I love pets… really! I swear!

I do. I love them so much I have five! Three cats and two dogs! (Yes I am insane)
I love their snuggles, and their loyalty, their warm purring bodies trapping me in at night. One cat on each part of me not covered by a baby.
(Yes I am becoming claustrophobic.)
I love feeding and caring for five additional creatures. (Nothing like cat and dog food to add to the grocery budget! Oohh, and emptying those catboxes is a dream! Of course, Hubby gets the joy of picking fresh poo up with little plastic baggies, and he will happily tell you how much fun that is!!)

I love cleaning up their vomit, poop, urine, and creative impulses (like the shredded toilet paper roll, or the chewed up baby toy or kiddo stuffy, or couch).

Oh and don’t forget the joy of figuring out what that random smashing sound is, or having nap time interrupted by another round of Kitten Commando.

I simply adore finding random puddles of liquid on my floor, and playing bodily function roulette. Is it pee? Bile? Drool? Water from an illicit indoor afternoon tea? (Please be water… please!)

I think the best part is finding said liquid with my feet! Oh yes, nothing quite like stepping on slightly tepid liquid at five a.m.! Joy! (Especially if it is chunky and squishes between my toes! There is nothing better for waking a person up then stepping in fresh cat vomit!!)

Yes, I think being a pet owner is one of the greatest joys in my life.


Um… belated 400th post-a-versary…

Wow, somewhere in the last two weeks I lost my 400th post, it just passed me by. This is post 411. I can’t believe I have had so much to say! I hope some of it was erudite and entertaining!

So… my darling nearing 7 year old daughter is driving me nuts. I am begging to think that she adds one repetition for each year of age. At three, I only had to ask her to do something three times, at four, it was four times. Now, as we near seven, I swear it is seven times, occasionally eight (everyone needs one to grow one after all).

“Monkey, have you brushed your teeth?”
“Uhh…. no.”
“Okay, please go brush your teeth.”
A few seconds later, I will find her in her room with a doll, or hear her singing in the bathroom, or find her suddenly practicing her piano.
“Monkey! Brush your teeth!”
“But I don’t want to.”
“We go through this every day Monkey, if you are going to eat, you have to brush your teeth. That is your responsibility, they need to be kept healthy and clean. So please, go brush your teeth.”
“Oh, all right.”
She will disappear into her bathroom and I will wait, in vain, for the sound her her electric toothbrush. More minutes will pass.
“Monkey!! Why am I not hearing you brush your teeth?”
“Oh! I needed to use the potty!” or “I wanted to change my shirt!” or “I spilled water on the floor when I was filling up my tea set instead of doing what you have asked me to do so many times that you are beginning to feel like a trained monkey!”
“Okay, well, we are running out of time, so unless you would rather have stinky breath to breathe on people all day long, please brush your teeth!”

Oh my god!! She does this for every single thing I request of her… everything!!
Homework, dinner, room cleaning, socks, shoes, jackets, baths, shower, etc. Everything takes more than one request, usually more than two! Sometimes I feel as though all I ever do is repeat myself!!
It makes me want to stomp my feet and scream “WILL SOMEBODY PLEASE LISTEN TO ME!!”
I will be driven bat-poo-crazy by the time she reaches sixteen, when I will have to write the great american novel, just to get her teeth cleaned!!

One small step for baby…

There we were, eating dinner and watching Sky High, when Lee announced “Otter just walked! All on his own!”.

I whipped my head around but had missed the auspicious moment by seconds.
However, a few moments later the dog walked by, and Otter left the safety of the table and tottered across after her.

All by himself.

Then he did it again, tottering from me to Monkey. Little baby step by little baby step, a huge grin plastered across his face the whole way.

Monkey was shrieking “He walked!! He walked!!! Otter can walk!” at the top of her lungs. Her shrieking made Otter shriek his little high pitched excited giggle. I laughed, Lee laughed, the dog barked. Soon the room was filled with laughter and shrill shouts, a cacophony of joyous noise.

In the middle of it all, a young man, nearly one, who happily watched his family go completely nuts, after taking his first steps.

A perfect family moment, and all three of us were here to see it happen.

We’re moving to Memphis!!

April Fool’s!

While I am sure Memphis is lovely, and I would love to visit it someday, every book I have ever read set in Memphis has mentioned bugs of a size and nature I could not tolerate.

Therefore, there is no moving to Memphis in my future.

I will, however, hum the chorus to “Walking in Memphis”, just long enough to get it stuck in your head.

Walking in Memphis
Walking with my feet ten feet off of Beale
Walking in Memphis
But do I really feel the way I feel?