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Go Nigel, Go!
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Would You Like To Buy My Monkeys?
May
29
And You Thought Rabbits Were Bad
by Leslie
I have a situation.
I have seventeen kittens to give away.
You read that right. SEVENTEEN kittens.
You may be wondering how one could end up with seventeen kittens. I’ve put together the following one minute presentation to explain.
So, here’s what I’ve been up to:
In addition to loving and feeding the little furballs, I’ve been wrangling them up, snapping their photos, making flyers and marching my ass all over the place trying to find them homes.
So, you want a kitten?
May
19
A Star Is Born
by Leslie
Julia had her very first piano recital over the weekend. I’m not sure there are words strong enough to describe just how proud I am of her. She played her piece flawlessly. And she kept her finger out of her nose. Take a look:
Feb
28
Ever since her date with Daddy at the library a few weeks ago, Julia has been singing “Build Me Up Buttercup,” a song from a CD they borrowed together that day.
I finally caught one of her performances on video. It’s one minute and forty four seconds you won’t regret watching. Especially around 0:53.
Feb
21
The anticipation of big sisterhood is taking a toll on my firstborn.
Julia has been a living, breathing, hair-cutting contradiction, lately. One moment, I’m “the best mommy in the whole wide world,” and the next, my kisses make her feel “really mad.” Right after yelling at me for looking at her too much, she’ll crawl up in my lap and get in my face to prevent me from speaking to any human being in the world other than her. Sometimes she wants to be called a big girl and sometimes she wants to be my baby; figuring out which time it is feels a lot like walking blindfolded and barefoot into a room filled with mouse traps.
I realize the feelings she is experiencing are only natural and this recent behavior is simply a reflection of those feelings. And I’ve tried to give her a little room to work it all out because, I’ll admit, I’m a little scared about how things are going to change when Lucy comes, and I’m supposed to be the grown-up. So, I’m making every effort to try and put myself in her shoes and be understanding.
But, I cannot understand her desperate need to humiliate me in public.
The child has turned me into one of those parents - you know, the ones you look at with disgust and think, “Woman, put that animal on a leash!” She has a been an uncontrollable maniac anywhere she has an audience of strangers, and I’m the big oaf stomping after her, sometimes making threats, often begging and pleading, occasionally offering a bribe for her just to STOP. Then I get the, “and you’re having another one?” looks. And all I can say is, “I’M SORRY FOR PROCREATING. Clearly, I am out of my depth. PLEASE HELP ME.” Because, do you know how it feels to be that mother in public? It feels like a shit sandwich tastes. I guess. I’ve never eaten a shit sandwich, but, you know, I can’t think of anything that might taste worse right now.
But, the shit sandwich is almost always followed up with something so wonderfully delicious and sweet, you kind of forget about it. For example: Julia’s first funny joke. Up until recently, her jokes went something like this: Why did the house cross the road? FIRE TRUCK! Then, suddenly, one day, after an especially awful trip to the store, she came up with this gem all on her own in the car.
That’s funny! It’s like a real joke. At least it was enough to make me forget for a little while that she hijacked a stroller from the Babies R Us display and took it for a wild ride to the diaper department.
* Lyric from John Lennon’s Julia
Jan
30
But that doesn’t stop me from singing. Badly.
Back by popular Fourier Analyst’s demand, my haiku enthusiast pseudo-album commerical:
Don’t cha wanna sponsor a hot contest like mine? Don’t cha?
Click here for yes. But you gotta do it by Friday.
Jan
7
Like me. Except I’m a girl.
I’m lucky to be married to the best friend I’ve ever had. And today is his birthday. This is for him. (And yeah, it’s a video because that’s what I do.)
Happy Birthday, David. I sure am glad you were born.
Jan
6
It’s What I’m Into
by Leslie
Flight of the Conchords. And yes, you need to watch them all.
Jan
5
I’m an animal lover. Not in a my-cat-has-her-own-blog kind of way, but in a way that has led me to add 18 cats and a dog to our three-cat household since we moved about a year ago to a chunk of property large enough to accomodate a small domestic zoo. Or maybe it’s a farm. If you ask Julia, she’ll tell you we live on a cat farm, which may seem like an accurate description. Although, we don’t breed them - we’re actually The Sterilizers (or The Cha-Chings, as our vet would call us) - we do seem to collect them.
