Life (and death) as we now know it

I have some sad news: Spidey the hermit crab is no longer with us.

I discovered this sad fact Sunday night when I looked in his cage and announced,  “Aw, Spidey is dead.”

“How do you know?” asked Mrs. Cutter.

“Because half of his body has broken off and is decomposing in the cage.”

Spidey was with us for six months, which based on recent experience seems to be the life expectancy for a domestic hermit crab.  I’m not sure why Spidey left us.  With his predecessor, Chief Big Claw, we’re pretty sure that the freezing conditions caused by the snowpocalypse power outage did him in.

Maybe I didn’t care for the crab correctly.  I don’t claim to be an expert on hermit crab care.  I tried to refill his water every night and put more food in his dish when it got empty.  Although he never seemed to eat all that much food, so maybe that was part of the problem.

Or maybe some hermit crabs just aren’t destined for long lives.

On the other hand, the Cutlet is doing well.  Now that she’s six weeks old, we actually made an attempt to have a social life this past weekend.  And we learned what our social life in the post-birth world would be like.

On Friday night, we ventured out to the University of Shady Grove for Comcast’s annual NIH outdoor film festival.  This used to be held at the Strathmore hall located right by us.  It would have been really nice to be able to just walk there.  But apparently, the large grassy area where they used to show the movie is going to be used to build a new condo building.

Apparently, some people think that there should not be any large grassy areas near us. Instead, these areas should be converted into condominium or apartment buildings as quickly as possible.  Didn’t these housing developers learn anything from the recession?  If there is one thing that our area definitely does not need more of, it is more condo or apartment buildings!

Regardless, we drove out to Shady Grove to watch Friday night’s offering: The Blind Side.  While not a movie I would normally go out of my way to see, I wasn’t necessarily opposed to seeing it either.  And despite attempts to market the movie to men, the movie is definitely not about football.  There’s football in it, but it is not a football movie.  It’s a movie about a rich, white woman who helps a poor youth.  Then again, you could make the same argument about Friday Night Lights.   (and Mrs. Cutter makes this argument all the time)

Anyway, we met up with two other couples.  It was fine at first.  We got food, we talked, we had a good time.  We even fed and changed the Cutlet without too much difficulty.

But shortly after the movie began, the Cutlet began to cry.  We’re not sure if it was too much stimulation for her, but she didn’t want to settle down, and Mrs. Cutter and I had to take turns pushing her stroller away from the group, so as not to disturb others.  After awhile, we gave up and headed home.  Mrs. Cutter helpfully revealed the ending of the movie to me: Michael Oher gets drafted by the Ravens.

The next day, we were invited to an afternoon birthday party in nearby Rockville.  A year ago, this would have been a simple trip, but those days are past us. 

We loaded up the car with what seemed to be a week’s worth of supplies.  It couldn’t really be helped.  With a newborn, you really need to plan for every contingency.  Sure, you might not need five clean diapers or two clean onesies, but if you run out, you’ll definitely be sorry.

While at the party, the Cutlet was relatively peaceful.  Since she was sleeping quietly in her car seat, I tucked her out of the way for awhile. 

“Where’s the baby?” someone later asked.

“Oh, I put her under the pool table.”

Hey, she was comfortable, and I wanted to talk about something besides the baby for awhile.  I’ve found that when a baby is visible in the room, it is very difficult for conversation to be about anything besides the baby.

The Cutlet’s time at the party went pretty well.  She got a little fussy, but nothing that a feeding and changing couldn’t fix.  And she seemed content to sleep as Mrs. Cutter carried her around in a Moby sling.

Still, we soon realized that we wouldn’t be able to stay for too long.  Even on her best days, the Cutlet needs to eat every three hours, and will go through periods of crying.  With another feeding looming, and another crying spell sure to come, we decided to head home.

So we learned that we can indeed still have a social life.  Only it’s going to involve bringing a lot of stuff along with us, and we probably won’t be able to stay nearly as long as we would like.  But hey, it’s something!

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About The Cutter

I am the Cutter. I write some stuff. You might like it, you might not. Please decide for yourself.
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2 Responses to Life (and death) as we now know it

  1. Ryan says:

    You did cause my fish Chad to commit suicide, so maybe house pets just aren’t for you?

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