Monday, September 6, 2010

No Cats Were Hurt During The Making Of This Blog


Remember those first glorious nights when your baby was finally sleeping through the night? The precious hours of sleep that evaded you for 3, 4 or in our case, 9 months. You remember. Food tasted better, the sun shone brighter. Do you also remember the little backslide baby went through? When baby would yell out at 3am..sort of an "Are you still there? I'm still here, just making sure we don't forget about each other. First baby on the left...helllooooo!" Your first instinct was to run in, comfort, tap his little bottom while you are slung over the side of the crib praying to the ever-loving Gods to make this child go back to sleep.

Then you clued in that this was some sadistic game the baby was playing. He cried, you answered, he went to sleep, you were up for the night decorating or making shopping lists. Hmmmm....Then, you sought help. "Let the baby cry". The books told you. "He's only crying because he knows you'll come in ". Freakin' Pavlov and his dogs. Anyway, it worked. You beat the game and baby realized his morning breakfast tasted much better when not scraped off his bib first. It was win-win.

Now the children are older. Everyone is sleeping and the problems are different (different blog). And never again will you discount the value of a good night's sleep. But WAIT...

The cat has started meowing at 4am. Just a one time thing, you think. You get up, open the door to let him out (he turns his back and struts into the kitchen). You look into his bowl (there's still plenty of food). He lays at your feet and stretches. You curse a little and go back to bed. Next night, same thing. Are you kidding me? What does he want? Terror fills you. PTSD!!! You realized your cat is now the new baby. Said cat is 5 years old!!

Off to Google you go.

Google tells you that the cat has learned that meowing will get you to come to him and he needs to unlearn this behavior. Pavlov! Google also tells us that to help this along, we should spray the cat with water when he meows in the middle of the night. Fine. Desperate times and all that. We have filled the water bottle. We are armed and ready.

Then we hear the battle cry. Last night at 3:30am, he started. My husband is like "we forgot the water bottle downstairs." I'm like "what else can we use?" He's like "I have no idea." I'm like "can't we just throw a bucket of water on him or spray hair spray." He's like "that's cruel and we don't want to traumatize him." So we wait 25 minutes. Then my husband, a little traumatized himself, had an idea! An awful idea! My husband had a wonderful, awful idea! He crept to the bath, filled his Waterpik and stood at the ready waiting for the next meow. My little soldier.

One meow. Wait make sure the cat's really talking to us. Two meows. Open door. Spray. Cat is already halfway down stairs when door was open 'cause he thought he was getting what he wanted. Water missed target. Close door. Wait. Cat comes back. Meow. Open door. Wait. Cat is confused. Cat comes near door and meows. Cat is sprayed with water. Target hit. Cat flies downstairs. Cat is quiet for rest of night. I'm cracking up. Sorry, it just looked so silly. Waterpik, cat flying down the stairs. Hahaha.

I'm still giggling a few minutes later when my husband gets up. Goes into the bath. Comes back. Waits. I am about to giggle when...I see the Waterpik.

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