Bug

I'm clearly having a little trouble booting myself back into my life after our vacation. I don't know, but something about going from picking fruit off the tree to scraping shellac off an apple is a bit, um, disheartening.
I'm sure you understand.
I had completely convinced myself that we were headed for an early spring when the first few days back were unseasonably warm. Then, it snowed this weekend and reality has officially set in.
It's February.
It's cold.
It's going to be that way for some time.
The one thing- the one single thing- that I am glad to be back for is Nora. She has been terrific. She has an ever-expanding vocabulary that, even when it's not as descriptive as she would like it to be, is always entertaining. For instance, the other night in the bath, she got very agitated. She kept pointing behind me and saying...something garbled. Like every good horror movie heroine, I turned slowly around to look.
And I saw this enormous beetle walking across the light fixture. I then realized that what she was saying was, "Bug lamp up there." Despite my own creepy-crawlies at this ugly thing, I figured I would be a good mom and dispatch the bug. I dutifully took off my shoe and thwacked it with all I had.
At which point, Nora began sobbing. I had apparently killed her new pet. After she pulled herself together enough to really make me feel like a heel, she dried her little face on the towel, looked at me with consternation and said, "Where bug? Is bug working?"
Of course, all absent, loved things must be working. I am a terrible, terrible mother.