Always Looking Out for My Kids

Supposedly there is this connection between mother and child.  As far as I can tell it sounds like some sort of "spidey" sense.  Mothers are supposed to know the hidden meanings behind their child's cry (as in - "that's his tied cry", or "that's his hungry cry") and they are supposed to sense when their children are in danger. I guess these connections came in handy a long long time ago when mother's were the only reasons children survived (you know, or dinosaurs ate the babies). But I think that with feeding schedules, suburbs, and iPhones (yes, I'm blaming the iPhone because even though I have one I think it's too crafty to be trusted) we mothers (or at least me) have lost some of these primal instincts.

For instance, yesterday Chloe was being super cranky.  And, this is very unlike her.  So at first I assumed she was hungry (even though she had already had breakfast, snack, and a bottle) so I gave her some yogurt drops.  That didn't make the cranky stop.  Then I decided that she needed a walk and I knew Evan needed a walk (mostly because he kept telling me he needed to go outside - I heart verbal communication) so off we went.

Well, it turns out that Chloe wasn't trying to communicate that she needed fresh air.  Instead she was telling me she needed to sleep:

Poor little girl completely passed out in the stroller.  And once Evan saw me taking a picture of her he decided he needed some attention as well so I had to take a picture of him as well:

But see how mischievous he looks... it's because he decided he apparently still wasn't getting enough attention so he started to kick Chloe and screamed, "Chlo Chlo wake up."

Thankfully the little girl has figured out how to handle him.  Not only did she stay asleep but she moved so he couldn't reach her when he kicked her:

She never even opened her eyes.

And then there is the whole idea that mother's will do anything to keep their children safe.  Me, I encourage my child to play with stray animals while I stand safely behind a screen door.  Or at least I did that today when Evan went outside (for the first time all by himself... lasted about 20 minutes and I swear I danced a jig) and a neighborhood cat came up to him (and I say "neighborhood" because I've seen him around the neighborhood but that is all I know about him):

Here he is looking at me (through the screen door) and I'm telling him it's okay to pet this stray cat.

And then the cat decided to take matters into his own hands and approached Evan.  I, of course, assured Evan it was okay.

And this was after the first pet.  Then Evan followed the cat around our back yard.  At one point that cat jumped up to sit on a fence so Evan got his little chair and sat down near the cat.  They were in some sort of deep conversation so I didn't want to distract them by taking a picture.

Sometimes I feel like I should get the mother of the year award.