I owed Rachel a birthday; I was flat on my back with the flu on hers, and felt worse about that than I felt awful for being sick. I think it mattered less to her: she was hitting the magical 14, which meant I had to allow her to date, because, after all, I had allowed Alex to start dating. She went out with the kid named Cheese once (with Char’s dad as chaperone, which I still think is funny as hell) but since then it’s been one thing after another (part of it her own fault) and she hasn’t been out with him since.
When she approached me the other day, I assumed it was going to be to ask me to drive her and Gouda-boy to a movie or McDonald’s or something on Friday. I was fully prepared to say yes, as long as it was someplace acceptable. I hate the idea of her dating, but I’m bending to the inevitable, and it helps that this kid’s parents are at least as protective as we are. For the most part, he’s not going out without supervision, either. They’re satisfied that I insist on driving them where they want to go, and they’re fine with Alex and Stephanie tagging along. So like it or not, when she asked I was going to say yes.
But, she wasn’t asking for a ride; my daughter asked me out on a date. She wanted to collect on her birthday, when I promised to make it up to her. This meant I had to ditch the wife, but fortunately she had other plans anyway.
Now, my daughter’s idea of a good time is shopping. She loves the damned mall, and I knew that’s where we were headed. I hate the damned mall, but I hate shopping in general, and she knows it. She tried reaching for some sort of compromise (though I wasn’t going to balk; this was her date, if she wanted to walk the damned mall, I was going to do it and not whine once) and suggested a movie (at the mall theater) and dinner (at the mall food court.)
My daughter is a cheap date, it seems. She wanted to see Gnomeo and Juliet (something she’d never get Alex or Cheese to go to, I think) but one of us (sorry) misread the movie listing and we got there 20 minutes after it started. So what to do?
Walk the damned mall, then have dinner, and then catch a later show.
I did not mind the whole shopping experience as much as I thought I would. Rachel, for whatever reason, is a window shopper; wandering around looking at crap gives her a bigger thrill than actually buying anything, which did surprise me. At first I thought she was resisting the call of the $150 shoes because she thought it would come out of her own wallet, but even after I told her I'd spend $X on whatever the hell she wanted, she still just shopped without getting anything.
Her logic, which I appreciate, is that just because it’s not her money, that doesn’t mean she wants to waste it. Those shoes were “cute” but not "long term cute", whatever that means. Those shoes wouldn’t match anything and she needs to cull through her closet and get rid of a few old outfits before adding to it. She pointed out things Kevin would like, things Alex would like, and I realized that half the time when she does go shopping with Char or with friends, what she comes home with is typically for one of her brothers. She doesn’t wait for special occasions; she just likes to give gifts.
After an hour and a half, I actually wanted her to want something; hell, I was itching to crack open my wallet and get her whatever the hell she wanted, but we headed for the food court with her just about laughing at me because I “just don’t get it.”
No, but then I’m not a 14 year old girl and if I need something from the mall, I do anything I can to get Char to go get it for me. I almost understand it, though, when she and Char head for the mall together and come home with nothing. Rachel, without her brothers around, in a setting that’s not so focused on her, yet is focused on her, opens up. She talks. I heard more about her friends, what she’s doing in school, what interests her and what bothers her, even more about Cheese than I care to know, than I typically get in two weeks of conversation at home. Char knows how to connect to each of the kids in ways that work best; with Rachel, it’s wandering around the mall, supposedly looking at “not long term cute” shoes.
When we stopped at the food court she was approached by a cluster of girls her age (they walk in clusters, right? It seems rude to say they walk in herds) who wanted to know if she had decided if she was going out for track or softball, and when she said she still wasn’t sure, they tried hard to talk her into track. I sat back and just listened; I didn’t know she was considering school sports at all, and I certainly had no idea she had blown the P.E. teacher away with her time on the quarter mile run and had been told to seriously consider it.
After her friends left I asked her about it. Was she leaning towards one over the other, or did she not want to commit because she didn’t want to join a team at all? She does want to join a team but she doesn’t want to play softball—she’d rather play baseball, but not on the school team because she likes those boys and doesn’t want to show them up (yes, I laughed)—but she’s not sure she’d really be any good on the track team. She can jog, but she doesn’t like the short, hard runs. So, what’s the point?
