Monday, September 24, 2007

A Tail of Two Kitties

We're back from the holiday and the cats are home. By the way, the one thing I have to say about the holiday is that we got hit with the most bloody contagious stomach virus you've ever seen. One day Matilda threw up*. The next, Philip got sick. The next, Peter. The next, me. The next, Stella and Peter's mum. The next Peter's dad. Then it started raining.

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Oh, I tell a lie. There was another memorable thing about the holiday. We went to Pennywell Farm, visited their wild bird reserve and came to meet Digger.

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*And by the way, it is a mark of true mummyhood when your toddler throws up in your bra and you're relieved because you won't need to change the sheets on the bed.

Anyway, the cats are both here and it's going swimmingly. Alex has been renamed Scrabble and settled right in. When they first met, Domino hissed at him a bit, and batted at him a bit with his paws, but as far as Scrabble is concerned it's all a big game. (When Domino corners him, Scrabble jumps right over his head, hurtles out and then comes right back for more.) Scrabble tries to rub against Domino, he brings him toys and tries to get him to play (Domino is tempted but he's just clinging to the last shreds of his dignity -for now.) Right now they're sleeping next to each other on our bed, and earlier they were eating from the same dish.

Scrabble: "Do I look cute?"
Domino: "Do I look fat? -Never mind, don't answer..."

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Scrabble is the biggest cuddlepuss you've ever seen. Just seeing us he starts purring away like a little steam engine. He climbs on my lap when I'm breastfeeding Philip and falls asleep, draped over Philip's leg. Matilda is completely in love with her "Scramble" and treats him like a big doll -not that he minds one little bit! She's already established that he has "four legs, two ears and two tails" (yes, she counted his testicles as a tail.)

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Scrabble participates in a sing along:

By the way, the one doing all the shrieking is Matilda. Scrabble was purring his head off.



The Truth behind Digger:

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Gotcha!

Wednesday, September 12, 2007

Gifts

Yesterday I was feeling a little sad, and I was complaining to Peter; I wasn't crying or anything, but I guess I was talking in a sad voice. Matilda leapt into action:

"You're not sad anymore! Mummy, you're not sad anymore! Look, Daddy is coming! Daddy, mummy is not sad anymore." Then she sat on my lap and was trying to cheer me up. "Look mummy, a cheese pig! Look, a cheese cow; Moo!" (She was eating a piece of cheese at the time.) And after that she started cuddling me and saying "Don't cry my little honey, said Babycakes. Don't cry, Mummy-my-honey." This is a quote from a book she loves to read, Bunny my Honey. Don't cry my little honeys, said Mummy Rabbit.

There are many ways of being gifted, I guess. A child can be an early reader, or an early writer, or a talented artist or athlete. Or she could be empathetic, instantly judging other people's mood and wanting to comfort them, and drawing from her own experiences to find suitable tools. At 25 months, Matilda can sing the alphabet song, recognise all upper case letters, tell you which phonic sound a word starts with, count to 20, and knows many, many songs and rhymes by heart. But I would choose her empathy over her other gifts in an instant.




Monday, September 10, 2007

Crazy Cat Lady -the sequel

A couple of weeks ago Peter surprised me by wondering aloud if it might be a good idea to get a second cat "for Domino to have some company." As I started dancing around him, cackling manically and shouting "You SAID IT! You SAID IT! It's out and you can't take it back and YOUR SOUL IS MINE NOW!" (ok, inwardly, but still...) I started plotting my next move. Crazy Cat Lady was back.

After a few failed dealings with Cat Protection Services that I won't get into right now, we decided to go private and get a kitten, and yesterday we went to meet Alex:

Alex (soon to be renamed:)

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Alex is 13 weeks old and we'll pick him up in a couple of weeks when we come back from holiday and bring Domino home from the cattery. Suggestions welcome for a name!

We spent last week at Peter's parents, while he was away on a conference. Philip started crawling a few days before his 6 month birthday (GASP!) and slept 7 hour stretches in the travel cot (TRIPLE GASP!) Now we're home he went back to waking up every 3 hours. I think he wakes up, starts rolling around, gets jammed against me and remembers he fancies a bit of boob (don't we all, says Peter.) So as of last night he got moved to his own crib, with the rails up, and we'll see if he sleeps better. He is capable of going to sleep on his own, because during the night I've heard him waking up, rustling about and chatting to himself, and then falling asleep again. It all seems a bit surreal, and it makes me sad to think that when Matilda moves out of our bed I won't have a baby to cuddle with during the night. Very mixed feelings.

Philip's first day at the beach:

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Matilda doing a bit of modeling:

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Yummy Sand:

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