For many proud parents, the day when their child dresses up in their soccer uniform and runs screaming onto the field is a day of much celebration (and hilarity). I love watching kids play soccer. One kid kicks the ball while everyone goes chasing after it. The poor bored kid playing in net has become so despondent that she has sat down in the grass and started picking a dandelion bouquet for her parents for after the game. The ball gets kicked again and this time it goes right into the net. The goaltender is nowhere to be seen because she ran off the field, with dandelions in hand, to find her Mom to take her to the bathroom.
Little kids have many ways of making us smile.
From before birth, our babies make us smile. Every time we go have an ultrasound, we get beautiful images that often make moms-to-be so happy they weep. I haven't yet cried in any of my ultrasounds but the image of the little monster inside me never ceases to make me grin.
Up until about two weeks ago, I couldn't feel 'Peanut' much. I thought I felt it but it turned out to be gas. Last week, the feeling of movement in my guts got stronger (whereas my gas levels stayed the same). I finally had confirmation that my baby was moving!
I immediately made Alex feel my tummy and he agreed that 'Peanut' was doing backflips in there.
Now every time 'Peanut' kicks, there is much excitement. I know this excitement will eventually wear off and the novelty of having something kick me in the guts will become not only tiresome but nauseating. In the meantime, I'm going to enjoy it. I can't say the same for my kitty cat.
Yesterday morning, Marley decided that he wanted to eat my chin. I suspect that he saw that I was growing a beard and thought it needed grooming. (What it needs is waxing).
He lay down over my chest and sat his legs and bum over my tummy. Marley and I have a mutual agreement that this is the most comfortable position for both of us because his pointy paws aren't digging into any part of my chest or stomach and he can sit comfortably without me shooing him off.
Marley then went to town on my fuzzy chin. After about fifteen licks, I felt 'Peanut' start to move. All of a sudden, Marley jumps up on all fours and bolts off my tummy. He was officially spooked. I suspect that 'Peanut' started kicking and hit Marley in what's left of his man-cat-bits. I was right. I got up to find the cat and he was sitting in my desk chair giving himself a hearty lick.
I could not contain myself. I laughed for about twenty minutes and when I told my sister-in-law, we both laughed for another half hour.
Marley's kitty cat pride has been taken down because not only was he kicked in the bits but he was kicked in the bits by something that he can't see to retaliate the guesture. Hypothetically, he could maul my stomach but he would get another swift kick in the bits by my ever growing feet.
Poor cat. He has already learned the hard way that he is no longer the king of his domain. For us, we get to enjoy every minute of this journey (even if it diminishes our cat's dignity).
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