Ahem… Now that I have your attention…
It’s New Year’s here, and while the fireworks haven’t been as bad as I was led to expect, they are still going off at random. The other night some nearby neighbors put on their own show just before midnight, for well over an hour. A real show, too – not just little ole sparklers. I like fireworks and all, I guess – just not when I’m sleeping.
The dog now refuses to go out after dark. He prefers to cross his paws and hold it ‘til morning, so I have to drag him to the back door and toss him out if I forget to let him out by 5:30 p.m.
Three nights ago, he refused to go out, and I didn’t have the heart to force him into the cold, explosion-filled night. So I let him hold it. The next morning, he went out, quickly peed in the backyard, and returned, looking 3 pounds lighter. I took a quick shower while Kyra roamed free, then took all three kids to a playland in downtown Beijing.
When I returned, Kyra needed a nap, but the dog wouldn’t leave me alone as I tried to get her settled. He was barking and poking and skittering around the house. I put him out, but he just barked to come in. I let him in. He skittered and poked. I put him out again. He barked again. So I let him in, and turned my focus to the search for Kyra’s last remaining pacifiers – apparently she’d hidden them away while I took a shower that morning.
I couldn’t find a pacifier – “pa,” as she calls it, but she needed a nap, so I tossed her in her crib and promised her I’d look for it. She immediately started wailing “pa…. pa….” The dog continued to skitter and poke, despite the fact that there were no discernible fireworks sounds. So I ignored them both and started looking through the kitchen cabinets, drawers and trash can for pa. No luck. I tore that kitchen apart, and decided to go look upstairs.
I stepped out of the kitchen, and that’s when I saw it. Apparently, Casey really did have to go the bathroom, but he was too afraid to go outside. So while I searched for pa in my kitchen, he ran back and forth from the front door to the back, poop popping out of his behind as he went. There was a trail of poop from the sunroom to the entryway where, like a pot of gold, there was a steaming pile of vomit – all of that skittering must’ve affected his stomach, too.
Meanwhile, Kyra was still upstairs wailing away.
You’re laughing now, aren’t you? Well, I have to admit, I was not laughing. Quite the opposite.
By the time I finished picking up poop and mopping the floors, Kyra was asleep. Small blessings. Of course, that was two days ago, and we haven’t had a solid sleep since. She wakes up every hour or so, crying out piteously for pa. And when she’s asleep, it’s a sure bet somebody decides to set off fireworks.
So I am tired and cranky and just a wee bit down on Chinese New Year.
The only good news in all of this is that I found a neighbor with a spare pa (nope, no corner drug store here that sells ‘em). So I hope to sleep well tonight.
Pa will never leave his crib again.
And next time, Casey goes outside before bedtime.