Baby terrorizes cat; endears herself to grandparents (07/31/06)

The plane was only three hours late. Thank goodness we had been warned that there were delays and so had not left when we had originally planned. There are few things more nerve wracking than waiting on a loved one to arrive by plane. All the horror stories one has ever heard come to mind even though flying is probably the safest way to get from one place to another. At least that's what the airlines tell you.

At 20 after seven the information screen at the airport still had the plane arriving at 7:00 p.m. instead of the originally scheduled 4:30 p.m. A lady waiting to pick up her nephew told us that the last time she checked the plane was in the air. If that information was correct then we had a maximum of two hours to go. About 10 minutes later I saw my daughter and granddaughter coming towards us. My husband and I were both overjoyed to see them both safely on the ground. The lady with the nephew disappeared. We never saw her again.

We managed to get about halfway home when my husband stopped to get some White Castle hamburgers for him and my hungry daughter. They devoured the nasty things while I played with the baby. She (my daughter, not the baby) was nostalgic about the taste and my husband told her tales about White Castles. I told the baby to be glad she didn't have any teeth yet and also to be happy that there apparently aren't "sliders" in Houston. I know they have a huge fan base and that they are an acquired taste. I tried them once. I'll leave them for others to enjoy.

The baby slept the last hour of the trip home and was full of energy when we finally turned her loose. Gracie, the calico cat, forgot that we told her about the baby and she came sauntering into the living room then stopped dead in her tracks when she saw six-month-old Emma crawling towards her. Emma crawled forward a step, Gracie backed up a step. Emma crawled another step. Gracie backed up. Then Emma did the unthinkable - she reached for the cat. Gracie turned tail and ran. She has kept out of reach of the baby since then even though she is obviously curious.

We now have baby toys strewn all over the house and the cat toys are kept out of reach. We have both been blessed with lots of slobbery baby kisses. I have been told that baby drool all over one's face is the elixir of youth but I don't believe it. Someone needs to teach baby Emma that kissing is best done with mouth closed and it is not proper form to drip drool on Grandma and Grandpa.

The toys that were saved from my daughter's childhood have brought back memories for her. She insists that they even smell the same as they did back then. Emma doesn't care how they smell. Her only concern is how they taste. So far she prefers the taste of newsprint and plastic measuring cups. I guess plastic toys don't have the same flavor.

I have had the unexpected pleasure of watching my daughter with her daughter. I watch her matter-of-factly clean spit-up and drool off a shirt she just put on. I watch her blow raspberries on a perfect baby belly. Then I laugh when the baby tries to blow raspberries on us. She kisses away the tears that form when Emma loses her balance and topples over. (She's only been sitting up by herself for a short time.) In short, she does everything that I used to do for her, only with more self-assurance and grace.

It makes me think that maybe I wasn't such a bad mother after all; that I must have done something right. Watching the two of them together eases a lot of the self-doubt I have had over the years.

Of course, it helps that Emma is a healthy, happy baby. Now if you'll excuse me it is time for another application of baby drool to my face.[[In-content Ad]]