Cow Babysitters

Sometimes I feel guilty about taking Carter down to Landa's during the week, even though it's only for a few hours. She's been pretty good lately, but some days it's all I can do to get her dressed and out the door. (It's even easier if I go for sneak attack and get her bundled into the car before she's even awake...but then of course, I feel guilty about not getting to spend some time with her in the mornings. Sigh.) This morning as I was driving past the heifers who started calving earlier this month, with a still sleeping Carter, I remembered cow babysitters. Before I moved to Colorado, I spent 6 months working for my dad during calving season. During nice warm days when I would be riding through checking all the cows you would come across one cow sitting with 5 or 6 baby calves. The other mother cows would be off some where eating, while this one cow would be taking care of all the kids. I often wondered how they decided who got to watch all the calves and how the babysitter cow determined just how many calves she was going to watch. Nor did I ever figure out how they decide when it was time to come pick junior up, although now having nursed one child, I suspect it had something to do with freedom vs. engorgement. Strangely enough, thinking about cow babysitters made me feel a little better today about dropping Carter off. Even momma cows need some free time!

When Carter isn't playing with her new bunny, she's got our old house cat Pete in the house. She loves Pete, and strangely enough, I think that cat actually must like her because he lets her drag him around, maul him, sit on him and has only tried to bite her once (it was pretty called for...she had him by the tail trying to drag him out from under the couch). Sometimes watching her play with Pete makes me feel better about having another child because I think Carter is just now starting to get a little lonely. She likes having Pete in the house to play with while mom is trying to rush around getting dinner started and picking up the place. The bunny has also been a big hit...with Carter and Dad. Carter decided to name her 'Purple Carrots'. I offered up the name Carrots and she didn't like it, but thought about it, and came up with her version as much better. Now she is pretty sure Dad needs to paint the bunny--you know, purple.


My aunt has been watching Carter one day a week this winter and it's been a hoot I think for both of them. My aunt generally does not like babies or really little kids, but her and Carter have just been getting on famously. This week Carter asked her for an apple, so Linda got her an apple and cut her up a couple slices. Just as she was handing Carter the slices, Carter spied something she wanted even more: CAKE! "Me want THAT" But no, says Aunty, she had just cut up the apple and that's what Carter was going to get. Carter tried giving back the slices, and Aunty still wouldn't let her have any cake. So, pouting a little, Carter took her apples into the living room. A few minutes later she was back with a stool. She got the rest of the apple off the counter, put the slices back together so it was a "whole" apple and put it back in the dish. "Cake now?" Aunty thought it was pretty funny, although I'm not sure if that got Carter her cake or not.


I had a doctor appointment today so I could finally hear the heartbeat of Number 2. Robert came roaring in from Columbus so that he could hear too. My appointment got bumped up (a very rare occasion) and it didn't look like he would make it. I called and told him that the appointment was earlier than expected, so he might as well head back. He was pretty cross, and said he was almost there and make them wait. Right. The appointment took less than 5 minutes, but I was able to talk the doctor into letting us come back once he finally got there to hear the heartbeat. It was worth all the fuss. I'm at 13 weeks 3 days, and Number 2 was at 170 beats/minute--I have a mover! They had a pretty hard time finding it as Number 2 was hiding clear down in my pelvis. The joys of baby number two when everything is a wee stretched out. I really hope I don't have three or they were will looking around my knees, evil thought.


I picked up some Coco Puffs for Carter thinking she might like them and they would be better (slightly, and I could feel comfortably fooled by the term 'Whole Grain Goodness') than candy. Carter was pretty suspicious when she first saw them. She looked in the bowl and looked at me, "Poop?" She thought I had given her a bowl of bunny poop. I have to admit, it looks pretty similar--probably only slightly healthier... I had to eat several before she could be convinced to try them.