Merry Merry Quite Contrary how does the story go?




gotta love it when the weather changes…it’s not longer cold (most of the time), the days are sunnier, and all the fun spring/summer dresses come out from hiding in the closet.

but you know what’s not so fun?  my mild case of seasonal insomnia.  that’s right.  while i’m celebrating all of the awesome things that happen when we move from winter to springandsummer (you have to say them together here in oklahoma…since spring is just a small blip before we’re slammed into the heart of summertime), i’m also cursing it.  and the week long of sleepless nights i’m cursed with.

normally, i can handle it like a champ.  i might be a bit grumpy pants, but i snap out of it quickly and then am back to sleeping like a baby.  but this round of insomnia?  i have one Mr Bixby Bartholomew Cornelius Black to thank for making it extra horrible.


yeah, Mr Bix, i’m talking to you…you bug-eyed jerkface of a dog.

dont be fooled by his sweet face and bat ears...i know the true Mr Bix. and right now, hes in "evil" mode.


i mean, i’ve been having enough trouble falling asleep on my own.  the temperature is either too hot or too cold.  i can’t get comfortable.  and while my eyes are like sandpaper when i blink, i cannot get my brain to shut down long enough for me to slip into REM-land.  crap, i even listened to some R.E.M. the other night to try & lull myself to sleep.  and while michael was singing about losing his religion, i was thinking of how i was losing my precious sleep hours.

but then, THEN, you add Evil Mr Bix into the picture.  and i am lucky if it’s only 4am when i fall asleep.

i hate that damn clock

here’s what Evil Mr Bix does.  he pretends like he’s going to be all sweet and cuddly.  then the second i start to almost drift off to sleep, he jumps up and roams around the bed to find a different spot to sleep…of course this wakes me up (his little paws are like lead!) and i have to toss and turn a bit to find a new comfy spot.  finally, we both settle down.  and i start to drift off to sleep.  and BAM! he repeats the whole drill.  THREE EFFING TIMES!  oh, not to mention his toots of pure concentrated evil from hades!  in between each round, he likes to throw in a sneak toot attack just for the hell of it.

finally, i’m lightly dozing…it’s 3:45am and i’ve been struggling to fall asleep since 11pm.  and Evil Mr Bix is tired of the fun game he has been playing for the past 4 hrs.  so instead, he jumps down from the bed and i think “sweet baby jesus, thank you for making him go downstairs”.  but, no.  he sits on his stool, staring at me with his big bug eyes, and does his “wake up mom!  i’m hungry/gotta pee/wanna play” bark.  for 10 minutes.  which, 10 minutes is my limit and i, of course, get up to check his food bowl (there’s food in there), check his water bowl (filled to the brim with fresh water), let him out to pee (he doesn’t need to…he’s already been out 3 times).  then i stare at his “tug of war” toy, snarl at Mr Bix, and go back to bed.

i know what you’re thinking.  you’re thinking “meredith, why don’t you just lock him out of the room?  did you even take him for a walk to wear out his energy?  and furthermore, why do you let him sleep in the bed?”

first of all, that dog is devious.  if i kicked him out, then he’d spend 20 minutes barking.  followed by a nice “spite pee” outside of my bedroom door.  yes, he spite pees…i told you he was sometimes Evil Mr Bix, didnt’ i?  secondly, yes.  we went on a walk.  hell, we went on a walk, i let him out 3 times, AND i played tug of war with him for 20 minutes while i watched RuPaul’s Drag Race.  finally, normally he is snuggly and cuddly and that is why i let him sleep in the bed.

this crap has got to stop, though.  i don’t think i can take it anymore.  i may be forced to send him to boot camp so he’ll clean up his act.  do they have a Maury Povich show that scares the crap out Evil dogs and makes them have a “come to jesus” moment?  does someone know the dog whisperers number?  oh, wait, scratch that.  the dog whisperer would just make me feel like a bad mom for treating Mr Bix like a “human”.


you know what the final, most horrendous insult of it all is?

my alarm clock goes off, i have to peel myself out of bed and force my muscles to let me stand upright.  i have to shower, get ready, got to work, and earn money to provide us with a roof over our head & food in our bellies.  what does Mr Bix do?

he steals my damn pillow and sleeps on


my dog is a real asshole sometimes.