Wow, has it really been that long since the last post?
In case you were wondering, I did not go into early labor, we weren’t on some swank babymoon and we did not float away in the great Atlanta flood of 2009, although areas surrounding our home were certainly affected.
We did, however, experience a power outage and power surge during a particularly “holy cow, did that just hit our house?” lightning strike that knocked out our DSL modem. And writing on dial-up? Heaven forbid.
I’m hoping to get back up to speed this week with posting now that we’re settling back into our new preschool, pregnancy pains version of normal routine. Until then, I’ll leave you with a little peanut story.
Last week, we had our parents’ night meeting at peanut’s preschool. I’d hired a babysitter – someone who had come recommended and I wanted to try out. While catching up on peanut’s antics while we were out, the sitter asked, “Do you have a cat?”
Me: “We did, why?”
Sitter: “Peanut didn’t kill the cat, right?”
Me: “Um, no. What did he say?”
Sitter: “Peanut told me: ‘We have a cat. I pushed her over, she purred, then she went to heaven.'”
Okay. First of all, this is not at all what happened. The poor kitty was old and very sick and peanut’s behavior toward the cat was actually quite gentle. Second, I’m not sure where this new obsession he has with our cat is coming from. He hasn’t asked after her since the weeks following her passing…until recently. Several times he’s asked when the kitty is coming home. I’ve tried to explain in the least scary terms possible for a three year old, but it’s obviously on his mind.
I’m hoping it doesn’t have anything to do with any fears he may have about the new baby or the changes he sees in me. Although, now that I think about it, I suppose there are some similarities to the cat’s inability to get off the couch and moaning in her last few days and my inability to get off the couch and moaning when I actually do manage to lurch from an awkwardly horizontal position and waddle down the hall.
It probably means the recent badgering we’ve been giving him on listening and keeping his hands to himself will finally sink in…in about nine or ten months. Appears we’re on quite a learning curve at chez High Heeled Mama.