lazy Friday blog entry

* Linda’s getting married tomorrow! And can I just say, I am so glad she’s a July bride and not August, because this is going to be one of the last times I get to see most of my favorite Seattle people in one place.

* Guess who’s pregnant? Woo-hoo, more baby cousins!

* Lizardbreath’s baby girl won’t sleep. Moms of toddlers (or former toddlers): head over and give whatever advice you’ve got.

Oh, and thank you Angie for telling me about FailBlog. This made me laugh so hard last night that I snarfed milk out of my nose while I was eating a bowl of cereal.

fail owned pwnd pictures
see more pwn and owned pictures

(Apparently my blog columns are too narrow because the whole picture won’t fit there – same problem I have with embedded YouTube videos. Oh well, you get the idea.)

Happy weekend, everybody.

downsizing the pets

I mentioned a while ago that with the move, we were going to try to re-home Cleo and Greta. We’ve been overwhelmed with four cats, and scaling back to just two felt a lot more manageable. My initial instinct was to keep Cleo and Greta together because they get along with each other really well, but their personalities are so different that it really just isn’t possible.

We found a new home for Greta almost immediately, which surprised me. She’s so skittish around people, I didn’t think anyone would be willing to take her on. But the realtor who sold our house lives here in Duvall and she said she needs a barn cat. Since Greta loves to hunt and isn’t very big on human interaction, Dave and I agreed that arrangement would probably be a really good fit for her. Kim, the realtor, hasn’t taken her yet, but we’ll set that up sometime in the next couple of days.

Cleo proved to be much trickier. She’d be miserable as an outdoor-only cat, she likes to be inside most of the time and she’s a total cuddle-bug. But nobody we knew was in the market for a cat; and with it being kitten season right now, there’s an awful lot of kitties available for adoption.

We asked our friends, family, neighbors, the vet, and then finally I put ads on both craigslist and PetFinder.com. I got a couple of responses from the ads, but they always fell through for one reason or another. I even contacted the no-kill shelter where Dave originally adopted Cleo from, but they’re overfull with cats right now and couldn’t take her back. I was really starting to freak out about what we were going to do with poor Cleo. She’s such a sweet kitty, I figured it would be a breeze to find someone who’d fall in love with her like we did.

On Tuesday, I got the email from the shelter saying that they couldn’t take her back, and I was pretty upset, practically in tears. A few minutes later, I happened to look at my cell phone and saw that I had a voicemail. A lady had called me responding to my craigslist ad for Cleo. She came over to meet her yesterday, and decided to take her home with her.

I’m so relieved and sad at the same time. The lady seemed really sweet; she and her husband lost a cat recently and their other cat was lonely. They also have a dog, but the cats have their own room where the dog can’t bother them if they want to get away from her. And they live in a rural area where Cleo can continue to go outside when she wants to, and no worries about her getting hit by a car. So it’s a great arrangement, really. I couldn’t have asked for better. But we loved her and we’re going to miss her pretty little face, and her giant thumbs, and the way she’d drool on us when she was happy.

Cleo

I hope you have a happy life, baby girl. I really, really do.

Sorry to get all maudlin here, I think I’m just starting to feel sort of emotional and overhwelmed because this move stuff is all really starting to sink in. It’s a good thing, and I’m really excited about it, but major life transitions are scary and stressful, and there’s just no way around that.

As for the cats, I suppose I just need to keep reminding myself that my litter box duties are about to get cut in half, and that should keep me from getting too mopey about it.

language skillz

I have this theory that Cate can say a lot more than we think she can. She says so many things with obvious intent, the only problem is that Dave and I don’t understand her, so a lot of times we chalk it up to babble, when I think she actually is trying to tell us something.

Last night, I was chopping zucchini for dinner and she came in to the kitchen with her little beach ball and threw it to me. Since I was in the middle of making dinner, I couldn’t stop to play with her, so I tried to gently kick the ball toward her. And of course, since I have zero coordination, I missed totally and the ball rolled right past her, several feet away.

Cate turned around and ran after the ball, yelling clear as a bell, “I GO GET IT!!”

And my head exploded. The end.

She did it again this morning. She has another ball that’s really small (about tennis-ball size, but very soft and bouncy), and she threw it to me. I rolled it back to her, and she grabbed it and proudly announced, “I GOT IT!”

I told Patsy about this, and she said this is because Cate and her little daycare friend Mason play with balls in her backyard all the time, and I guess she learned it from him. Still, I am impressed.

Also, my theory that she understands a heck of a lot for someone who doesn’t talk that much? Yeah. Two examples to prove my point:

A. Yesterday evening, we were going to take her outside to play for a while, and Dave was trying to get Cate’s shoes on. He sat down in the dining room chair with her shoes, and she ran away from him to follow me into the next room. I said to her, “Go back to Daddy so he can put your shoes on and we can go outside.” Before you could even blink, she was in Dave’s lap getting her sneakers velcro’ed.

B. We were in the front yard, and she headed for the street to go see the neighbor’s horse. And that’s fine, but some safety issues are non-negotiable, so as we got close to the end of the driveway, I told her she had to hold my hand to cross the street. Normally this isn’t a problem; she definitely understands “hold my hand” and usually doesn’t mind doing it. But on this particular occasion, she was in a mood, so she proceeded to have a huge meltdown and threw herself onto the ground. I sat on the driveway next to her and said, “ok, you need to calm down, or we’re going to go back inside.” A few more gratuitous sniffles and she was fine. Huh. Whaddya know, even threats are starting to work at this age.