No one has ever told her about cross country track, I guess. They’ve been focusing on sprints and the quarter mile in P.E. and it didn’t occur to her that on a track team, there are positions for long distance runners. But, she hasn’t trained for that. The first tryouts (for next year’s 9th grade team) are in a couple of weeks, is it even possible to get ready for that?
Rachel is in good shape; while she’s not training in TKD every day anymore, she still trains and she still works out. I don’t think she’ll have a problem even if the tryouts were tomorrow. I said that if she was remotely interested, she needed to go for it. If she wants help training over the next couple of weeks, I can help with that. Running is one thing I do well enough to be of use to her.
What I didn’t realize, though, was that in saying that, I obligated myself to go back into the bowels of the mall to get running shoes. Long term cute running shoes. But at least they weren’t $150.
And the movie—cute. Not something I’d go to on my own, but perfect for an evening out with my daughter.
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Yo Daddy so mean...
Instead of skiing, Char and I have spent the weekend baby wrangling. Erin and Miko have been taking the older kids out to ski and snowboard, and we've been playing in the snow right outside the condo with Travis and Thad; Thad has no clue what he's expected to do out there and Travis only wants to be outside in 10 minute spurts, so it's been a lot of in and out and in and out. Because we're not as mean as Mom, we also haven't been making Travis take both the naps he usually put down for every day, and Erin wonders why he's falling asleep at night so easily for us when he usually fights her tooth and nail.
We're also keeping all the kids with us at night so Erin and Miko can have some kidless time; they're tired. Erin is about to lose her mind keeping up with a toddler and a 10 month old, and Toni has noticed how much attention her brothers get and it pisses her off, so she acts accordingly. There's just not enough Mom to go around; Erin needs a break. All our kids are old enough to keep Toni and Travis entertained in the evenings, and with Mom in another condo, there's no one to pry the baby away from Char. So it's been win-win all weekend. we get the grandkids, Erin and Miko get some down time.
Tomorrow they're heading for home and taking our brood with them, then depositing them at home with their grandfather. That wasn't part of our original plans, but Brad called last night needing a place to crash for a few days while he waits for a new furnace to be installed, and he offered to watch the kids while we took a few days to ski. We're not idiots, we took him up on it. I think Rachel may go over to Erin's to get away from her brothers for a day or two, and that's fine.
Miko reports that Rachel has stuck with Erin nearly the whole time they're skiing, and a lot of what they talked about was what a hardass I can be. Erin can empathize; I was far stricter with her than I have been with Alex and Rachel, mostly because when Erin came to live with us I was clueless about parenting a teenager, much less a teenage girl who had already tripped over a couple of speed bumps. All Rachel knows is that I'm a mean son of a bitch and I never let her do anything fun, which isn't fair at all because Alex gets to do everything.
Erin pointed out to her that she actually has it easier; when Erin was sixteen, I made her wait an entire year before I'd let her go out with Miko. He hung around the house like a love sick puppy, but I was stubborn; they weren't allowed on an actual date until she was nearly seventeen and he had been hanging around the house for nearly a year. Even then, I was an SOB about her curfew, and Miko was just scared enough of me he always had her home early. It put a crimp in their dating style.
I'm hoping that Erin can make Rachel see that I'm not being a punitive asshole; there are reasons why I am strict. I know it seems to her that Alex gets to do everything he wants, but she doesn't stop to think that I'm only relaxing with him as he gets a little older and more mature--and I'm still the one who drives him and Stephanie to where they want to go. I still require him to let me know where he'll be if they walk away from where I drop them off, who they'll be with, and he knows what will happen if he doesn't answer his phone if I call. She doesn't see that most of their "dates" consist of them watching a movie here at home, or taking Tank to the park. She doesn't stop to think that Alex makes deliberate efforts at growing up: he has a job, he pushes himself to do well in school, he's learning to not roll his eyes and talk back.
She doesn't see anything of that because she's 14 and life is simply unfair when you're 14; but it would be helpful if she stopped to remember what Alex went through at her age.
Nothing I say will convince her that I'm anything but mean and that my attempts to thwart her dating life are personal, but at least with Erin she has a sympathetic ear, and an idea of not only how much stricter I could be, but how much I let up when the time is right.
She hasn't asked yet, but Char and I have made sure that there's nothing pressing scheduled next weekend, so if Cheese asks her out, I'll be available to drive them.
