Mrs. Maples to the Rescue...and another kitten poop saga

Kittens grow to fast.  I don't think I can use the word kittens anymore.
They are hilarious and awesome and you should meet them.
Moo is basically a dog.  You can do whatever to him and he doesn't care.  Last night he had 3 small boys (my nephews) huddled around him, dangling things over him and the 1 yr. old strongly patting him on the side and he was not traumatized in the least.  Meanwhile Richard Parker is under the couch. He's the smart one.  Moo is needy.  Moo meows in the morning until we let him out of the bathroom.  But then when we do let him out, he hops on the bed and comes meows or purrs in my face.  I have to hide my head and hands (or he'll nibble on them) completely under the covers for him to EVENTUALLY settle down.  And it's only me.  He doesn't do this to Joe at all.  And we can't let them just be in the house at night because (like last night) they wake us up in the middle of the night wrestling or playing on the bed.

Moo




Richard Parker.  He sits funny.  I think he's double jointed.

There is also another poop issue... but with Moo now.  I've started letting them outside some.
Here is Moo.  Looking like he is innocently playing in the empty flower pot.


Ok, in this pic he is just innocently sitting.  But the next week not so much.  Innocent until he jumped out and boom... he had pooped in it.  He had the whole backyard to pick from and he chose concrete.  I don't think that is a normal cat choice.  Poop violation #1.

Poop violation #2:  Fast forward a week later and I find day old poop in the corner of the screen porch.  Maybe that was my fault.  I may have left them on the porch for a few hours with no litter box.   

But then (Poop violation #3),  4 minutes after I cleaned it up, Moo poops in the same spot (again, instead of the great outdoors).   Dammit cat.

Poop violation #4:  I'm on screen porch, to supervise there is no more pooping on it.  The concrete pot is in backyard.  I look over and Moo is in the pot with his front paws perched on the rim.  Oh no.  HE POOPS IN THE POT AGAIN!

Who has to clean up cat poop outside more than inside their house?  But tonight I took them to the way back of the yard and Moo successfully pooped in a pile of pine straw.  Super.  Now, I'm the cat lady who blogs about her cats' poop.


In other news, today was homecoming at OHS.  We have a half day of classes then a field day type carnival the rest of the day.  It's been pretty tame the last two years.  However, today I witnessed/had to be a semi-intervening teacher for 3 crises.  But I'll tell it like Mrs. Maples really saved the day.

Crisis #1)  A skirmish between two girls starts to build near the end of the carnival.  Me and a few other teachers are nearby.  I intervene and diffuse the skirmish by talking one of the girls down.  (But really another teacher did as I watched)... I did give a few final words of encouragement though.."It's not worth it [girl's name], not your senior year homecoming."

Crisis #2) Minutes later I am walking by the bathroom to the stadium when I hear a commotion in the girls' bathroom.  I enter to find two girls crouching on the floor. One of the girls is short of breath and a little hysterical.  She has overheated.  I grab wet paper towels and call for help.  (But really another teacher was there first bending down, telling her to breathe and a second teacher was getting the paper towels.)  I offered moral support and held the girls glasses and cell phone until the nurse arrived.

Crisis #3)  Fight in the stadium.  As students are filing into the bleachers to watch the pep rally a fight breaks out at the top.  I am the only teacher around.  I break up the fight, jerking both girls up by their hair, and take them to the administrators.  (But really the cross country coach was the only teacher nearby.  The rest of us came running up the bleachers when we saw the crowd.  I stood in the aisle to block other students from trying to get into the fighting section and yelled at them to sit down.)

Also this month.  Joe turned 32. 

 Presents are real exciting at 32.  Time magazine, candy, and almonds.
 I also got him some adirondack chairs.

Finally, it's fall.  Joe is the one with the eye and desire to decorate.  We did this last weekend: 

Our old realtor saw it and text Joe:  "Emily sure does have the house looking good" 

Yessssss.  

Inch by inch, poop by puke

 The latest additions to house life:  kittens, porch furniture and plants. 

Kittens are obviously the most exciting.  So I’ll save the best for last. 

Porch Furniture:

2 Saturdays ago we were at home depot (like ya do once you own a home) and we passed by the end of summer sale furniture.  This cute little patio set was sittin there basically calling our name.  We sat, said, “hmm,” then left. 

Dilemma:

We needed furniture for back porch.

But we are also on a budget. 

