This past weekend was Easter. Which means eggs to decorate, Cadbury eggs to eat, complicated lessons to teach the 3 year olds at church, and a long weekend. Long weekends used to be something I lived for: extra days to sleep in and spread the work over, or do something new and different. Since the addition of the little nugget into our household we have developed a sort of understanding for the way parents feel on the first day of school each August: sadness, wihsfulness for more time with the sweet dear, and a big dose of relief that you will not be the sole entertainer of the little one 24/7. That's pretty much how we felt after this weekend. Our dear little Tulip was a dream on Friday: cuddly, sweet, played well in E's office, didn't bite us, ate on her own, and went to sleep when we wanted her to. As I said, a dream. Then came Saturday, and Sunday. And Monday. To her credit, Miss Tulip is in the midst of an uncomfortable medical situation (which involved McVet and I being up close and personal over her lady bits-not exactly the dream up close and personal time with McVet...) and is being a champ about it. I mean, she let us apply hand cream to her lower abdomen. Needless to say, it was a little rough, and I think she was equally glad to see us off this morning and retire to her crate with Chicken. And her Baby. And Rope. And Headless Hippo. And Lion.
Through the difficult times of the weekend we did perfect her preferred (as determined by us) cuddling position. We call it Full Monkay (which must be said with Olga's accent from her ypga classes). And it involves Tulip being the baby monkey to my tree. She is such a cutie pie most of the time. And McVet taught me how to brush her teeth, which she loves. Because the toothpaste tastes like Kong Paste.