Unless Char and I decide to not go home. Staying here might be tempting.
We're also keeping all the kids with us at night so Erin and Miko can have some kidless time; they're tired. Erin is about to lose her mind keeping up with a toddler and a 10 month old, and Toni has noticed how much attention her brothers get and it pisses her off, so she acts accordingly. There's just not enough Mom to go around; Erin needs a break. All our kids are old enough to keep Toni and Travis entertained in the evenings, and with Mom in another condo, there's no one to pry the baby away from Char. So it's been win-win all weekend. we get the grandkids, Erin and Miko get some down time.
Tomorrow they're heading for home and taking our brood with them, then depositing them at home with their grandfather. That wasn't part of our original plans, but Brad called last night needing a place to crash for a few days while he waits for a new furnace to be installed, and he offered to watch the kids while we took a few days to ski. We're not idiots, we took him up on it. I think Rachel may go over to Erin's to get away from her brothers for a day or two, and that's fine.
Miko reports that Rachel has stuck with Erin nearly the whole time they're skiing, and a lot of what they talked about was what a hardass I can be. Erin can empathize; I was far stricter with her than I have been with Alex and Rachel, mostly because when Erin came to live with us I was clueless about parenting a teenager, much less a teenage girl who had already tripped over a couple of speed bumps. All Rachel knows is that I'm a mean son of a bitch and I never let her do anything fun, which isn't fair at all because Alex gets to do everything.
Erin pointed out to her that she actually has it easier; when Erin was sixteen, I made her wait an entire year before I'd let her go out with Miko. He hung around the house like a love sick puppy, but I was stubborn; they weren't allowed on an actual date until she was nearly seventeen and he had been hanging around the house for nearly a year. Even then, I was an SOB about her curfew, and Miko was just scared enough of me he always had her home early. It put a crimp in their dating style.
I'm hoping that Erin can make Rachel see that I'm not being a punitive asshole; there are reasons why I am strict. I know it seems to her that Alex gets to do everything he wants, but she doesn't stop to think that I'm only relaxing with him as he gets a little older and more mature--and I'm still the one who drives him and Stephanie to where they want to go. I still require him to let me know where he'll be if they walk away from where I drop them off, who they'll be with, and he knows what will happen if he doesn't answer his phone if I call. She doesn't see that most of their "dates" consist of them watching a movie here at home, or taking Tank to the park. She doesn't stop to think that Alex makes deliberate efforts at growing up: he has a job, he pushes himself to do well in school, he's learning to not roll his eyes and talk back.
She doesn't see anything of that because she's 14 and life is simply unfair when you're 14; but it would be helpful if she stopped to remember what Alex went through at her age.
Nothing I say will convince her that I'm anything but mean and that my attempts to thwart her dating life are personal, but at least with Erin she has a sympathetic ear, and an idea of not only how much stricter I could be, but how much I let up when the time is right.
She hasn't asked yet, but Char and I have made sure that there's nothing pressing scheduled next weekend, so if Cheese asks her out, I'll be available to drive them.
Unless Char and I decide to not go home. Staying here might be tempting.
Friday, February 18, 2011
A 2 year old and a 14 year old walk into an attitude bar...
Today, Travis is two years old. He's less a baby and more a little boy, and the terrible twos are already coming at Mom and Dad in full force. I can sit back and laugh because we already survived it three times, which was more like 5 times given just how hard Rachel embraced the terrible twos and for how long. Instead of a party, Mom wanted something that would just wear the kids out so that they would go to sleep at a reasonable time tonight and give her a few minutes to breathe, so we're piling all the kids into cars and heading for the condo. Hopes are high that an afternoon playing in the snow and then taking them out for pizza will be enough to exhaust them. But if not, she and Mikko can still wander off for a while tonight and leave the kids with us.
Since the kids have a long weekend, we'll probably stay through Monday, which is annoying the hell out of Rachel. Grounded last weekend, she had another mini-meltdown when Char and I wouldn't just cancel our Valentine's Day plans so that she could go out with Cheese again. It wouldn't have mattered what our plans were; it was a school night, so she wasn't going anywhere. I think she saw a light at the end of the tunnel with Friday approaching, until she realized it was Travis's birthday and we'd had plans in place for quite a while, and there was no getting around it in spite of trying to sucker us into leaving her home with Uncle Craig. Yeah, that's not happening, ever. And evening, sure. A weekend? Not a snowball's chance in hell.
