The Cleaning Lady vs. The Killer Cat From Hell

Hello, readers! I'm sorry that I've been m.i.a. this past week, but I'm now back on track, with both blog posts and random early morning wakings (hiccuping baby fetus in tow!). Just to keep you abreast on my life (whether you care or not is completely beside the point)...The baby has flipped to the "head-down" position (thankfully without lights or megaphones in the vagina), I've only gained two pounds since my last doctor's visit (and I've been eating like every meal is my last) and I've scheduled a c-section (only a week later than my due date - eeeeeeeeeek!). All's well here.

As some of you know, being pregnant for the second time is MUCH different than the first. In addition to all my aforementioned posts, there is the matter of the baby shower. For the most part, I understand why people are hesitant to throw a second party. After your first, you've accumulated most of the necessities, so it's not crucial to go through the whole rigmarole again to gather another pile of stuff. That being said...sometimes, especially when your children are close together, there are still things that one needs to purchase and/or duplicate. THIS IS NOT MY WAY OF HINTING THAT I WANT ANOTHER BABY SHOWER. We have bought everything we need to accommodate two kids...so please, I'm not fishing. I'm just sayin'...SOME people need the extra crap.

Anyway, so far we have received the greatest gift one could provide. Because I am 4,000 pounds and most people think I'm carrying AT LEAST two kids in my womb, I'm finding it extremely difficult to a) bend b) squat c) lift d) breath. AND, to top it off, my cleaning skills have been on a steady decline since my first child was born. So, my mother thought it was appropriate, rather than to throw some money into a stroller or a crib, to buy my family six months worth of cleaning service (er...or perhaps it was her way of telling me my house was disgusting?). Either way, I'm not sure there is a better gift in the world.

So my darling cleaning lady (who, of course, I assumed was going to be a big, hairy, fat, elderly woman...not sure where I conjured up that stereotype) came to my house for the first time a month ago and did a "deep clean". She was not hairy, fat or elderly, but rather tall, skinny and quite sweet! She was also here for NINE hours (which probably provides quite a visual of the state my home was in), and she did a fantastic job without any hitches.

The second time, however, we had a slight issue. And it wasn't her cleaning skills. As soon as she arrived, she got straight to work. She travelled to the laundry room to grab her supplies and once she was down there I heard several loud, low growls and then the sound of a baby being murdered. I instantly knew what I was hearing. My stinkin' cat. (Note to my cousin AM - stop reading here or your feline fears will only worsen)

For those of you who haven't had the pleasure of meeting my cat Floyd, here's her back story. She's 13, she's crotchety (and has been so since she was a year and a half - long story, but she basically hasn't been the same since she was fixed). About six months ago, she decided that she was going to become a recluse and live in our spare room, which was great, until we needed it for the "big boy" room. Once we started moving stuff in, she started peeing. ON EVERYTHING. The toddler bed, the closest, the rug, the curtains...whatever she could point and aim at, she hit. At that point, we had two options - 1) put her to sleep, 2) move her to another room and hope for the best. We decided (or rather I decided...I'm sure my husband is still wishing we'd chosen option #1) to move her to the storage room. It's spacious, she's closed off from our other cat (and child), and she can continue her reclusive behaviour in peace. What we all didn't count on, however, was that we would have a biweekly visitor that may throw poor ol' Floyd's schedule outta sync.

Now back to the story at hand. I heard the noise and ran down the stairs, threw open the door and found my 7 foot tall, svelte Eastern European cleaning lady cowering in a corner in the laundry room, and my 7 lb cat ready to pounce, ears back, hissing at a volume that sent my toddler crying into the other room. You can only imagine the sight!

I had to fight the cat off with a paper towel roll and lock her in the boiler room so that the cleaning lady could grab her supplies and run. She was worried that the cat had sensed her dislike for the feline species and that's what sent her into a frenzy. I don't know about that, but it's not often that I see my little kitten in such a state! I was just thankful she didn't instantly drop the windex and run screaming! Rather, she went on with her business, cleaned like a pro, and was out of the house in no time flat.

I'm telling myself that the cleaning went so quickly because of the previous "deep clean"...but I'm sure the reality of the situation is that she just wanted to get the F&$# outta my house...I haven't received any word from the cleaning service itself, but I'm crossing my fingers that she comes back. (Please come back?!?!) I suppose only time will tell! In the interim, keep your cleaning lady's number on speed dial. I may need it.

PS - Wanted to send a quick shout out to The Mullen Family who welcomed their second baby boy into the world this past week. Congrats! Charlie is just as handsome as his big bro. Can't wait to give him a squeeze!