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Friday, April 22, 2011

Scowling Dogs

I love that my newly-turned 4 year old is helpful and wants to contribute to the household. She particularly likes to help with Sophie since she knows that Sophie is quite grumpy, or in her own words, not nice. As in “maybe our next dog will be nice.” (She has said this more times than can be enumerated.)

In light of that, she tries to be ├╝ber-nice to Sophie in hopes that Sophie will be nice in return. (good luck with that! At least she’s an optimist like her mommy) She feeds her and let’s her out into her pen. Well, as much as Sophie is grumpy, she’s also smart. She knows when Iz is in charge, the whole process takes longer. A lot longer. And well, she actually scowls when Isabelle feeds her or lets her out. She will make periodic eye contact with me throughout the whole process as if to say, “Can’t you just do this? (scowl) Pllllleeeeeeaaaassssee.” (scowl) Oh wait, she’s way to rude to say please, it would be more like “You do this, damn it!!” (scowl)

I’m not sure what I’ve done karma-cally speaking to deserve this ingrate of a canine, but at least Isabelle is sweet enough for the both of them that it balances it all out. I do love Siberian huskies, but this one is just too tempermental. I’ve heard pugs are amazingly sweet. Thoughts?

The Art of Fidgetetry

My sweet pre-schooler is a fidget. She has kicked the back of the seat in front of her in the car so many times that there are little divots where her feet have rubbed in permanent scars.

She loathes when her socks get twisted around; she will huff audibly, stop whatever she is doing to and bend down to fix them. Unfortunately this sounds all too familiar; I am a world-class fidget. Have been for about 40 years and I am now accustomed to it.

Mostly.

It can be really annoying to others around me; remember that kid in high school who bounced her leg so intensely that the whole table did the jitterbug right along with it? That’s me. Or the person in the seat behind you in the airplane who constantly crosses and uncrosses her legs, hitting your seat each and every time she does it? C’est moi.

You can, perhaps, take comfort in the fact that it is frequently annoying to me as well. When I go to bed at night and Don has found his perfect slumber position after 2.3 seconds, I am only on fidget round number -1. As in negative one, as in there is pre-fidgeting before the real fidgeting starts. Pre-fidgeting happens while I read and it’s not too bad since I am distracted by what I am reading. Once I am finished reading and the pre-fidgeting round has commenced then the real deal begins. First I have to adjust my pillow and in doing so my left sleeve slides up so I fix that, but as I readjust the sleeve my left pant leg creeps up and I have to fix that using the right foot so that the right pant leg creeps up and I use my left hand to fix the pant leg and then the left sleeve slides up and, well, you get the point. At some point I just get tired and fall asleep. Sometimes mid-fidget. As in I am holding the end of my sleeve in my balled up hand when I awaken. I am the Master Fidgeter, or “Meister Zappelphillip” in German.

Even our dog Sophie has decided it’s better to sleep on the floor than the super-soft, king-sized bed since she cannot take the fidgeting. Yes, dogs can scowl. And scoff. Even at adorable pre-schoolers who kick their feet under the table where the dog is trying to rest. Such is life with a family of fidgeters.