But it is on sale and it is almost beautiful Fall, porch-sittin weather.

But we are on a budget. 

But if we don’t get it now they won’t have it til spring and prices will be sky high. 

But we just got kittens (which = expensive kitten vaccines)

But but but

End of dilemma resulted in the purchase of furniture after I walked by our empty screen porch and envisioned just how cute the navy blue furniture would look against our mustard colored house. 

Trying it out at the Depot

Assembling friends

PLANTS

Last Saturday we found ourselves back at home depot…where we will certainly be for many Saturdays for the rest of our lives.  We’ve been almost killing this hydrangea plant given to us by Gaga (my cousins’ grandma).   We kept forgetting to water it.  Then we put it out in the sun…cause plants need sun.  Then it looked worse.  It came time to plant.  (because now I know you plant things early fall).  And if we didn’t get it planted it was most certainly gonna die.  Off to home depot we went to buy it a friend.  It’s a good thing for Google cause home depot workers know NOTHING about the plants they sell.  We learned from Google that hydrangeas only need a few hours of morning sun.  Oops. 

Once we found the perfect, partially shady spot we started digging.  Then we struck concrete.  Concrete was apparently permanent and important (our house foundation extending from porch…and kinda ruining our plant vision).  No worries.  We got it done and had our first gardening experience.  New hobby?  That’s a little ambitious to say at this point.  The whole time we were working I kept expecting a car to stop, see how clueless we were, and come help.  At first, Joe was digging while I snapped pics. 

Joe—“No.  You are gonna put this on the blog.  People say ‘oh I saw you on the blog he he he!’  What do you say about me on the blog.  You make fun of me?”     

What else should I have done?  We only had one shovel.  Then, my turn with shovel.  (now I know it only takes ~3 minutes to get a shovel thumb blister)  

--Mother said you could always tell a lady by her hands.--  Scarlet

Weenie hands.  Need gloves.  Hopefully Gaga plant makes it.  It looks pretty pitiful next to Home Depot plant. 

 Home Depot Plant                                         

Gaga Plant

KITTENS

I have now had kittens for almost 2 months.  I have had 3 big goals in life.  1) Be on permanent staff at Camp Bratton Green-CHECK  2) Live abroad –CHECK.  And once those two things were fulfilled my 3^rd big life goal was to get kittens.  2 kittens--CHECK.  After a tiny, internal debate of whether to get kittens from people giving away kittens or adopt from a shelter I settled on going to a shelter.  Shelter trip was rough.  I’m already worked up and nervous about seeing all the sad, caged faces.  Sarah McGlaughlin might as well have been playing in the background.

Joe and I enter:

Front Desk Lady:  can I help you?

Me:  yes I’d like to adopt 2 kittens

FDL:  oh well let me tell you about Lavender, an adult kitten who is sweet, a little feisty but needs a good home.

Me:  (guilt setting in on my already grief-stricken heart as it listened to all the caged animals I couldn’t take home) –oh.. well.. I wanted kitten kittens. 

FDL:  oh ok.  First room on the right. 

(clearly, it is near the end of the road for Lavender)

Grrrrr.  How dare you, Front Desk Lady.   But from there on out all the “adult kittens” I saw were Lavender.  Joe and I enter first room of cats and I start crying.  How can I pick two?  Especially out of a cage with four.  Especially when Lavender is staring at me from every cage.  Joe did not know what to do with me.  We went to second kitten room and he walked over to this cage with two black and white kittens.  “Emily, what about these?”  I glanced over.  Saw that there were just two, young kittens and said, “yeah. Fine.  Those are fine.  Let’s go.”  I had to wait til the next day for the “adoption counselor” (aka this recent college grad who seemed way in over her head) to do all the paper work.  I wanted to say, “Excuse me?  you want me to wait a day?... Y’all do want to get rid of animals here right?” 

Apparently there is an application process and an application was already in on “Charles.”  But my application won since I wanted them both.  Charles and Dudley were there shelter names.  New names:  Charles Mooey Poppins and Dudley Richard Parker. They go by Moo and Richard Parker.  Moo, cause he looks like a cow and just watch Life of Pi for explanation of Richard Parker.  Do not call him Richard.  Or RP.  It’s Richard Parker.  But you are welcome to say it with an Indian accent. 

