Today Alfie is three weeks old. Three weeks ago right now, we were at the hospital. The midwife had broken my water, the contractions were very strong and close together, and we were less than two hours from meeting our daughter. Three weeks is a lightning-fast blink and a lifetime, all at the same time. I cannot remember life without her, just as I cannot imagine life without The Bambino.
Alfie and I went to Mom and Baby Yoga today, run by the kind but demanding Cheryl. Alfie slept through most of the 75-minute session, waking to eat at the end. Mom and Baby yoga is not a meditative, zen-like yoga experience; there are babies crying, crawling, laughing, nursing, and getting diaper changes. The poses, however, are serious. My body has recovered well from birth, but this kicked my butt! I was able to do everything, but my shoulders, hips, and core all noticed the hard work. I fear how my muscles will feel in the morning. We will definitely go back to yoga next week, and every Wednesday that we're in town between now and August. I only wish that there was more than one class per week.
I plan to run either tomorrow or Friday, depending on how sore my legs are. Running even a mile or two will feel amazing. Alfie is too little to run with me, even in her infant seat, and The Bambino is way too much trouble to push right now, so I'll head out solo after Jenn gets home.
In completely unrelated news, we got a strange call yesterday from the microchip company for our cat. Apparently, she had been taken to the vet by someone in the neighborhood who wanted to adopt her. Thankfully the vet checked for a microchip and we were alerted.
This on its own is not that strange. I know that outdoor cats, especially friendly ones, will eat whatever food is offered to them and act like they've never had a real meal. I know that if a cat came to our door, we would pet it and offer it food and water. When I posted that someone tried to steal our cat on Facebook, a lot of my friends admitted that they had accidentally done the same thing. The difference is that this person did not really let up! When Jenn went to get Ella from her house (which is one the same block as ours), she continued to talk about feeding her, letting her into the garage when it rained, etc. Ella comes into our house whenever she wants. She eats dinner every night, is up to date on shots, and loves to play outside. She's half bobcat, for Pete's sake! Ella is back at home, but I have serious doubts that this woman understands that the cat is ours.
We are nervous that this person will really poach our cat, so she is strictly inside for the foreseeable future. She's not going to like it, but how else do you counteract wet cat food several times a day in a neighboring yard?