I understand she feels picked on, and I understand that whiny teenaged voice in the back of her head screaming that if she doesn't go out with him again he'll get bored and find another girlfriend. What she doesn't understand is that she really is not going to die if that happens.
My goal in life may become finding creative ways to keep her from dating. She might be ready for it; I am not. As it is I spent all last summer working over time to keep Alex from doing something stupid with his girlfriend; if I have to keep turning the hose on my daughter all this summer, I may have another heart attack.
It might have been easier when they were Travis and Thad's ages, when all we had to really worry about was frustrated toddler temper.
And Kevin is head straight for it; he turns 12 next month, which means puberty and the attitude can't be far behind.
Since the kids have a long weekend, we'll probably stay through Monday, which is annoying the hell out of Rachel. Grounded last weekend, she had another mini-meltdown when Char and I wouldn't just cancel our Valentine's Day plans so that she could go out with Cheese again. It wouldn't have mattered what our plans were; it was a school night, so she wasn't going anywhere. I think she saw a light at the end of the tunnel with Friday approaching, until she realized it was Travis's birthday and we'd had plans in place for quite a while, and there was no getting around it in spite of trying to sucker us into leaving her home with Uncle Craig. Yeah, that's not happening, ever. And evening, sure. A weekend? Not a snowball's chance in hell.
I understand she feels picked on, and I understand that whiny teenaged voice in the back of her head screaming that if she doesn't go out with him again he'll get bored and find another girlfriend. What she doesn't understand is that she really is not going to die if that happens.
My goal in life may become finding creative ways to keep her from dating. She might be ready for it; I am not. As it is I spent all last summer working over time to keep Alex from doing something stupid with his girlfriend; if I have to keep turning the hose on my daughter all this summer, I may have another heart attack.
It might have been easier when they were Travis and Thad's ages, when all we had to really worry about was frustrated toddler temper.
And Kevin is head straight for it; he turns 12 next month, which means puberty and the attitude can't be far behind.
Monday, February 14, 2011
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Teens...
Several days ago we let Rachel know that she would be expected to stay home tonight; she could make plans for tomorrow, even if they involve Cheese and I would drive her (or them) to whatever destination she had in mind. We gave her the advanced notice because Ian was sure that he would be feeling up to snuff today, finally, and we need someone to stay home with Kevin, so that Ian and I can finally get out of the house. She didn't seem to have a problem with this--until today, when Cheese asked her to go to a movie with him.
Now, we specifically targeted Rachel to be home with Kevin (for his sake, we're not referring to it as "babysitting" because that apparently is offensive) because Alex has had plans in place for a long time. Valentine's Day is on a school night this year, and having the sense to plan things out, he and Stephanie decided that they would celebrate it a few days early this year; he picked a nice restaurant, made a reservation, and afterward they'll walk the two blocks to the theater for a movie. He asked us several weeks ago if we would drive them there and if, after we picked them up, if we minded one more stop some place to get dessert, and if we wanted to join them, we were more than welcome (we won't, but that's beside the point.)
Now that Cheese has asked her out, life is woefully unfair. How was she supposed to know that he would want to go out tonight and not tomorrow? Why can't Alex stay home? It's not like he hasn't already been out with Stephanie a million times. We are so unfair!
Ian let her wind up and vent, then reminded her that Alex has done his fair share of staying home to keep an eye on both Kevin and her, and he has canceled plans in the past in order to accommodate our parental whims. Now that she's older, it's her turn to step up and do something she doesn't want to do; Alex had plans first, and his are, frankly, more important.
Then Rachel made her first real mistake. Ian can overlook an occasional flare-up of disappointed temper, but when he said Alex's plans were more important, she said, "Well that's just bullshit!" She said it loudly, and she said it with emphasis of the bullshit.
I just wanted to shake my head sadly. Up until she said that, she was fine. He understood she was upset. But now she's grounded, and ohmygod, you'd think he'd rescinded his permission to date at all, ever again, and told her that she will never speak to, text with, or even think of boys from here on out.
Needless to say, she is so outraged that Kevin was actually uncomfortable being left alone with her tonight.
