New Mother

The last time I routinely saw sunrise was when my children were infants, their biological needs trumping any night-owl tendencies I had. With a six-month-old puppy in the house, the same is true.



We finally got Rex, our foster puppy, to sleep all night in his crate without whining -- a hard-won battle! -- but, like any puppy, his bladder and bowel needs can be rather urgent. Having worked so hard to curb his crate anxiety, I wanted to be sure that we let him out of the crate as early in the morning as we could -- before he started whining.

That means I've seen more early mornings these past two weeks than I have in a very, very long time. This does not amuse me, as you might guess, but I hope it won't last long.

Early mornings aren't the only flashback to those early years.

This picture makes him look small, but he's the same size as Kane (though less bulky).

Three times this week both Steve and I went out, leaving Rex with our son, Peter. The first time was daytime, which is easier for Rex, so we weren't too worried. In the second case, I seriously debated bringing Rex with me -- it was to a meeting of volunteers, and Rex is so calm that I'm sure he would have been fine -- but decided that this would be a good learning opportunity.

The third time, it was for our first date since bringing home the puppy. We arranged our dinner reservation around Rex's sleep schedule. And I felt exactly like I did as a new mother. I felt like I was forgetting something. I wanted to talk about the puppy and all the trials we were having with sleep and toileting. How perfect -- and perfectly frustrating -- he was.

Away from Rex, I found myself checking my phone to see if Peter was having any difficulties, if the dogs were both asleep. If Rex had regressed to his earlier crate anxiety.

I have learned a little from those early days of worrying about my babies at home: I have NOT phoned the sitter. I didn't even text him. That's progress, right?