, especially talking ... or breathing.  Ear plugs were the only way I escaped 4 years of undergrad and 1 year of law school without ending up on that Oxygen show, "Snapped".  Barely.)  So I ransacked the eventual office/currently a disaster of haphazardly placed boxes yet to make it to storage room until I found them.  In the dark.  In my underwear.  I was even nice enough to offer B a pair, despite the fact that I whole-heartedly blame him for the enumerable sleepless nights I've encountered since the kickoff of his "No Dogs in the Bed" campaign.  I doubt he cared that they were hot pink.

The ear plugs were barely a match for the high-pitched squeals emitted by a doodle in distress.  But they managed to drown out enough of the noise that I eventually fell into what was possibly the deepest, most amazing sleep I've ever experienced.  I didn't wake again until 6:45 which is when Oscar turned up the volume about 437 decibels (silly me, I thought we were already there) to inform us of his urgent need to potty and eat.  3 1/2 hours of uninterrupted sleep... I don't have a night in recent memory (i.e. - the last 2 1/2 yrs) where I've been afforded such luxury.  Tonite, we're throwing some calming drops in the mix and will be inserting ear plugs about 4 hours earlier than last night.  Xanax will likely also be invited to the sleepover.  (For me, not the dog... Er, wait!  That gives me an idea...).  I'll be ecstatic to achieve another 3 1/2 uninterrupted hours tonight. 

Ironically, when I opened my email this morning, this appropriate "Verse of the Day" was waiting in my inbox:
He who spares the rod hates his son, but he who loves him is careful to discipline him.
Proverbs 13:24
Way to validate B, God.  It's not bad enough the entire world of animal professionals is on his side, but YOU have to jump on his bandwagon, too?  I don't find this funny... not one bit!