Oh, the Noise, Noise, Noise, Noise!

I woke up at 3:45 drenched in sweat and without Mr. T snoring at my side. I hobbled to the front window in our room and pulled a corner of the curtain to the side. No car, which meant he wasn't downstairs on the couch, either.

I called him and he was still at work. Something really geeky and computerish broke and they were all still there fixing it.

At 7, Michael Bolton woke me up. Not a good sign. And, Mr. T still wasn't home.

After a mug of coffee and a couple of high-fiber pieces of toast, I went in to get T Junior out of his bed, expecting to hear the rattling of the garage door any minute. But, I didn't.

I carried the baby in just his diaper down the stairs, the three dogs nearly knocking us down as they barreled toward the sliding door to the back yard.

I called Mr. T as I let them outside.

"We're almost done," he promised.

"I just wanted to make sure you are okay." I felt sorry for him, up for 24 hours and then some at that point.

I let the dogs back in, hung up and got to T Junior's breakfast. He screeched at me in his bossy new 11-month-old language, "BUAHHHH, BAH, BUH, UHHHB!" ("HURRY UP MO-OM. I'M STARVIN' HERE!")

"It's comin', it's comin'. Ho-old on."

The dogs were just as bad. There's a line and they were crossing it.

The metal strip between the kitchen linoleum and the living room carpet is the boundary and they were not minding it. Instead, they tap-tapped their nails around my feet as they did their walk-in-place impatience dance. "HURRY UP MO-OM. WE'RE STARVIN' HERE."

"GET OUT!" I pointed my right index finger and they all scrambled. But then Annie started doing this thing where she constantly licks her nose, acting like she was going to puke.

"ARGH. AN-NIE. GET OUTSIDE!" I slid open the glass, she ran out to the lawn and started ripping up grass with her teeth. I shut the door with a bang. "ANYONE ELSE?" I shot narrowed eyes at the other two now sitting at attention next to the couch.

"DAH. OUH!" T Junior slammed the palm of a hand on his tray. Awesome. Great example, Mom.

"They're being good now, honey." I sat down to feed him.

But Annie was back at the door, green blades and saliva bubbles clinging to the underside of her boxer lips, her back hunched in the heavy drizzle out on the deck.

"Just a second, kid." I set the baby food jar and yellow plastic spoon on the kitchen table and got up to let the dog in.

"AAAAHHHHHB! BAH, BAH, BAH, UUUHHHHB, BAH, BAH, BAH!"

"Hey. Stop. I'm coming back. Just a second...DOGS, OUT!"

"DAH. OUH!"

The next one hour and 15 minutes went around and around just like that.

At 9, Mr. T was just leaving the office and Annie was acting like she was going to throw up and T Junior had a grape-sized piece of poo in his dipe that he wanted out NOW.

T Junior goes to day care for a few hours on Wednesdays. It's the day I get a few hours to write and clean or run errands or just sit. I wasn't really planning on having Mr. T home all day asleep upstairs.

At least I know it will be quiet.

Ever have one of those mornings?