One may be surprised by this statement, but it turns out that there are disadvantages to not having a single full night of sleep in a 2 week period. Shocking, I know. It would appear that the canines in my life have devised a plot to keep me awake forever. Here are the usual suspects:
The face-squishing 90 lb Altman who CANNOT sleep unless he's touching me or completely on top of me (tell me again why we spent our tax return on a king sized bed?) wasn't able to keep me conscious all by himself anymore. I learned to just sleep in an awkward half ball with one hand over my face to protect it. So he had to call in reinforcements.
|"CUTER IN PERSON...BUT JUST BARELY"|
The little yapper (who they claimed was a pomchi but looks, and sounds, more like a hyena bat) does her part. Her favorite trick is to whine and scratch at the bed til I pick her up and put her on it beside me, only to jump off and do it again in 5 minutes. Yes, she has stairs, but what would be the fun in her using THEM?
If Petey is the brains behind the operation, Max is definitely the muscle. 110 lbs of pure stubborn. No amount of scolding, water squirting, smothering myself beneath a pillow or crying will deter him once he's decided it's time to get up. Be it 2 am, 4, am, or 3 minutes before my alarm goes off, he WILL have his way. He starts with panting heavily 2 inches from my face. I know most girls might like that sort of thing, but I'm really more of a "just let me sleep!" kind of lady. When that doesn't work, he shakes his head to jingle his tags. Then we progress to the low-growl, the whine, and finally the bark (which could rival a freight train in a silent room in the middle of the night). Yes, you WILL rise.
Don't be fooled by the sweet face, this culprit is likely the most nefarious of all. He plays innocent and cuddly, and rarely instigates any trouble. However the second one of the others gets any ideas, he's right behind them going "yeah, yeah, what he said!" Not only does he egg them on, he literally jumps up and down with joy and yelps with excitement. One is tempted to give him a sidelong look and ask "et tu, Brute'?"
So far their sleep-deprivation experiment has had interesting results. Last night after my son's band concert, I complimented my son's teacher by telling him he'd "incensed a still of confidence" in my boy. Then? I said it again. You know, for effect. I'm a little surprised the man let me put my child in the van and drive home.
Also, the "Stop Talking Now" signal in my brain seems to be malfunctioning. Not that it ever worked all that great to begin with. But at least in the past, I knew what the mouth was saying before the ears heard it. Now I'm just as surprised as the person I'm talking to. Which is also sometimes me.
I find myself concocting schemes that might sound preposterous to a well-rested and/or sane person. For instance, today I am considering canceling all my plans so I can stay home and watch the dogs for any sign of sleepiness. As soon as they close their eyes I can pester them awake again. All day. Maybe even pant in their faces.
By the way, of course every creature in my house is sound asleep as I write this. It's almost time to get my youngest up for school, but the house is practically silent. Or, would be, if Max wasn't snoring (note to self: invent Breathe Right strips for dogs, make millions) and chasing something in his sleep.
If you'll excuse me, think it might be time to test the smoke alarm...