16 April 2015

in the bark of the night.

So our neighbor has this dog.  I know nothing of the breed, gender, age, size - anything really.  Except what it sounds like.  I know extremely well what the dog sounds like.  Sometimes I've heard that dog so much in a short amount of time that I forget the fact that I am anti-animal-cruelty and I... make some threats.

And then I remember that we make the noise situation around these parts pretty bad, too.  Theo has been more vocal lately whenever he gets unhappy, and since the weather has been nice the last month we've had our windows open pretty much 24/7.  Most of the time I get the nearest window closed during a freakout, but Theo has started executing the backward-dive-bomb move when he's particularly angry, and sometimes it's between making sure my kid doesn't crack his skull open or sparing my neighbors the deafening baby screams (which sometimes set off the dog).  So basically, between the dog and our kid, we are really nailing the surrounding area with a double-whammy of overwhelmingly obnoxious sounds.

What I'm trying to depict here is an image of noise.  Loud, constant, annoying noise.  I'm not a fan of noise.  It's one of the first things to ignite my temper and it is the only thing that makes me miss those silent YSA ward sacrament meetings.  I associate it with chaos, discord, messiness and modern-day pop music (the latter resulting in a twist of fate I call "oh lord I'm turning into my parents").  Not to mention, noise is apparently what will set a zombie off on a rampage - thereby, noise will be what kills me in the end.

And while most days I sit and wonder in absolute terror if this is the new norm, really the best I can do is just invent truths to make the fact of all the noise a little easier to swallow.

Like, the neighbor's dog is helping rescue 99 stolen puppies Twilight Bark-style.  Every single day.
And, Theo is learning to express himself and this will lead to some profound piece of artistry one day.

It's all a load, but sometimes it works.  And when it doesn't, then it's chocolate and Dr. Pepper to the rescue.  I should probably give some to our neighbors.