Master Bedroom Turf Wars And Petitions To Management (aka Parents)

Whoever said beds were for sleeping does not understand the baggage we take to bed every afternoon nap time…

So Rockstar has regularly gotten into bickering territorial fights with the dog for some time now. The spot under contention is right under the aircon so JD often calls dibs on it. The Rockstar then discovered the corner of the platform our mattress rests on, next to where the dog likes to lie on the floor, is very useful for leaning or sitting on, when he wants to kick his crocs off and clamber up. Naturally, reasonably, this necessitates a little croc-stamping to remove said footwear.

Look at these two lobbying my mum - "Grandmum watch this on my iPod" vs "Grandmum throw my ball"

The dog on the other hand, considers any movement of crocs, regardless of proximity to her actual position, a grouse-worthy affront. We rarely bark, but we have many other ways of submitting Petitions To Management that involve a throaty grumble and an infinite repertoire of looks. JD should’ve done broadway. And btw she hates being on an actual human bed (friends who house-sat for us tried to carry her into bed once, only to be scratched raw for their efforts).

If you haven’t already guessed – yes I expected some reaction to the upheaval of the political status quo, with the arrival of a new contender in town.

Going...

Going...

And Elvis Has Left The Building.

I bring Ms Rockstar into our bed for brief naps, hoping to get her used to sleeping around the bedroom sounds and smells – I made the mistake during Rockstar’s time of leaving the nanny to get him to sleep in a different room while still on confinement, and then when she left no one could get him to sleep especially in wee hours because he was only used to the nanny. While not clingy to me, Rockstar complains he can’t kick around on the bed nearly as much when she’s there. Obviously he did not consider this a problem when I was the one napping next to him. Apparently baby coo-ing is also difficult to get to sleep to. This necessitated an amendment to the unwritten documentation in our household: Where possible, The Rockstar gets to kick about and fall asleep before Ms Rockstar comes in. (Should The Rockstar fail to fall asleep immediately, she’s coming in anyway.)

And – oh yes, the dog. Presenting her own interpretation of dog-in-a-manger, while being in our bed is of no interest to her, JD nonetheless requires an extra round of head-and-ear scratching, should Ms Rockstar make an appearance.

Campaign tactics

The saga continues…