So yeah, it’s pretty awesome. Now I just have to figure out what the other 95% of the stuff she says means.

15 days and counting

Hey, did you know that the movers will be here two weeks from tomorrow? TWO WEEKS!!!!

While I go huddle in the corner, chewing my nails and having an anxiety attack about all the packing that I should be doing, here’s a cute video from when we took Cate to the park yesterday:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_I1144Qhmoo

At the beginning, she signs “ball” and says “buh-buh-ball” about the kid and his dad who were playing basketball off to the side. (She ran over there about a half dozen times to say “HI!!” I think she really wanted to play with them.)

Toward the end of the video, she says “a buh-birdie.” I’m not sure why she repeats the B-sounds at the beginnings of certain words – she does the same thing with book and baby. We’re trying really hard to repeat the word back correctly to her, so she doesn’t develop a stutter. But it is awfully cute when she says it her way.

easy like Sunday morning

Friday was probably the worst day for my cold, but yesterday and today have definitely been better. I still have a nasty cough that wakes me up at night, but my voice is back and I don’t feel like death. So you know, progress.

Since I was feeling better, this morning Cate and I went outside to play for a while. One of our neighbors has gone on vacation for two weeks, and she said she was telling everyone in the neighborhood that we’re welcome to raid her garden for fruits and veggies, as long as we water the plants while we’re there. I thought that sounded reasonable enough, so we grabbed some tupperware, the stroller, and set off for their house.

Cate was very sad that their dog was gone, but we made the best of it. I set up the sprinkler in a far part of the garden (this neighbor’s garden is huuuge) and then went to check out the strawberry patch. As it turned out, the strawberries were tiny and not really worth the trouble. (Did you know strawberries grow really close to the ground? And that the gravity of leaning over is not your friend when you’re congested? Right.) But Cate saw them and got all excited and kept trying to grab them (always picking the ones that were half-rotted, of course), so I found a few decent ones, washed them in the hose water, pulled off the stems and let her eat them. I didn’t pick any extras to bring home, though. Maybe when I’m feeling better.

The 13 year-old girl who lives at the house had left her basketball out on the driveway, so Cate and I played catch with it for a little while. (“Ball” is one of the words she says really clearly, and she loves to play with them.) Then, since it was so hot, I carried her over to the sprinkler and let the water hit us a few times. Cate thought it was hilarious. We both came home soaking wet, and she conked out for her nap almost immediately. As my dad would say, she wore herself slap out.

I'd say she's totally over her cold, yes?

It was a good morning.

three things

1. Cate is doing really, really well. Last night was by far the easiest night we’ve had since Dave went out of town. The only tears that were shed was when she bonked her head on the coffee table, and that was over with pretty fast. And today she’s been super-happy, running around, dancing, singing, etc. Basically, she appears to be totally back to her normal self.

2. I am sick as a dog. I can’t breathe, I keep having these coughing spasms that make my sternum ache, and I just generally feel like hell. My head, throat and chest all hurt. It’s been awful.

3. Dave just got home. Praise the saints above.

Hope y’all have a good weekend.

slightly more rested

Yesterday afternoon was pretty awful. Poor Cate was miserable, non-stop coughing and nothing seemed to give her much relief. She didn’t want to play, she didn’t want to walk around, she wouldn’t even talk; she just lay with her head in my lap and occasionally cried when the coughing started to hurt. I couldn’t get her to eat anything, but occasionally she’d drink a little milk or water. And we learned that she likes popsicles, since the cold seemed to help her throat. (Otter Pops, for what it’s worth. No worrying about choking on a popsicle stick.)

Then last night, just out of desperation, I put some Vicks VapoRub on her chest after her bath, and since I’d heard an old wives’ tale that it helps if you put it on the soles of your feet (crazy, I know), I slathered some on her feet too, and then put some socks on so she wouldn’t go slipping and sliding all over the place.

She went down around 9:00, and coughed a lot off and on for the first hour. Then… nothing. I didn’t hear a peep from her until 7 this morning. A chorus of angels sang a joyful hymn, and it was glorious. I have no idea if it was the VapoRub or not, but you can bet your sweet patootie that I’ll be using that trick every time she has a cold from here on out.

This morning, she had a couple of coughing fits, although nothing like yesterday. I decided to take her to the pediatrician anyway, just to be safe. Her doctor said that her lungs are totally clear (yay!), but she now has an ear infection (boo!). Oh well, we caught it early enough that it shouldn’t be causing her any discomfort yet, so we’ve got the antibiotics lined up and we’ll hopefully nip this in the bud before it becomes a problem.

On a different note: back in November when my mom was first diagnosed with breast cancer, she made my dad get a cell phone. (How he managed to survive in the world without one for so long, I have no idea.) My mom was worried that she might have some emergency and not be able to get in touch with him. So he has a cell phone now, but he complains about the fact that no one ever calls him on it. So today, as we were leaving the pediatrician’s office, I made a point to call him on his cell (while he was at the golf course, naturally) to give him the latest update on Cate. I knew he was worried about her (my dad is a Grade A, heavyweight champion Worrywart with a capital W), and I figured it was better to let him know right away, rather than wait until he got home this afternoon. It was so funny, something that small – our conversation lasted less than two minutes – and it totally made his day. Parents are funny.