Up all Night, Fi Style

To follow Momma G’s post and keeping with the trial & error theme of being first-time parents, we’ve been doing everything we can to help Fi get healthy (and prevent our happy Anneliese from turning into Fi-Zilla at night b/c she gets crabby). It’s definitely been a crazy week; when you take more baby puke showers than normal showers, even walking-zombie parents know something isn’t right here. From using Nosefrida to Vicks vapor rub/plug-ins and multiple visits to the Ped, Anneliese finally seems to be getting better.

Dealing with Fi being sick really makes me realize parenting is less about pride and more about purpose. Pride is the good feeling from getting compliments on Fi’s outfits (all Momma G), catching funny faces/poses in Pix and on Video (mostly Momma G) and seeing Fi continue to develop and grow. Purpose is the motivation for MG and me getting up 4 times a night/3 nights in a row to make sure Fi is ok, becoming amateur rodeo clowns to make her smile when she’s feeling down and working out a plan so Momma G can eventually stay home with Fi and provide the level of care & attention we want for her, while I make enough money for us to live on.

And while he may not admit it, Fi’s big brother is coming around to the BFB. His barking and running up the stairs to her room when she cries, sitting on the green rug in the nursery when she’s getting ready for bed or standing guard outside her door while we rock her to sleep…all indications that deep down Wallace knows Fi is a part of his wolf pack.

[Insert Wallace speech bubble in classic Cartman voice] “Yeah, I might have said she can stay, but I didn’t say, stay up all night or keep the rest of us up all night! And enough with all the talking and noise. Once in a while is ok (preferably when I’m outside sunning myself), but I draw the line when I’m trying to take my naps. I kinda like the big male human too; he gets me my food in the morning, plays the circle game with me and he’s usually the first one to greet me when the humans come back from their 3 day long trips (10 dog hours), but no need to celebrate it with the non-stop dadadadada noise. We get it, you can talk!

Also, remind me to explain the difference between good touch and bad touch to you later. In a nutshell, good touch = me burrowing into you when you’re on your play-blanket or licking your face after you take a bath; bad touch = any time you reach for me and end up with a clump of my fur. You may think it’s hu-wrareus (you usually laugh diabolically after doing it), but not cool you guys, not cool.

So in conclusion…less noise and talking, especially after I have a hard day at day camp playing (or secretly lounging around), easy on the petting, and you really need to start dropping more food. Have the big humans talked to you about cheese or this aweschum stuff called bacon yet?”