The witching hour
Nearly every night, whether we’re upstairs reading or downstairs watching TV, there is that moment when everything falls apart. And it starts out so well, you know? Jason and I will be cuddled up on the couch, Shorty curled into a ball on my lap, Sunny sleeping with an outstretched paw on Jason’s chest, Abby sleeping upstairs on the arm of the couch. It’s nice. It’s quiet, we’re all relaxed, it’s perfect.
And then it comes: the witching hour. Some nights it’s 8:30, other nights 9:00. If we’re lucky, 9:30, when we start to get ready for bed anyway. It always starts out innocently enough: maybe Abby comes downstairs. Maybe Sunny wakes up and stretches. Maybe Shorty runs upstairs to get a drink.
No matter how it starts, the end result is the same: absolute chaos. If Abby comes downstairs, Sunny attacks her. If Sunny wakes up and stretches, Shorty gets hyper and races around the room barking, bouncing off furniture, cats and people. If Shorty goes upstairs, Abby blocks his way, hissing and growling.
And it just escalates from there. One cat meows incessantly for food that won’t be doled out for another hour, another cat meows in a dangerous tone at the dog, and the dog decides any movement is delicious prey to be hunted.
After a long, exhausting day, the best part of the night is making it through that witching hour: when the cats are finally fed, the dog’s yawning and sleepy in his room, and we’re in bed. And things are calm again.
Until next time.
Do you have a witching hour at your house?
Yes. It starts when the kids wake up and ends when they go to sleep.
Comment by Fiona Picklebottom — February 5, 2010 @ 5:36 pm
Oh yeah. But we call it dinnertime.
Comment by nonsoccermom — February 5, 2010 @ 8:00 pm
5-6 in the evening. Shoot me.
Comment by Nowheymama — February 6, 2010 @ 7:05 am
I’m with Fiona. But really, for us, it’s 5-7 pm. The kidlet is overtired from a long day and not napping, throw in a little hunger and you’ve got yourself a whiny, volatile child dancing the edge of a meltdown.
Comment by Shelly — February 6, 2010 @ 2:01 pm
Um, I have more a witching “week” where Oscar is INSANE and runs around like crazy and barks at everything. Then, at the end of the week…all is calm and Oscar is back to his sweet loving cuddly self. so bizarre.
Comment by Sarah — February 7, 2010 @ 3:17 pm
its not a specific hour, more like any time nick and hobbes decided to play tug o war!
Comment by fritz — February 8, 2010 @ 7:57 am
Can’t you sneak them some doggie-downers?
Comment by Ellie — February 8, 2010 @ 8:31 am
Fiona nailed this one. But yeah, anyone with kids can totally relate. There is definitely a point in the evening when the kids have. had. it. It’s time to go bed, and you cannot get them there quickly enough, short of throwing them.
Comment by Shelly — February 8, 2010 @ 9:35 am
No, we don’t. But I’m sure we will once we have kids.
Comment by Jess — February 8, 2010 @ 12:41 pm
The half hour or so while I’m making the kids their lunch- I always leave it til too late, and they’re cranky and hungry and begging for snacks which I won’t give them so that they don’t get too full for their meal, so instead they fight and throw toys everywhere.
Comment by Sarah — February 8, 2010 @ 10:22 pm
freaking kids and their furry darn snouts. Those snouts need so many kisses.
Comment by parkingathome — February 9, 2010 @ 12:35 am
With our cat, Kabuki, it was 5:30 AM…every day. She was relentless. Once she made sure we were out of bed and up for the day, she would curl up and take a nap. Her work was done.
Comment by Becky — February 9, 2010 @ 5:27 am
Pretty much ditto on all the comments about kids. The witching hours before bedtime is always when my husband and I look at each other and wonder when the FDA will approve the “Benadryl bomb.” You know, like a bug bomb, but full of sleep inducing yet relatively harmless antihistamines. When the witching hour is bad enough, sometimes I just want to set a couple off, toss them in each kids room, and shut the door.
Comment by G — February 9, 2010 @ 5:19 pm
Not really. I have Luna, my self-absorbed, lazy cat. Whom I love. Sadly I also have Rowdy, my sister’s weiner dog, because I stupidly agreed to babysit him for the week while she’s out of town.
Rowdy and Luna HATE each other. Fortunately Rowdy is smaller than Lu, and she would never lower herself to actually fight with him, so mostly there’s a lot of hissing and barking.
At least until Sat. night.
Comment by amber — February 9, 2010 @ 11:02 pm