So far they are still confined to our bathroom at night.  They are mainly inside cats for now… until their neuter date.  They still just wanna play throughout the night and Moo is very vocal.  He meows if he finds himself alone.  And one of his self-comforting habits is to gently gnaw on my fingers.  So bathroom it is for now. 

Another problem –and this is gross—is Richard Parker’s poo.  One Monday night I was about to leave when I saw Richard Parker going #2 in litter box.  Then I saw the last of his poo still hanging on.  It’s ok.  It’ll fall.  Oh no.  It’s not falling.  And now the kitten is on the move.  Crap.  I grab a paper towel, slam the bathroom door shut, grab cat ..but I know, even as I go to grab the swinging poop, that this is a bad idea.  I only end up smearing most of the poop into his white hiney.  Crap.  I run the tub water.  This is going to get ugly.  I throw a towel in the tub cause I heard cats hate slippery surfaces during bath time.  Wrong.  Cats hate water during bath time.  There’s no other choice.  I can’t let my cat run around with poo on his butt.  I smush his rear into the water.  He starts meowing.  And frantically trying to escape.  I’m swishing and swiping with paper towel.  I gag.  Now Richard Parker is wailing.  Moo is on the other side of the door.  Now Moo is wailing.  For all he knows I am in there trying to kill his brother.  It sounds like I am killing them both. 

So the problem is Richard Parker had eaten (and not digested) my head hair.  And poo was dangling from said head hair.  I thought it was because their food was near my hair drying and brushing station.  I moved hair station.  But this hasn’t fixed the problem.  Then the other night Richard Parker pukes.  Moo starts to sniff the puke.  But Richard Parker is still puking and Moo is still sniffing.  Now there is puke on Moo’s head.  Now Richard Parker has stepped in his own puke.  A hot mess.  He puked two more times that night.  My theory is the puke is related to the hair eating issue.  Now I’m close to confirming the theory as I have seen Richard Parker gobble up two hair/dust bunnies in the last 2 days.  Next effort:  vacuum the whole house every day.  Today we found a little poop smear on living room windowsill.  We also have brown floors.  So if poop is hanging on and falling off in the house… we may never know it.  Until it shows up on our big white club chair.  I have never had this issue with a cat in my life of owning cats.  Besides this minor issue I absolutely love having two kittens.  Really I do.  They play with each other, bathe each other, pee with each other (even though they are getting to big to use litter box at the same time… this will certainly result in a mess soon) and sleep with each other.  The most beautiful kittens ever. 

3^rd life goal fulfilled.  Any suggestions for a 4^th?  And don’t you dare say human babies.  I am maxed out on things I have to care for.   

And now for cute fest.  (I take an embarrassingly amount of self portraits with them)

 

 last trip to the vet.   Gonna need separate carriers for the next visit I think.   

Things got a little crazy one Saturday morning when we slept in. 

  

Signs (and fears) of aging

Sure.  Signs of aging are all around in your 20's.  Outward signs.  Like weddings, babies, and other grown-up things.  Things we celebrate in the "getting old" process.  

At the beginning of June our friends Thomas and Madelyn had their 3rd baby boy.  He is a day old in this picture.  Joe is the designated small baby holder.  But Thomas and Madelyn would hear none of my "I don't hold small babies" declarations and they plopped him in my lap (with the aid of a pillow).

Little does baby Brown know all the excitement that lays ahead as his parents watch him age.  First steps.  First words.  All exciting signs of aging.

Claire celebrated (belatedly) her birthday at my house.  We tried to make it exciting... with a Reese's ice cream cake and candles.  But let's get real... we all know (and by WE I don't mean you people in your early twenties and younger) that Claire's 27 is not as exciting as Brown's first day on earth and his next 21 birthdays.  Why?  Because "getting old is the pits" --as Joe's grandma said.

I'm 29 (and a half).  I feel like the difference between 29 and 26 as far as "aging" is concerned is incredibly drastic.  Or maybe not.  Maybe it's more like 24.  But still.  That's only 5 years.  I guess the downward spiral has to start somewhere.  Why don't people warn you of things like this?  Just a little heads up would be nice.  "Enjoy those eyelashes now Emily... by the time you turn 27 they will be significantly lighter and thinner."  or "Careful with those eyebrow raises.  Those lines in your forehead will stick one day."  (If the next time you see me you look at the lines on my forehead ... I'll punch you.)

