“Looks like I picked the wrong week to stop sniffing glue.” – Steve McCroskey, Airplane
In hindsight, it looks like yesterday was the wrong day to start my 30 By 30 weight loss initiative. You ever have one of those days where you start off with the best of intentions and the firmest resolve, but everything goes wrong? That was yesterday.
First of all, I forgot that we were going out for dinner for my mother-in-law’s birthday. I ate well (a steak and steamed vegetables) but then I was goaded into a (small) piece of ice cream cake. That’s a way to start an intensive diet eh?
Also, Will had his 1-year pediatrician appointment yesterday. The good news is he’s doing well. He’s just over 24 lbs and 32 inches tall. That’s good for the 97th percentile in height and the 85th percentile in weight. The bad news? He had three vaccinations. Which means he was grumpy for the rest of the day and refused to nap. And as any parent knows, when the routine is thrown off ain’t no one happy.
In other sad news, we’ve decided to surrender our dalmatian, Fenway. It’s been a very tough decision and we’ve agonized over it for more than a year now. But it’s time. Ever since Will was born, she’s been incorrigible. She wakes up between 3:15 and 3:45 a.m. every day demanding to eat. Not to be let out, to eat. I’ve tried crating her but she barks. And when she barks, she wakes up Will and our neighbors (we’re in a condo). I’ve tried a shock collar, but it has no effect on her. We hired a trainer to come in and that didn’t work either. So to keep her from barking and waking everyone else up, I have to give in to her which reinforces her bad habit. As a result, I haven’t slept for more than 4 hours at a time in more than a year. I’m exhausted. And worse than that, I’m to the point where I get so angry at Fenway I consider throwing her out a window on a daily basis. And that’s no good for anyone. She needs a new home where she’s the only dog and someone can spend more time with her than we are currently able.
Case in point was last night. Will slept terribly. He woke up 4-5 times. When he finally did go to sleep, that’s when Fenway decided she wanted to eat. She barked, Will woke up. So I fed her and quieted her down. Then I quieted Will down. And just when everyone was settled, my lovely wife starts hacking up a lung due to her cold. I’d feel sorry for her, but she refuses to go to the doctor to get checked out, so I have absolutely no pity for her. Because when she coughed it alarmed Fenway. Fenway barked. Will cried. Then I got everyone down AGAIN only to be thwarted AGAIN! This time by the cat, who found a milk cap in the kitchen to play hockey with in the middle of the night.
Picture, if you will, a 29-year-old man yelling and swearing at 3:45 a.m. as he quickly loses his mind and nears a mental breakdown due to animals, a sick wife and a baby who won’t sleep. I didn’t get more than 2 hours of continuous sleep all night. That was the scene and it was ugly.
Don’t let anyone tell you being a dad is all flowers and pie because it’s not. Some days you want to go on a 6-state killing spree, like today.
Happy Fatherhood Friday.