Miss me?There's been a barricade in front of my office door for days now, and it was only removed late last night. So freedom: free to get to my computer (even my laptop was in my office), free to get to my camera (I've had to use Al's to take pictures of my little girl!), free to take Bridget's nap time and write. And watch the dog digging holes in the yard and eating the pine trees through the office window. Oh, the joys of owning a puppy.
Two days ago, I noticed that Bridget is working hard at holding her own head up. She's still a bit unsteady when she does so, but is able to keep it up for a minute or so at a time now. And yesterday when I tried to burp her by sitting her up and leaning her slightly forward, she pushed back. No leaning forward for my little girl any more--she wanted to lean back (more like in a reclining position) and look around. Strong back, strong neck already! And since she was looking around, I got out one of the more colorful toys/rattles to see if she'd look at it--all blues, reds, oranges--the colors they say really draws children's attention. She did look at it for a bit, but I don't think she has a huge attention span yet. It's so interesting to see these little developments, though. Interesting, and fun!
As for me, I go between being rested and having amazing days with my daughter--days in which I can both enjoy her and do laundry, etc.--to being extremely sleep-deprived and crying. To Bridget's credit, her really fussy days are probably my fault. Like the other day when I didn't think about how much caffeine I was ingesting other than the I'm not pregnant anymore thought. And decided to treat myself to a venti non-fat latte, the first I'd had in months and months and months. And proceeded to have two sodas later in the day. And paid for it all night because my baby was fussy and couldn't sleep. Oops. I may be addicted to and able to handle that much caffeine, but my baby isn't. I've got to remember that I may not be pregnant, but I am breastfeeding and Bridget still gets the effects of what I eat and drink. Hey, at least I remember it when it comes to alcohol!
I've held off the reason for the office barricade til now since it's sad news. Serena died early in the morning on Friday, April 3rd, in the office. Since she couldn't walk for the last thirty-six or so hours, there were a few messes/stains which my husband has been graciously trying to clean up and get rid of, as well as a smell that only bothers him (the first time he's been able to smell anything since Sena's been living here, but miraculously I don't have to worry about it, since seasonal allergies have knocked out my nose). We're going to have to rip out the carpet, which may mean I get the wood floors I want in here sooner than expected. :) And although I miss my cat terribly, Al managed to make me laugh about her death. He was at work digging her grave on April 2nd since we knew the end was coming, but he decided to dig it in the front yard right next to our porch rather than the back where my other cat is buried. He used the dog as an excuse, but our yard is big enough and her tie-out short enough that he could have chosen a spot out of her reach. After he buried Serena, he remarked, "I'm surprised the cops didn't show up."
"Why would they?" I asked. "Because it was dark out when you buried her?" (It was around 5:30 am, shortly after I discovered that she had died.)
"Well, yeah, but I dug the hole out front because the neighbors know we have a new baby and see us out back all the time with a crazy, rabid dog (Rhonda editorializing: she's very territorial on her tie-out and we need to break her of that. She jumps, growls nastily, and bites when we go out and she's there). I didn't want them to see me digging a small hole in the ground, too!" At this point, laughter ensued instead of tears.
Only Al would be paranoid that our neighbors would think we are burying our baby to protect our wild puppy that killed her. And really, Mya isn't as bad as he thinks. Bridget is in danger of nothing other than being licked to death by that dog. Perhaps jumped on in a moment of excitement, but she's got us to protect her from Mya's inattentive paws. Sweet, loving, paranoid Al.
More about my actual daughter (versus pets) next post--I promise! Of course, it will be easier to write about her when she actually starts to do things other than eat, sleep, pee, poop, look around, eat, sleep...
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