Pack Position

I took this picture the other day when I was grabbing a quick bite to eat in between all that needs to be done around here.  I would like to say that all moms who are home during the day get to sit down to a nice, wholesome, square meal with their kids at lunchtime, but that’s just not in the cards every day.  Some days my lunch consists of picking at the kids’ sandwiches and veggies before I put them on the table for them; some days I sort of graze my way through the fridge, looking for fast and easy bites I can sneak while trying to put laundry away or clean bathrooms; some days I just throw back a whole bottle of Pinot Grigio with a chaser of Sauvingnon Blanc and a little cordial glass full of Muscat for dessert.

This wasn’t one of those days, fortunately.  I just grabbed some wheat crackers and a few slices of Swiss cheese to nosh on while watching Little Bear roll and frolic on the den floor.

It was then that I became witness to a new phenomenon:  the fight for pack position in the house.

Sherman is the dominant, alpha dog of the family.  Murray–well, Murray is Sherman’s “bitch,” so to speak, and is definitely on the low end of the totem pole, somewhere down there by the squirrels that run the fence lines in the backyard and hide peanut shells in my potted plants and the blue jays that dive bomb the dogs when they’re outside.  Wait, so that would put Murray even lower than the blue jays.  But, I digress.

You can see from this photo that Sherman is none too thrilled with the prospect that there’s a new alpha in the house.  He and Murray’s expressions are hopeful, whereas Little Bear’s is determined and confident.  And it was right after this picture was shot that “Alpha Girl” pulled up on my pant leg, reached her stubby fingers up over the plate’s edge, and grabbed herself a slice of cheese.

Me?  I was just thrilled that she had accomplished a huge developmental milestone:  pulling up.  Since then, she’s been pulling herself up in her crib, and she’s discovered the joys of taller, stand-up toys too.

Sherman?  He just gave an audible sigh and–I swear–shrugged his shoulders as if to say Oh, well, I guess I’ll get the leftovers before moseying off to sleep.

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