miss julia

Julie is currently going through a transition, sure that is what we will call it. Perhaps a more appropriate description would be "Julie has decided to act out". Like a grumpy teenager, one who constantly yells "You're ruining my life!" and slams the door. She has decided that she needs to let us know how often we disappoint her by constantly sighing at us, staring at us with her big brown eyes (I think in her mind she is trying to push a silent tear out for maximum theatrics), looking at us with disgust and generally doing her best at making us feel like the worst parents in the world.

I can cut her some slack in regards to the hardships of sleep training Paul. Yes he does cry, yes it wakes you up but she needs to power through. Her way of dealing with the situation is to shun us and sleep downstairs on the guest bed, which she has reclaimed as her bed. Last night, feeling unbelievably guilty, I tried to sleep with her in that bed. I snuggled in, without her acknowledging me, and then attempted to move her ass over, as she was taking up the entire bed (it's a queen by the way). She gave me a growl. A growl. Julie growled at me. No teeth were barred or anything but come on, are you serious. I told her to shut it. Which resulted in her then getting up and laying on my head. And pushing me off the bed. So I left. Like a rejected school boy, my tail between my legs, I left. A hour later I came back downstairs, stood in the doorway and muttered "Are you coming up stairs or not?' Gleefully she jumped off the bed, quietly followed me up the stairs and curled up like that muffin I know at me feet.

I still feel guilty and am devising a plan to walk her early mornings or if I have coverage when Paul is sleeping so she feels more appreciated. Holy mind games.