Ian drove Alex on his date, and during an incidental phone call with my dad a few minutes ago I related his granddaughter's latest teenaged drama queen moment, and when he was done howling with laughter (not that he can relate or anything, because I was never this dramatic. Really!) he said he would be over in half an hour so that we could still go out.
I tried to assure him that we were grown up enough to withstand the disappointment, but no, he insists. The lesson is Rachel's to learn: her temper doesn't get to change anything, and if she's going to act like a small child, she's getting a babysitter like a small child. She is going to be furious when he gets here, because my dad will make her sit in the living room with him. He's not going to let her hide in her room with her cell phone, texting to all her friends about what awful parents she has.
I almost wish we could stick around to witness her entire indignation ;)
Now, we specifically targeted Rachel to be home with Kevin (for his sake, we're not referring to it as "babysitting" because that apparently is offensive) because Alex has had plans in place for a long time. Valentine's Day is on a school night this year, and having the sense to plan things out, he and Stephanie decided that they would celebrate it a few days early this year; he picked a nice restaurant, made a reservation, and afterward they'll walk the two blocks to the theater for a movie. He asked us several weeks ago if we would drive them there and if, after we picked them up, if we minded one more stop some place to get dessert, and if we wanted to join them, we were more than welcome (we won't, but that's beside the point.)
Now that Cheese has asked her out, life is woefully unfair. How was she supposed to know that he would want to go out tonight and not tomorrow? Why can't Alex stay home? It's not like he hasn't already been out with Stephanie a million times. We are so unfair!
Ian let her wind up and vent, then reminded her that Alex has done his fair share of staying home to keep an eye on both Kevin and her, and he has canceled plans in the past in order to accommodate our parental whims. Now that she's older, it's her turn to step up and do something she doesn't want to do; Alex had plans first, and his are, frankly, more important.
Then Rachel made her first real mistake. Ian can overlook an occasional flare-up of disappointed temper, but when he said Alex's plans were more important, she said, "Well that's just bullshit!" She said it loudly, and she said it with emphasis of the bullshit.
I just wanted to shake my head sadly. Up until she said that, she was fine. He understood she was upset. But now she's grounded, and ohmygod, you'd think he'd rescinded his permission to date at all, ever again, and told her that she will never speak to, text with, or even think of boys from here on out.
Needless to say, she is so outraged that Kevin was actually uncomfortable being left alone with her tonight.
Ian drove Alex on his date, and during an incidental phone call with my dad a few minutes ago I related his granddaughter's latest teenaged drama queen moment, and when he was done howling with laughter (not that he can relate or anything, because I was never this dramatic. Really!) he said he would be over in half an hour so that we could still go out.
I tried to assure him that we were grown up enough to withstand the disappointment, but no, he insists. The lesson is Rachel's to learn: her temper doesn't get to change anything, and if she's going to act like a small child, she's getting a babysitter like a small child. She is going to be furious when he gets here, because my dad will make her sit in the living room with him. He's not going to let her hide in her room with her cell phone, texting to all her friends about what awful parents she has.
I almost wish we could stick around to witness her entire indignation ;)
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Kitty No Name No More
Our newest addition spent far too much time without a name; the kids debated it, Ian humored them, and I complained about her nameless state until he pointed out that our other two cats were rarely called the same thing for years and seem to understand who's who. But, during dinner, when given two choices, Oz or Weezer, the vote was 4-1 in favor of Weezer.
My consolation was that Oz can be her middle name ;)
There was some concern yesterday that we weren't going to be able to keep her, after all. One of Kevin's friends was calling around to everyone he knew in the neighborhood because his cat's kittens had gone missing and they had found all but one, and it turned out that yes, this little girl was the missing kitten. He told us, sadly, that he knew where she lived and who owned her, but ten minutes later the boy's mother called back to tell us that they only wanted to know where she was and that she was all right. They were getting ready to try to find homes for all the kittens--and hey, if we wanted another one, they had two more!
One more cat here is enough, at least until Ian decided to become a crazy cat lady.
He is totally taken with this kitten and lets her crawl all over him, and he still says he doesn't like cats. I think he's just afraid he'll have to turn his man card in if he admits he likes the cats as much as he likes the dog. It also amazes me how easily Goofy, Pluto, and Tank accepted her. There was no hissing and spitting and no barking, but I think Weezer is getting tired of being bathed by other cats, and especially by Tank's giant tongue.