I mean, I knew it'd happen one day.  I'm not that dumb.  I just wasn't aware that it starts happening while you're still in your 20's.  When I first moved to FL (at the wee age of 22-23) people thought I was younger (18 .... one man even said 15!)  I was appalled he thought 15!  But at some point the switch flipped.  I became flattered when people thought I was younger than 27, 28, 29 or when someone ID'd me when buying alcohol.  Just like that.  Around 25, 26... something changed.  My main point is that someone needs to tell us these things!  Warn us when that switch is going to flip.  

It's funny.  We start off by celebrating these signs of aging.  Loose tooth?  Oh yay for you.  Bring on the cash-carrying fairy.  Look at that new ADULT tooth!  Send a note home from school.  Take a big toothy picture.  How about we have a "Wrinkle Warlock" --grandpa of Tooth Fairy -- and he could put things like wrinkle cream coupons under our pillows.    

Even puberty -- although it's dreaded for the awkward reasons --is still somewhat of an exciting aging moment.  We counted my brother's armpit hairs for a while as they sprouted up.  

I can still remember the day I FINALLY got to shave my legs... end of 5th grade (even though I had sneaked (I snuck?) a few random shavings before that).  No one wants to commemorate the day they first had to shave or bleach their chin hairs?  No, really it should be we celebrate the sprouting of those hairs and NEVER eliminate them.  Girls would dream of the day when they look like grandma.  They will look in the mirror and imagine where their stray hairs will grow and what their wrinkle pattern will look like.  

My most recent sign of aging (and the one I'm most comfortable sharing with you) has been my vision.  I noticed at the end of school (during the awful student presentations) that things were a little blurry from the back of the class.  Sure enough, the doctor says I'm on the brink of near-sighted-ness.  (Means I can't see things far away -- I was always confused about the "near-sighted/far-sighted" thing until I became labeled as one).  

Here's me after my first ever eye appointment.  Who knew they use more technology than just the chart on the wall with the giant E?  

Trying on frames... none seem to be promising in style (or price).

I quickly realized that I'll be taking my prescription to Wal-Mart for the cheaper frames.  The only real reason I might want to get them soon is night driving.... so that every dark blur on the road isn't interpreted as a suicidal animal I need to risk my life dodging.    

So all the superficial things suck (they really are "the pits"... grandma is sooo right).  Maybe other people don't think of them as much.  I'm gonna blame you, Mom, for this.  She's always said things like "don't sleep on your stomach ... you'll get wrinkles from your face being smooshed into the bed."  So every time I laid on my stomach I had this inner dialogue -- "watch out you'll get wrinkles"... "I don't care I'm comfortable I want to go to sleep."  .... "Ok well it's your face."   .... "Uhhh fine" and roll over.

And another thing... why the hell do we say things like "He's aging well."???  What does that even mean?  Basically it means you're old (or getting there) but don't look like it.  And if you're not aging well... ahh well, shame on you.  Pity on you.  Everything else in life is a competition and now aging, a process we all do at the same rate... 365 days a year, can now be done better or worse.  Most races you win by being the quickest, smartest... but the way to win the aging contest is to do it the slowest.  I hate it.

The non-superficial things suck even more.  You know, diseases and shit. 

On a weekly basis (at least.  Probably more.) I have some minor anxiety about getting old.  Which one of my grandmothers' ailments will afflict me?  Breast cancer?  Alzheimer's?  Multiple Sclerosis?  

What if I die first and leave Joe with 10 or more years left to live?  or the opposite? 

Visits to see grandparents (like this past weekend) mainly make these fears worse, and I hate for that to be the result of going to see a loved one.  But it is what it is. 

These fears make it really difficult to live in the moment-- which is all you really can do, right?  Enjoy the now cause you can't control these things.  

Well,  I say that but I did register on Luminosity.com --a brain website that gives you daily brain games to play and train your brain with.  A bunch of silliness really, but still.  Why not?  Fear is a strong motivator.   

So one night, when I couldn't fall asleep and these fears popped into my brain, I thought that I would blog about them.  Put them out there.  Maybe that would help them go away... or at least lessen.  SURELY I'm not the only one that thinks of these things at 29?  Surely I will not spend the rest of my aging life agonizing about every wrinkle or age spot?  

I'm planning to get kittens at the end of the summer.  Maybe that will occupy my worries instead of these others that have plagued me for the last 2 or 3 years.   But for those of you in your 30's... come on... spill it.  What's next?