Yeesh. I did not mean to go into radio silence mode immediately after announcing Thomas Jefferson's impending arrival. (Did I mention that we are calling the baby Thomas Jefferson? We don't know if the baby is a boy or a girl -- and will probably not find out -- but the girls have decreed that until he or she arrives, Thomas Jefferson it is. Not Tommy, not TJ, not even Just Plain Tom. This is what happens when you tell your kids about the baby over President's Day weekend.)
Thank you all for your good wishes and kind words; your comments and emails were lovely spots of brightness in what was otherwise a rough stretch. Although we are all fine, the same could not be said for several of my friends, which took the wind out of my blogging sails for a while, and then we were coming up on our ultrasound, and I tend to go mute before such things. Everything was fine -- an appropriate number of arms and legs and organs, various parts measuring as they should, a four-chambered heart pulsing like a star, a sweet pert little nose in profile. I am acutely aware of how lucky we are, and also that it is not a guarantee that things will go smoothly, but it was a lovely moment nevertheless.
And since then, we've just been swamped. All sorts of projects are due at approximately the same time, and so I have let all sorts of things -- blogging, housecleaning, parenting-- slide. Which brings me to my question of the day:
How...resilient...are these Webkinz critters? I mean, can one kill them?
You see, the girls received their first Webkinz (and how much do I loathe that Z on the end?) for Easter, and while I know that I SHOULD be all hands-on and involved in their forays into Webkinz world, I really, really will not have the time to really explore their cutesy virtual society for the next two weeks or so. One could look at this as an opportunity for the girls to learn about natural consequences and experience independent learning; on the other hand, one could also be concerned about the damage control that will become necessary if Blackie and Cheeky suddenly shuffle off their pixelated coils due to owner neglect and a strict diet of cream soda and lollipops. So, can I safely let them explore on their own for a little while, or should I be booking some appointments with a therapist at the same time I'm registering the girls for summer camp?