He Understands "Milk!"

The sign language thing? Seems to be working. At least, Mommy and Daddy are getting used to doing the appropriate signs at the appropriate times. (I suppose inappropriate signs are for another blog?)

So, I decided to see if The Prince really got it. Or if he could show me that he got it. When I suspected that it was time to nurse, I did the sign for milk. Guess what? Well, the title gives it away, but he gets it! He got all excited, smiling and shaking his arms. And so, we nursed. This is one of our main points of interaction now. I certainly try not to overuse it, so he doesn't start to think that it means something else, but if he's fussy and I'm not sure if he's hungry, I just ask him. If he's not hungry, he kind of looks away, or looks at me like "Um, no. Silly lady." (He's almost rolling his eyes.) !!!!

Daddy saw The Prince do the sign for dog when said pug ran into the room. The Prince looked at his hand and did the sign (which is sort of like snapping), and even said something that sounded like "Doggeeee!") He hasn't done it for Mommy yet, but I know he's that smart.

And, of course, The Prince is already saying "Mommy." No, really. Sometimes it does seem to be babble on his syllable of choice, but he often does it while looking at me, or when he's crying or hungry. And, then, of course, I ask him if he wants some milk.

Remembering Kitty Chloe

She weighed one pound when we brought her home, exactly enough to be adopted. She had a large head, large meow, and an even bigger personality for such a tiny girl. She was my first best friend in a new neighborhood, my first baby. She liked to be bundled ('swaddled,' as I now recognize it), and my Great Uncle was fooled by one such bundling into thinking that I was holding my child (twelve years old here, mind you!). She climbed up curtains, and once found herself perched on the shoulder of my Great Grandma during Thanksgiving prayer - Grandma didn't even miss a word in the blessing! She stole bits of homemade chicken salad, or whatever she could get. She liked to crunch chip bags, play with scraps of fabric, and get grey fur on your clothes. We snuggled. She greeted me after school and upon waking (usually her choice of time). Her favorite methods of playing alarm clock: messing with the blinds, knocking things off of dressers, and sitting next to my head while breathing on my face. She held grudges. When I went to college, I missed her as much as I missed my family and my home. If I came home for just a few hours, it wasn't enough time for her to get over being mad at me to come out and say hello. After I got married, I lived in a place where she could live, too, and my mom gracefully relinquished custody. Sometimes at the new house I would hear her meowing, and find her just listening to her own voice in the bathroom. She spent the later years of her life doing laps around the house and bellowing for food. She always purred, and accepted new members of the family, whether canine, feline, or human, with tolerant amusement.

Today I remember kitty Chloe, my Russian Blue Creme beauty. I know animals don't have souls, and really we won't even need our pets in heaven, but it's nice to think that there's a pet heaven, or that maybe Jesus will let Chloe into my mansion for me.

The Truth? Today was a Struggle

Today was a struggle. It certainly didn't help that my lack of sleep left me teetering on the edge of I-just-might-lose-it-any-second, but it was a trying day. A trying few weeks, for that matter. Too much to do, not enough time, not enough arms (I was just telling The Prince that if I were an octopus mommy things would be much easier. But I suppose the octopus mommies wish they were centipede mommies!).

I guess I'm still working through my new identity as a mom and what that means for me. I resigned my parttime teaching position so I can stay at home more with The Prince, but that means that this year is the first since kindergarten that I won't be attending or teaching school in some way.

I did go to one of the best conferences I've ever experienced this week. That was part of the time struggle, but I'm definitely glad I worked it in. It challenged the way I see myself as a leader in my church and in my home. And I left with some great books and thoughts to work through. Now to only find the time to do that...

The Prince is teething again. It's been going on for over a week, and this time there's at least three coming in at once. The difficult part there, and I assume this is part of what being a parent is all about, is that I can't do much to help him. A little bit of medicine or frozen banana to munch on, but much of the day he hurts too much to suck. Oh, sweet baby. Special thanks to the nursery workers who took extra-special care of him this morning.

We had a neighborhood BBQ last night, and between that and the conference, my introverted self was soooo relieved to get back to my little quiet condo and the sleeping Prince.

Things I love tonight (well, most nights, but they are especially sweet tonight): thunderstorms, my husband's homemade icecream, The Prince lounging on the boppy after he eats, and the way he puts his tiny head on my shoulder when I burp him. The Prince, not The Hubby.

Of course, it would help with the sleeping thing if I didn't stay up late to work on my blog.

And I would like a pair of Tom's.