In Which the Days Fly by Faster Than Stella's Naps

Suddenly it's May.

That means that we institute the practice of the siesta here in Phoenixville. Our little Buddy and Tiny transition from their dogsicle stage to become hot dogs. They pant their way around the yard and when admitted to the Land of the A/C they collapse upon the tile.

I must start using two sets of keys. Much like our friends in the north must heat the car in the winter before beginning activities, we must cool the car in summer. All unnecessary trips are jettisoned for the luxury of indoor activities.

I remember being pregnant this time last year. I was just beginning to emerge from my "morning that lasts 24 hours sickness." Our cat had a batch of kittens on Mother's Day and I watched her give birth twice. She made it look so easy. It was like she was birthing a hairball. A couple full-body contractions and it was over. She even partook of the--we'll call them leftovers.

It was starting to get hot in May 2005. I wasn't very big yet. I was still teaching. We had a party in my ESL classes and my students brought homemade Mexican food. Unfortunately, it was in the classroom for about two hours before we consumed it. Oh, and the air conditioning was broken in my classroom. Oh, and I didn't have my food handlers card. Oh, and I got food poisoning. Oh, and the thought of tostadas and sour cream is now a foul memory. Oh, and I'm dumb. But I got to stay home from work because I was so sick. Oh, and the power went out at our house and thus the air conditioning ceased it's miraculous operations. And I cried. And missed Jamie's swanky end of the year party. Because I was violently vomiting Gatorade.

And so flies the time of having fun. Now look what it brought me: