Most days it’s just Sadie (The Dog), myself and Caleb (The Baby) in the house by our­selves. As we haven’t quite got­ten a sched­ule a down for The Baby, we stay close to home most days in an attempt to find a nap­ping sched­ule that will stick. In gen­eral I’m not some who needs a lot of con­ver­sa­tion (Adam will tell you it took him a long time to get used to my pro­longed silences, espe­cially dur­ing long car rides), but there are moments when my exas­per­a­tion with The Baby’s lack of sleep­ing requires some vent­ing. This is really the only expla­na­tion that I can give for the fol­low­ing (that or I’m becom­ing a crazy dog lady, but I think my def­i­n­i­tion that can’t be true since I also have a baby in the house). As a final caveat I think it might be impor­tant to clar­ify that The Dog does not actu­ally speak using words (I’m not that far gone), but we all know how much a look can com­mu­ni­cate and The Dog has per­fected many looks over the past seven months since we brought The Baby home.

Upon The Baby Wak­ing from a Too-Short Nap:

The Dog: Seri­ously? I was rest­ing peace­fully. Why are you not run­ning to make that infer­nal noise stop?

Me: I got him last time; it is totally your turn.

The Dog: I’m not the one who decided we should have a baby. No one even asked me. He’s your prob­lem.

Me: But I got him last time. And I just sat down. And I’m tired.

The Dog: Seri­ously, go make that racket stop. Do you not even know how to par­ent your own child?

Me: Fine, but I’m bring­ing him out here and putting him down next to you so he can grab your fur for enter­tain­ment.

The Dog: Unlike that loud lump, I can actu­ally move by myself so your threats have no effect on me.

Me: Fine. I’m going.

 

Upon My Telling The Dog To Stop French Kiss­ing The Baby:

The Dog: What?

Me: That’s dis­gust­ing.

The Dog: But I was just doing it and you didn’t protest.

Me: There’s a limit. You’ve hit it.

The Dog: Well if you would bathe your child reg­u­larly I would not have to do it for you.

Me: It’s bad to bathe a baby too fre­quently; it will dry out his skin.

The Dog: Hence the impor­tance of the heal­ing pow­ers of dog saliva.

Me: I don’t think that’s a thing.

The Dog: What­ever. I’m out of here. Open the door for me.

 

Upon The Baby Grab­bing The Dog’s Fur and Not Let­ting Go:

The Dog: Uh. Hello? Get him off me.

Me: You’re the one who started lick­ing him.

The Dog: I was try­ing to make him smell right. I was doing you a favor. Make him unhand me.

Me: Fine, but I sug­gest you move away or he’s going to do it again.

(Con­ver­sa­tion con­tin­ues when The Baby inevitable grabs The Dog’s fur again because The Dog does not lis­ten to my sage wis­dom nor learn from past expe­ri­ence)

The Dog: Uh. He got me again. A lit­tle help?

Me: We’ve been over this. If you don’t want him to grab you, do stand so close to him.

The Dog: And if you don’t want me to growl at him, release me.

Me: You can growl at him all you want, I know you won’t bite him.

The Dog: But I can scare him. Seri­ously, this hurts. Help a dog out.

Me: Fine, but this is the last time.