My consolation was that Oz can be her middle name ;)
There was some concern yesterday that we weren't going to be able to keep her, after all. One of Kevin's friends was calling around to everyone he knew in the neighborhood because his cat's kittens had gone missing and they had found all but one, and it turned out that yes, this little girl was the missing kitten. He told us, sadly, that he knew where she lived and who owned her, but ten minutes later the boy's mother called back to tell us that they only wanted to know where she was and that she was all right. They were getting ready to try to find homes for all the kittens--and hey, if we wanted another one, they had two more!
One more cat here is enough, at least until Ian decided to become a crazy cat lady.
He is totally taken with this kitten and lets her crawl all over him, and he still says he doesn't like cats. I think he's just afraid he'll have to turn his man card in if he admits he likes the cats as much as he likes the dog. It also amazes me how easily Goofy, Pluto, and Tank accepted her. There was no hissing and spitting and no barking, but I think Weezer is getting tired of being bathed by other cats, and especially by Tank's giant tongue.
Sunday, February 6, 2011
She's still mine, even so
 |
| What a black kitten might look like |
The boys want to call her Lucifer.
My daughter wants to call her Weezer.
Char, Hoover or Dyson.
Kitty needs a new name, I guess.
Saturday, February 5, 2011
It happened because I was sick, dammit
We had a snap of seriously cold weather recently, like half the country, it seems. I slept through a lot of it, but I wasn’t in a coma and I wasn’t immune to hearing the kids both complain about it (we can’t go anywhere!) and celebrate it (no school!) At some point I heard Alex telling Kevin he needed help moving the dog house closer to the back door, which puzzled me because there was no reason to put Tank outside for more than a minute at a time.
But, when I heard Rachel digging in the hall closet, I got up to ask her what they were doing. She was looking for old towels and blankets because there was a kitten hanging around the back yard and they didn’t want it to freeze.
I vaguely remembered hearing the weather on the news; even with the doghouse, that cat would have been a goner. The temperature wasn’t going to come anywhere near zero, and the wind chill was in the sub-twenties.
This is how I know I was sick: I told them to grab it if they could, and then set up a place for it in my office. We have two cats so there was cat food in the house and they’re pretty clever; they could come up with a litter box. I told the kids to make sure the door stayed closed and to keep Tank and our cats away from it, and then went back to bed. And then I forgot about our feline visitor.
Yesterday morning Char reminded me of the extra furball and said it was warming up; the cat would be all right outside as long as I let the kids keep feeding it and provided blankets in the dog house. But it had been in the office long enough already, and if they were feeding it, they might as well keep feeding it inside.
Just keep the dog away from it, so he wouldn’t be tempted to eat it, and the other cats, because they’re both borderline stupid and who knows what they would do?
Yesterday evening, though, someone left the office door open. I heard soft meowing and a dog whining, so I tore into there, afraid Tank was having himself either a snack, or just terrorizing it. I walked into the room where Tank was curled up on the floor and Goofy and Pluto lounged on the chair with this little black furball between them.
There was massive head licking, but no fighting.
I picked the little furball up and realized it was maybe 3 months old. And it purred hard, trying to crawl up my arm so it could rub against my face. With an oh holy crap feeling I sat on the floor and let it crawl on me, wanting to see what Tank and the other cats would do.
And the biggest mistake? Char walked in and saw me playing with this kitten and joined in.
Char presumed we were only left with a few choices: put her back outside (there was a gender check) and risk her running off to who knows what, try to find her a home, or take her to a no kill shelter. Because she knew, without a doubt, that I would not allow another cat in this house.
But, she’s just a kitten and the dog didn’t try to eat her. Goofy and Pluto seem to love her. She might die if put outside. In a shelter she might not find a family for months, and as hard as she was purring, she needs people. I don’t know anyone of our friends who want a cat. And really, what’s one more cat to feed?
I want to keep her.
No, Char couldn’t believe I was saying that any more than I could. The kids spent the afternoon looking for missing cat flyers around the neighborhood just in case, and looked for a mother cat looking for her kitten, but nothing turned up. We’ll still keep an eye out but I think we have another cat.
Her name is Cheeto, and screw the kids, she’s mine.
But, when I heard Rachel digging in the hall closet, I got up to ask her what they were doing. She was looking for old towels and blankets because there was a kitten hanging around the back yard and they didn’t want it to freeze.