We spend a significant amount of time caring for our formerly displaced pets. There’s a lot of feeding and cleaning and combing and, best of all, loving. Sadly, when you have a larger number of pets, there’s a lot more dying.
Building a “cat house” for our feline friends was fun. Building the pet cemetery was not.
While they are a big part of my life, I don’t often write about the animals I help care for, simply because no one really cares to read about it. (Except you - the few who are still reading. And since everyone else has clicked away and it’s just us, let me tell you, I like you best of all.)
But today, I had to write about it. Because today, my dog died.
Clyde became ours when he was 14 years old; we knew that we would be the ones loving him in the twilight of his life. That still didn’t prepare us to let him go.
The past few days have been hard.
We realized on Wednesday that he was slipping. By Thursday, it became clear that he was dying.
After consulting our vet, we decided the best we could do was make him as comfortable as possible here at home, the place he’d lived more than half of his life. Later that night, he crawled into his bed for the last time. Our cat Matisse climbed in with him; she stayed there, curled up to him, until his very last breath.
I cradled his head and stroked that special spot between his ears, just like I did with Sam as she died. And I told myself, “This is meaningful.” Even if no one else cares.
I will miss him.
Dec
18
After a month of planning and anticipation, the day finally arrived. The Playgroup Chrstmas Party. Julia and I have been so excited about hosting this event. And I’m telling you people, it was AWESOME. We have the best playgroup in all the land. Seriously. You so want to be in our playgroup.
I made and served my standard Santa cupcakes, among other delicious things.
I stacked those edible Santa heads on tiers and surrounded them by cute little keepsake Christmas characters like this -
- each displaying the face of a playgroup member.
I had also made a video slideshow of our playgroup from the past year and put it on DVD as a gift to each of the parents. We viewed it after everyone arrived. Then, the kids played until a special visitor arrived.
I don’t know about you, but I think that’s the hottest Santa I’ve ever seen.
Throughout the chaos, I was able to grab a tiny bit of video. There’s a 20 second snippet of my very hot husband Santa in action here.
I wish I had caught the kid’s reaction when he first came through the door. It was priceless. I’ll never forget Julia and her friends jumping around and shouting, “It’s Santa! It’s Santa!”
We had worried a little bit that Julia might recognize her Daddy through the costume - she’s not easily fooled. But we knew all was well when, after Santa left, Julia told me, “I wish Daddy could have seen Santa!”
Once the big man had left the building, the kids exchanged gifts, which was glorious because the presents were so very thoughtful and appropriate. Every child was gracious and happy, and incredibly willing to share their new toys. I’m telling you - we have the best playgroup in the world. And that’s the best Christmas present I could ever receive - a home full of friends. And maybe seeing Dave in a Santa suit.
Dec
5
The snow has come. We woke this morning to a world wrapped in white. I’m not sure who was more excited to get out and play in it - Dave, Julia or me.
We couldn’t dive in right away, though. First, we had piano class. Then, we had to stop at the store. (I needed some supplies. I got a HUGE buckeye order this morning, above and beyond my usual holiday orders, which is nothing short of a Christmas miracle. Although the Christmas shopping for the children in our family has been done for a while, it now appears that I may be able to give Dave something more than my body wrapped in a bow on Christmas morning. I may actually be able to get him a gift he doesn’t already have. Like my body wrapped in a bow and adorned with some kind of new jewelry. Or fuzzy socks.)
While at the store, we picked up a green saucer sled for $3.95. Then we came home and went straight to it.
The Sled Riding.
I had talked about The Sled Riding and how we were looking forward to some snow, with a friend recently. She said, “It sounds like you love to sled ride. It’s too bad you’ll miss out on it this year.”
And I was all, “Huh?”
She said, “Well, you’re pregnant. You won’t be able to go.”
And I said, “Watch me.”
And you can. If you click here. (There is a one and a half minute video of The Sled Riding. You’ll see Julia go down the hill; Dave attempt and fail to go down the hill; Dave go down the hill; and then yours truly - all big and pregnant - gunning down the hill. At least it felt like I was going incredibly fast while it was happening. It doesn’t look so fast on the video. But people I’m telling you, it was fast. Trust me. It’s why I’m screaming.)
Tomorrow, there will be more of The Sled Riding. This time, with friends!
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I Write A Haiku Each Day
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Categories
- Daily Haiku
- Mommy’s Stuff
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You Should Do This
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Ooooooh. Aaaaah.
