still teetering on the edge, but the ants are gone

today would have been better than yesterday had it not been for the fact that Andrew has come down with croup. Croup is scary. Daniel had it when he was a baby and we spent Christmas Eve in the ER that year. The doc gave him the steroid injection this afternoon, so hopefully, things will be OK tonight. I think Daniel has a milder case of it as well.

The ants are gone for the time being and both J and I have a steely resolve to clean up every speck of food left behind from the day's refreshments.

Grief is a funny thing, isn't it? Who am I grieving? Well, it's more of a what. My two kitties who passed away last fall. We'd had them for 10.5 years since they were kittens. We lost one in September and one in October. Pepita was my little buddy, my female ally in a house of XYs. Willy was a great cat, too, more like a dog than a cat. When they died I was pretty far along in my pregnancy. We were heading into the holiday season, too, so although I was sad, there was a lot to be preoccupied about. Then, I had Andrew at the end of December and have been busy managing an infant and a two-year-old since then, plus the botched Sophie the Stray Cat experiment which didn't turn out too well. So, while I missed the cats every now and then, I was frankly glad to not have anything else to take care of. As Andrew's getting older and spending less time with his momma and more time trying to get his brother's attention, I've found myself missing my kitties. Don't get me wrong. I'm not saying that I need something to need me or I feel sad. I'm more saying that because Andrew is needing me less, I'm less preoccupied with his care and my brain has a chance to remind me thatI do still miss my kitties. Know what I mean?

As I said, grief is a funny thing. It can catch you by surprise.