Does Pru look more like her mom or her dad here? Anyone?

Let’s just hope this doesn’t lead to a lifetime of eating soil.

UPDATE:  See also.

I told you it was awesome.  Why did you doubt?

Prior to Pru’s being born and our getting married, much of any given day could be spent composing blog posts in my head.  I could roll around a phrase until it was polished enough for public consumption.  I was able to really work through an assertion and get a final product that I was fairly confident would stand the critical eye of the hoards of people who frequented AGoCh.  I could actually sit down and read Latin.  It was a beautiful time for prose, really. 

After Pru, however, my thoughts have been composed of lists of things I do/don’t want Pru to do.  Samples from the last few days:

A List of Professions We Don’t Want Pru to Consider When She Grows Up:

1. Thief
2. Porn star
3. Welfare Queen
4. Contract killer
5. Lawyer

A List of Things We’d Like Pru to Do Right Now:

1. Nap
2. Sleep
3. Actually Eat and Not Snack
4. Doze
5. Nap

A List of Things Pru Does:

1. Smile
2. Be Cute
3. Be Super Cute
4. Pet Calvin (with help)
5. Eat

A List of Things Pru Doesn’t Do:

1. Nap
2. Nap
3. Sit Without Being Held
4. Nap
5. Nap 

A List of Things That Just Don’t Get Done Around the Apartment Anymore:

1. Sweeping
2. Laundry
3. Sleeping
4. Kitchen counter cleaning
5. Sarah/Pru Getting Dressed (usually one or the other happens but rarely both See:  A List of Things Pru Doesn’t Do)

So basically, blogging tends to get lost in the shuffle.  Which is not to say there aren’t blog-worthy things happening.  We have big plans for our pitch for C-SPAN’s primetime programming.  (Teaser:  it’s a contest reality show)  We definitive critical takes on No Country for Old Men and the ending of There Will Be Blood.  We have so much awesomeness to share it’s just insane.  But, sadly, the blog comes last on the list of things we can do reliably.  We can either feed the baby or we can blog.  It is just impossible to do both.  And if you think it’s an easy decision between the two, you’re wrong.

Today, Angus’s paternity leave ended and Pru celebrated by taking a proper nap. Sure it wasn’t in her bed, but was a start. Mother is going to say a few prayers of thanksgiving now.

Another charming habit was Cal’s former, umm. vomiting problem. He never picked up the idea – which at least some other cats I understand intuit – that one’s litter box can be used for throwing up hairballs, too. Instead, he chose to just throw up wherever, usually on a soft surface like the bath mat or the bed sheets that he was able to claw over to cover the small pile of stomach acid, cat hair and undigested food he’d just summoned forth. Our repeated attempts to explain that it was actually much easier for us to clean up if he vomited on the floor fell on deaf ears. Luckily, improving health plus an aggressive brushing program on our part have kept him vomit-free for a couple months.

Cal also likes to help with making the bed after we’ve done laundry. But, since he lacks opposable thumbs, all he can do to help is lie on the bed as we try to make it, or burrow under the sheets as we’ve got them on, or pounce after the small folds or bunches in the fabric that move past him as we straighten up the sheets. He was particularly helpful last weekend, and your faithful correspondent was there with his camera to capture it.

Using my army-grade night vision:

The epic struggle forever to be known as the Battle of the Sheet was followed by a brief “St. Otteran’s Day Truce” in which the combatants lounged around for a few minutes.

But Mars was not sated! And so, the Battle of the Comforter dawned….

The bright side:  Enough leftover candy to keep us all on a solid sugar high well past Sweet Pea’s due date.

*For comparison.  Here were the two treat-expecting weirdos that spent last Halloween with the Dwyers: