Parenting Styles

Recently we've been having some trouble with Hunter's nocturnal binge eating.  Mostly, the problem is that he's eating the buttons and zippers off Sam's clothes which is pretty much destroying them.

Sam is not happy about this situation.

We've tried to walk him more, make his chew toys available to him while he's in bed, and pretty much every other thing imaginable to no avail.  

It strikes without warning too... he will be fine for a few months and then he goes on these rampages where he's just absolutely unable to control himself.  

Sam wants to punish him, he says that Hunter sleeping in bed with us is a privilege that he is not deserving lately... he thinks Hunter should be relegated to the crate at night this week.  

I can't say I disagree with Sam, but I really enjoy my time with Hunter snuggling.  I am more used to having him in bed than I am Sam after 2nd year!  I also think Sam is being a little drastic.  I think Sam should focus on picking up his clothes so they are not such a target for Hunter in the first place.  

This has really made me realize that Sam and I have very different styles of parenting.  Not that I don't think that Hunter (or kids) should be held accountable for their actions, but I think some of the responsibility lies with the adult who let the pet or child get into that situation in the first place.

As soon as I saw what Hunter was doing last night, I immediately stopped him and put him in his crate.  He whined and was upset, sure.  Sam wanted him to shut up and was half asleep telling me he couldn't put up with much more of the crying, but I stayed firm.  I would not reinforce the idea that crying would get Hunter out of the crate on my life.   And sure enough, he eventually quieted down and I drifted off to sleep.  After a few hours, I woke up, let him out, and brought him back up into bed. 

Here we go...

So I'm sitting at the John Wayne Airport in Orange County, waiting for my flight to Oakland to board.  It would seem my Super Bowl 47 NOLA weekend is underway!  I am here over an hour early, per usual, because that's how I roll.  Gotta love flight-induced anxiety... I am always worried I will miss my plane!

I worked from home this afternoon so I could soak up every last minute with Hunter Puppy before I left tonight.  We cuddled, he napped, we took a couple walks.  He was so bummed when my suitcase came out last night, and today he tried to lay in it while I was packing.  It was like he wanted to come too.

I said goodbye to Hunter about 45 minutes ago, and left him in his crate, which is when the guilt set in.  Our new pet sitter (recommended by dear friends who love their pets as much as we love Hunter) should be arriving in about an hour give or take to spend the night with him.

I am so worried he will be restless and up all night because everything is so unfamiliar.  I am worried he will bark or scratch at the door and keep her up.  I am probably over-thinking everything because she as assured me several times after meeting Hunter that while I may be convinced I own a little terror, he is really a sweetheart.  And she's really good about texting and checking in and letting me know how he is doing so that I don't have to suffer through 'not knowing'.

But it's Sam's Golden Weekend.  I feel like I should be spending my time with the boys and not going off on this amazing trip.  It feels horrible to leave them behind!

Hopefully once I land in Oakland and get some food I will feel better.  Good God I am so hungry!  I told Dad I would like to grab dinner with he and Mom since I am flying during the dinner hour, but that might have been a mistake.  Or I should have at least had some kind of snack before I left.  But again, I was maximizing my time with my puppy.

Mom and Dad are really jazzed, and I am sure I will feed off their energy.  Dad keeps telling us that this is "going to be an adventure" and we're going to have to roll with the punches because it's unlikely we'll have an uneventful experience.  But that is exactly what this will be, an experience.

Papa called me a two nights ago to ask if I was excited yet and I told him it still hadn't sunken in.  He promised me that this will be something I remember for the rest of my life- my first Super Bowl.  Just like my Dad and Uncle Mark had their first Super Bowl experience with Papa.

Tomorrow our charted Southwest plane takes off from Oakland at 9 AM and we land in NOLA around noon PST.  I can't even imagine how that is going to be- a 4 hour flight with a bunch of Super Bowl 47 bound 49er faithful on the quest for six and to extend our title as team with the longest winning streak at the Super Bowl.  It could be the beginning of a very alcoholic weekend.  I wish Carina were coming with us, but she flies in from Denver on Saturday because she has class tomorrow she can't skip.

I will leave you with the packing advice Dad gave me last night: #1 Bring every piece of 49er gear you own.  #2 Pack lots of hangover remedies.  Check, and check, Dad.  I am as ready as I will ever be.  And I am vaguely aware that this is going to be something unlike anything I have seen before.  Something I cannot even imagine (which is saying a lot for me).  And like all great adventures seem to start out on page one:

So it begins...