Tuesday dawned, and I hurried about to get fed, showered and ready in order to try to get to Walmart in time for the Wii's to hit the shelves at 10:30 AM.
Yeah, I had a snowball's chance in Honduras on that one. I walked into the Electronics department at 10:32. People were lined up at 7:00 and the Wii's weren't even still in the building by the time we arrived.
So, we picked up some random stuff and headed home. I fed Rowan a little bit of her rice cereal and a whole lot of prunes (hoping they would work their magic), nursed her and put her down for a nap.
Due to the recent lack of sleep at night (she's not staying asleep between the hours of 7 and 11 like she used to), she slept blissfully. For hours. I prepared the enchiladas I would later pop in the oven for dinner, froze some banana baby food for Rowan, tried to make some carrot baby food (tough carrots = garbage), cleaned up the kitchen, and tackled the big pile of junk on the kitchen table.
Around 3, Lucy started to look agitated. She ran, at top speed, up the stairs. Then, she ran down. And sat. Looking at me. POINTEDLY.
I stood up, and she ran to the bottom of the steps, dancing in circles. I took a few steps, and she went up, just four steps, then turned around.
"Show me, girl!" I said. What's that, Lassie? Timmie's fallen down the well at the old mill?
I cocked an ear and listened, and heard nothing.
What if there's something wrong with the baby? Is she in trouble? Did she put her doudou over her face? Did she puke and choke on it? Maybe she had a poopsplosion? Is she breathing???
I ran up the stairs, and followed Lucy into Rowan's room. She turned and checked to see that I was behind her, did a 360 degree circle, and sat down, pressing her body against the crib, poking her nose between the slats, and looking in at the baby.
Who was sound asleep.
I placed a hand gently on her chest, just to make sure.
And she woke up.
Lucy, jubilant, ran down the stairs to the door, ready for her afternoon walk.
Lassie could have learned a few lessons from Lucy.