Several weeks ago, I had a bit of a Mommy Meltdown. It was a day I had both boys, and it was a hard day. Hard days with the boys are few and far between, but when they come boy do they run me down.
This particular day, I had tried to get the boys down for their AM nap, which usually begins somewhere around 9-9:30. Well, they both decided they didn't want to do that - fussing and crying ensued and I caved. I can deal with one crying baby, but when they gang up on me, they win every time. So, we played for a little longer.
By 10:15 or so, Oscar fell asleep nursing, so I put him down. Danny was a little fussy (because he was tired), so I decided to give him a bottle. He drank blissfully and began to drift off, which is very unusual for Danny and a real testament to his exhaustion at this point.
And then, it happened. My dogs started to bark. They're dogs, they do that, and the boys are actually both pretty much okay with it. It doesn't even wake them most times. But this wasn't your ordinary bark. This was an angry bark meant to strike fear in the hearts of mail and package delivery people who dare to set foot upon our porch. Thankfully, these people usually leave after about one second and the dogs stop barking, triumphant that they were once again successful at scaring strangers away from our home.
But, this time the dogs didn't stop. Then, the absolute worst thing that could have possibly happened occurred. The doorbell rang. Then, the dogs when absolutely bananas, barking, salivating, bearing their teeth, raising their hackles, throwing themselves at the door. Danny's eyes fling open, Oscar starts SCREAMING HIS BRAINS OUT upstairs. I get up, and put Danny down so I can check the door, and he starts SCREAMING HIS BRAINS OUT. It is complete pandemonium in my home - babies screaming, dogs barking, doorbells ringing.
I go fight my way through my pack of vicious sounding dogs to the door to see who could possibly be ringing my bell at 10:30AM. It was two Jehovah's Witnesses. I look at them incredulously, and scream (you know, to be heard over the two howling babies and three frantic dogs) "Can you hear my babies crying and my dogs barking? Why won't you leave me alone? GET OUT OF HERE! GO!" And they did, quickly for fear that the fire coming out of my mouth would penetrate the glass door and incinerate them.
Once they left, the dogs calmed down (yeah, we did it again! Take that God solicitors!), I let Danny finish his bottle, and retrieve Oscar from his crib. Peace and sanity reigned again. They boys did not get a morning nap, but when down earlier in the afternoon, and for longer so it all evened out in the end.
Fast forward to this morning. While Oscar was napping and I was playing with Danny, I heard Nebo give a little chuff from his sentry post at the window. I got up and looked to see the same two Jehovah's Witnesses coming down my street. My heart started racing, my palms started sweating - I was honestly embarrassed about my behavior during our last confrontation. It wasn't like me. I'm always nice to the Jehovah's Witnesses. They're just practicing their religion the way they think is best, they don't mean any harm. But I really, really REALLY don't want to deal with them and am so tired of them coming to my door (as they do very often in our neighborhood) and they're at my neighbor's house so I know I'm next! Ahhhh!
So I did the only thing I could think to do to keep them away. I let the dogs out. And it worked.
I really hope I'm not going to hell for this one.
It’s us, but in dead animal form. But not really dead because they weren’t ever alive. Undead? No. That makes them sound like vampires. So not that. Fuck. I don’t know the word. Hey, how long can a title be? Because this seems excessive. Someone should stop me. Jesus. This is as bad as 280-character twitter.