I vaguely remembered hearing the weather on the news; even with the doghouse, that cat would have been a goner. The temperature wasn’t going to come anywhere near zero, and the wind chill was in the sub-twenties.
This is how I know I was sick: I told them to grab it if they could, and then set up a place for it in my office. We have two cats so there was cat food in the house and they’re pretty clever; they could come up with a litter box. I told the kids to make sure the door stayed closed and to keep Tank and our cats away from it, and then went back to bed. And then I forgot about our feline visitor.
Yesterday morning Char reminded me of the extra furball and said it was warming up; the cat would be all right outside as long as I let the kids keep feeding it and provided blankets in the dog house. But it had been in the office long enough already, and if they were feeding it, they might as well keep feeding it inside.
Just keep the dog away from it, so he wouldn’t be tempted to eat it, and the other cats, because they’re both borderline stupid and who knows what they would do?
Yesterday evening, though, someone left the office door open. I heard soft meowing and a dog whining, so I tore into there, afraid Tank was having himself either a snack, or just terrorizing it. I walked into the room where Tank was curled up on the floor and Goofy and Pluto lounged on the chair with this little black furball between them.
There was massive head licking, but no fighting.
I picked the little furball up and realized it was maybe 3 months old. And it purred hard, trying to crawl up my arm so it could rub against my face. With an oh holy crap feeling I sat on the floor and let it crawl on me, wanting to see what Tank and the other cats would do.
And the biggest mistake? Char walked in and saw me playing with this kitten and joined in.
Char presumed we were only left with a few choices: put her back outside (there was a gender check) and risk her running off to who knows what, try to find her a home, or take her to a no kill shelter. Because she knew, without a doubt, that I would not allow another cat in this house.
But, she’s just a kitten and the dog didn’t try to eat her. Goofy and Pluto seem to love her. She might die if put outside. In a shelter she might not find a family for months, and as hard as she was purring, she needs people. I don’t know anyone of our friends who want a cat. And really, what’s one more cat to feed?
I want to keep her.
No, Char couldn’t believe I was saying that any more than I could. The kids spent the afternoon looking for missing cat flyers around the neighborhood just in case, and looked for a mother cat looking for her kitten, but nothing turned up. We’ll still keep an eye out but I think we have another cat.
Her name is Cheeto, and screw the kids, she’s mine.
Thursday, February 3, 2011
There's always next week
Yesterday evening at around 8:30 I put Alex in charge of his sister and brother, grabbed a stack of DVDs, a bowl of popcorn, and joined Ian in the bedroom. He grumbled all day about not being able to take me anywhere on our anniversary, but for me, just curling up on bed to watch a movie with him was wonderful.
I think I heard a dozen times yesterday, "I'm feeling a lot better. I'm not nearly as tired as I was." He even ate more than a few bites of his lunch, and sat at the table with the rest of the family at dinner. He was determined to be present as much as possible yesterday, worried that if he didn't, he would "ruin" our anniversary.
Propped up in bed, he nibbled at the popcorn and declared he didn't care what we watched, leaving it up to me. I picked one I knew he'd wanted to see, RED, got it going, and then curled up next to him.
Around 8:30 I realized he hadn't said anything for a good 5 minutes and that his breathing had slowed down...he was already deep asleep. So much for feeling better and not being as tired.
But, he had tried hard all day.
This morning he did look better. He's not as pale as he's been and he doesn't feel warm to the touch. The one thing he's wanted to eat lately, Trix, my dad brought over for him and he killed a fairly big bowl of it at breakfast, so I have high hopes that the worst of it is over.
If he keeps improving over the weekend we may have a late celebration next week. My dad said he would stay with the kids if we wanted to go skiing or "something." Nice, Dad ;) I may take him up on it, even if we just head up and sit in the condo and watch the snow outside.
But no matter what he thinks, he didn't "ruin" our anniversary. We spent it together, and that's all that matters.
I think I heard a dozen times yesterday, "I'm feeling a lot better. I'm not nearly as tired as I was." He even ate more than a few bites of his lunch, and sat at the table with the rest of the family at dinner. He was determined to be present as much as possible yesterday, worried that if he didn't, he would "ruin" our anniversary.
Propped up in bed, he nibbled at the popcorn and declared he didn't care what we watched, leaving it up to me. I picked one I knew he'd wanted to see, RED, got it going, and then curled up next to him.
