Monday, January 28, 2013

Here one day, gone the next

We have sad news. Catsby got hit by a car in front of our house yesterday and died. There is no softer way to say it.

Dave called when I was at Target with Edie to tell me. It was so strange to hear while standing in between the toys and the bib aisle. I had just browsed the pet aisle to see if they had any decent cat bowls.

There was no saving her, and the person who hit her didn't stop. One moment she was alive, playing in the neighbor's yard, bolted across our residential street at the wrong time, and met her fate. A few of our neighbors were incredibly kind and helpful at the distraught scene. Dave was going to figure out what to do with her, either bury her or bring her to the vet's office for cremation. It was my duty to tell Edie. I told her in the Target check-out line, which felt so cheap, but it didn't feel right to keep it from her either. I talked to her about it again once we were home, and she asked for her cat.

I told her that Catsby got in an accident and was gone, we weren't going to see her anymore, and she went in cat heaven. I said she could still dream of Catsby though. Edie just asked me "Why?" with a concerned look in her eye, but she didn't cry. So a two year old doesn't fully grasp the concept of death. Do any of us?


Ugh. Losing a pet sucks, and I think only pet lovers truly understand. Catsby was a newer addition to our lives. I don't think we'd even reached our one-year anniversary as her owners, but Dave and I adopted her as a gift for Edie, and she was a great pet. I've mentioned how much Edie fawned over her little buddy. She was humane, and loving, and recently started feeding Catsby with just a little bit of help. Every time Dave or I got Edie up from a nap, we asked what she dreamed about. She always says, "Catsby". I don't want to ask her that for a while.


Pet-adoption authorities highly advocate for keeping cats indoors. They drive the adoption conversation like this: "Your cat will stay indoors, right?" Dave and I even fielded some dirty looks from our neighbors' visiting mother who was obviously judging our decision to let Catsby outside. We both had happy outdoor cats when we were kids, and frankly, they seem less squirrelly, more fit, and less likely to claw the guts out of your furniture than their indoor brethren. Furthermore, Catsby loved going outside and who were we to stop her?


Of course, now I feel bad that we let her out. Although outdoor cats generally live shorter (more exciting) lives, I didn't think it'd be that short. Two years? Whatever happened to nine lives and all that?

I want to adopt another cat. Owning an animal taught Edie about the world, and I like the way she felt on my lap while watching t.v. Next time though, we might keep our little friend inside. We'll see.

Tuesday, January 8, 2013

Jelly's last jam

WHEW.

That's me sighing relief as we move on from December. Don't mistake me, I love the holidays, the family, the socialization, and the ample amounts of food. But I get tired of the holidays, the socialization, and the ample amounts of food. Our families are wonderful, but I also love down time, which is nary to be found in December. And something was missing in my champagne glass this year!

Celebrating Christmas with our girl is starting to get really fun. Her interactions with the world, and ability to talk about them, are amazing. I'm biased and have little comparison, but she's pretty bright and can articulate herself well for a toddler. This is no revelation, but having a kid who is amped about the holiday breathes new life into it, and makes Christmas morning magic in a way that I haven't felt since I was in elementary school.

After celebrating in Connecticut, we traveled to Seattle to spend time with Dave's family and our friends. Just like it used to be when we traveled from there to here, it was a whirlwind week. There are lots of people and places to pack in, and it never seems like you got enough time with any of them. Dave and I visited Lighthouse Coffee, Rancho Bravo, Peak Park (where we got engaged), Prost, my old office, AND did a drive-by of nearly every place we lived since 2006. Dave's favorite sight-seeing remark: "That didn't use to be here". In Seattle, where construction is alive and kicking, you can say that about many former vacant lots and underperforming storefronts.

Considering cross country travel at Christmas with a 2.5 year old while fairly pregnant? Let me tell you a secret: it is a shit-ton of work. And it ain't very comfortable. Oh what? That isn't a secret? Our outbound flight was trecherous (delayed two hours, she cried for half of the country), but we learned some lessons for the way home (made sure she had ample sleep before take-off and mommy's little helper, aka Children's Benadryl). I personally don't mind flying, but the dreaded 5-hour return flight hung over my head like expired egg nog while on the West Coast.

Oh well, I know Dave's family needed some Edie time, which they got! And I had some downtime with built-in childcare, so I read, ran, and worked out (Pocket Yoga app, anyone?) to my heart's content. Do these sound like small luxuries? Because they are.

I may be done running for now. I walked fast on an incline on the treadmill today, and that felt great. I didn't want to go faster, and perhaps my Seattle running excursions were jelly's last jam....for now.

Can I observe how different the second-time pregnancy is than the first? Gone are the days of poring over pregnancy books, hanging on every word. I glance at my weekly Babycenter updates (Cool, my baby's the size of an ear of corn), and generally consider monthly MD appointments a nuisance (they check your weight, blood pressure, pee chemistry, and - this is fun - the baby's heartbeat). I realize these are mostly preventative, and an uncomplicated pregnancy is nothing to sneeze at, but I'd like to just phone it in rather than drive cross-town for these mundane check-ins.

I am happy it's January because we can get back to regular life, but January? Really, you are one of my least favorite months, all dark and cold.