Around 8:30 I realized he hadn't said anything for a good 5 minutes and that his breathing had slowed down...he was already deep asleep. So much for feeling better and not being as tired.
But, he had tried hard all day.
This morning he did look better. He's not as pale as he's been and he doesn't feel warm to the touch. The one thing he's wanted to eat lately, Trix, my dad brought over for him and he killed a fairly big bowl of it at breakfast, so I have high hopes that the worst of it is over.
If he keeps improving over the weekend we may have a late celebration next week. My dad said he would stay with the kids if we wanted to go skiing or "something." Nice, Dad ;) I may take him up on it, even if we just head up and sit in the condo and watch the snow outside.
But no matter what he thinks, he didn't "ruin" our anniversary. We spent it together, and that's all that matters.
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
I'm alive...alive...!
I've been mostly curled up in bed for the last week, feeling like I was run over by a loaded down semi, alternately shivering because I could not get warm, and kicking the blankets off because I felt too hot. I haven't felt that bad in a long time, and I think Char is amazed because I haven't been that still for a long time, either. I slept away much of it, had the TV on when I was awake, but I couldn't tell you what was on, and I drank every time Char told me to. Eating, that was a different matter. Food held no appeal at all, and as much as she wanted me to, I couldn't make myself do more than nibble.
As bad as I felt, I know it was really a fairly mild case of the flu. I wasn't coughing up my lungs, just had a mildly irritating cough once in a while. So there was little doubt that as long as I stayed in bed and stayed hydrated, I'd get over it without any problems.
The thing is, I missed my daughter's birthday. I hate missing birthdays. I missed being the one to drive her to her first date, and while Brad did an excellent job of terrifying her date in my stead, there's nothing like doing the job yourself. Hell, he may have done a better job. I was only going to make him squirm until I dropped the kids off at the mall; Brad went into the theater with them and sat a dozen rows back. Rachel's date, the boy named Cheese, didn't even dare put his arm around her, because that giant, scary black dude would probably lift him out of his chair by his scalp.
I give the kid credit; he still called her the next day, and I don't think either one of them will complain about me being the one driving them places in the future.
But the thing that has me bummed out the most; I'm still running a low temperature and still don't feel up to snuff, and tomorrow is our 16th anniversary. We had plans, all of which Char has already canceled. I'm grateful that we'll still spend it together, but it's liable to just be curled up on the bed watching a DVD, listening to the kids argue in the living room.
We'll make do.
I also had it in my head that Alex would be able to get his learner's permit tomorrow, but apparently I jumped the gun by a month on that. Which, actually, I'm glad about, because by then I'll be able to take him to the DMV for the test.
Char sure as hell doesn't want to.
She refuses to admit he turns 16 this year.
Which is fine, because I refuse to admit I turn 50.
As bad as I felt, I know it was really a fairly mild case of the flu. I wasn't coughing up my lungs, just had a mildly irritating cough once in a while. So there was little doubt that as long as I stayed in bed and stayed hydrated, I'd get over it without any problems.
The thing is, I missed my daughter's birthday. I hate missing birthdays. I missed being the one to drive her to her first date, and while Brad did an excellent job of terrifying her date in my stead, there's nothing like doing the job yourself. Hell, he may have done a better job. I was only going to make him squirm until I dropped the kids off at the mall; Brad went into the theater with them and sat a dozen rows back. Rachel's date, the boy named Cheese, didn't even dare put his arm around her, because that giant, scary black dude would probably lift him out of his chair by his scalp.
I give the kid credit; he still called her the next day, and I don't think either one of them will complain about me being the one driving them places in the future.
But the thing that has me bummed out the most; I'm still running a low temperature and still don't feel up to snuff, and tomorrow is our 16th anniversary. We had plans, all of which Char has already canceled. I'm grateful that we'll still spend it together, but it's liable to just be curled up on the bed watching a DVD, listening to the kids argue in the living room.
We'll make do.
I also had it in my head that Alex would be able to get his learner's permit tomorrow, but apparently I jumped the gun by a month on that. Which, actually, I'm glad about, because by then I'll be able to take him to the DMV for the test.
Char sure as hell doesn't want to.
She refuses to admit he turns 16 this year.
Which is fine, because I refuse to admit I turn 50.
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