A Pictorial Ode to George

George is still at the vet.  We all went to see him today.  He's incredibly thin.  He's now down to 12 pounds.  For him that's skin and bone, practically.  It was surreal to pick him up and not have to heft him at all.  He was very lethargic from the meds and the like he received today.  His prognosis is not looking good.  We're probably going to give him another day or so to see if the new meds work or not, and if not, he's not coming home.  He will be very missed.  He's our first pet.

We got him in February of 2002 from the Alexandria Animal Shelter.  He was by far the most awesome cat there!  The worker was taking us around the cat room and showing us the different cats.  We got to George and she said, "And this little fella's name is George.  We can't put a tag up for him because he keeps ripping it down."

All we saw was an orange paw sticking out of the cage.  The worker left us to see if we could make a decision.  The first cat I grabbed out of a cage was George.  He snuggled right up in my arms.  He was very vibrant and ALIVE.  I handed him to Matt, and he snuggled into his arms too and then licked Matt's nose!  We knew he was the cat for us.  I still took one other cat out of its cage and held it, and it just sat in my arms like dead weight.  George was definitely the right choice.  We took him home that very night.  A quick stop by Wal-Mart to get the needed items for owning a cat, and we were on our way.  He is/was many things to us:

Our forever curious kitty, always investigating

Our playful kitty, playing with whatever he could find.  Sometimes he would try to hide toys under his belly and then look around like he didn't know where it went. 

Our confused kitty.  Sometimes he acted more like a dog than a cat.

Our sharing kitty.  He liked to share Dad's lap with the babies (Kirstin here).

Our dirty kitty.  Any time he could get outside in the dirt, he would do this.  He would come in gray and wouldn't turn orange for a while.

Our clean kitty.  Sometimes he needed help.  I haven't done this in a long time.

Our annoyed kitty.  Especially when I wouldn't let him rest or would purposely pet his belly.  I came away with many scratches from trying that too often.

Our personable kitty.  He generally loved being around visitors and the like.

Our catable? cat.  Only with Felix though.  Any other cats and he would fight.  He and Felix had many fights at first, but then became good friends with only an occasional skirmish.  Usually in the middle of the night.  On our bed.

Our long tailed cat.  He was forever getting in the way with his tail.

And sometimes he didn't seem to understand his tail was part of him.  He would catch it to clean it.

Our tired kitty.  He looks so ferocious when he yawns!

Our resting kitten.  And let me say, he was always a good foot warmer in the night.

Our patient kitty, especially with our girls.

Our supportive kitty.  He liked to help.  Or get some love.  Whichever.

A member of our family.  He would often try to get in on the photo shoots.

And so we say good bye to a wonderful orange cat.  George, Georgous Gorge, Long Tail Stinky Butt, Little Demon, you'll be missed greatly.  Thank you for all your wonderfulness over the years.  Love ya, buddy.

One of THOSE days

I'm having one of THOSE days today.  A four year old that won't listen or do anything but torment her sister, a baby that's into everything and keeps getting stuck behind the rocking chair, no matter what I put there to block her way, and a sick cat that just hides under our bed and pukes for us.  Great. 

Yet, during the chorus of:
Don't do that!
Emily, NO!
Kirstin, stop!
What fell now?!
No, you cannot get that out right now!

All I can think about it my play.  I'm wondering if I need a cohesive plot or if I can get by with a bunch of somewhat unrelated scenes.  My plan for now is to just write the unrelated scenes and see how it reads.  If it seems too fragmented I'll put in a plot line for filler.  That seems to be the backward way to write a play, but it's working for me.

I've made my prerequisite phone calls for the day.  I called the vet to see if we could do something about George the Cat's medication.  We can't get him to take it.  The one time we got a pill down his throat he vomited it up right away.  So the vet is changing it to a liquid of something else.  That should go easier for us.  I also called the clinic to get Kirstin in for her 4 year check-up.  That's on Wednesday.  I'm pretty certain she has shots coming.  I really hope her daddy can be there because she's going to scream.  And I called in a refill for my prescrip so I can sleep again at night.  My mind's been going too fast and I can't slow it down.  Too many minutes passed by on my clock last night with my knowledge. 

But on the better side, I'm coming out of my winter funk finally.  There are times I swear I have part of me that hibernates or something.  I think that part came back for the warmer weather now.  I'm feeling more upbeat in general.  I actually WANT to be around people again.  I don't have to force myself as much.  And I have a good excuse to have friends over.  Angie just got back from visiting her family in Texas for two weeks.  I missed her greatly during that time.  Catch up time is always a good excuse!

So here's to the rest of the day, and making it be brighter.  I'm thinking naps for the three of us here.  Soft snores from my girls will be a wonderful sound.

I did it!

Very excited.  I did it.  I took the plunge, I walked the wire, I ate the spicy pepper?  How else can I phrase that? 

I joined Script Frenzy.  I played with the idea for weeks now, ever since Mary mentioned it to me.  I just signed up.  I know I will get nowhere near 100 pages.  I just want to write my one little script.  Instead of earlier ideas, I've found something else.  A fun look at communication.  The idea came to me as I watched teens texting, tweeting, facebooking, etc.  And from my own conversations with the dear supportive husband. 

I have this tendency to not voice all my thoughts when I talk to him.  I have ideas and the like, and I'll start in the middle of the conversation.  Then I have to backtrack after saying, "Oh, you weren't there for that part of the conversation, were you?"

And of course he wasn't.  It was all in my head. 

A good example:
I'll be thinking about getting something for Kirstin for her birthday, and I'll start the conversation with Matt like this:

Me: You know, I don't know if that would be a good idea for Kirstin.
Matt: Umm...What?
Me: Well, the thing I was thinking earlier.
Matt:  Okay...
Me: Oh, you weren't there for that part of the conversation, were you?

That type of conversation happens often.  Maybe it's from being with the kids so much, I don't know.  We laugh every time it happens though.  Then I have to go back and fill him in on what he missed.  If he could just read minds, life would be easier. 

But so excited, and so much to do!  Oh boy...I can do this, I can do this, I can do this....

Birthdays and Cold Feet

This was taken in May of this last year.  It doesn't reflect how grown up she is now, but does show how pixie-like she is.  My baby is four today!  She's lost a lot of her pudginess and is growing up so fast!  Sometimes I wish life just had a pause button.  It's bad enough that I have to get older, but my kids have to get older too?

Of course, Kirstin finds turning a year older great fun.  And why wouldn't she?  This year we had a party planned for her, but it got postponed due to weather.  Instead Grandpa and Grandma stayed the night at our house and she got her "big gift" from us: a new to her wooden train set, complete with table and storage drawers.  We went against our own advice and got something big, once again.  And because Grandpa and Grandma stayed with us, she got to help pump up their air mattress, and how fun is that!?

And on top of all of that, the next morning we went to church, and Grandpa and Grandma went with us.  After church, instead of Sunday School, she got to have her birthday party with all of her friends and her other set of grandparents too!  Yay!  She got to play games and eat cake and ice cream right after church.

And now she's officially four.  As of six o'clock this morning.  I feel a little old when she says, "And next year I'll be five and can ride the school bus!"  It's been a wonderful four years, and cheers for another wonderful year to come!

Now, on the serious side...

I HATE COLD FEET AT NIGHT!  And no, I'm not talking about Matt's.  I'm talking about my own.  Lately my feet have had their own thermostat or something.  The heat turns off as soon as they hit the sheets.  And those toes get downright icy.  I have an absolutely wonderful husband who allows me to put them on his warm legs and indeed, he'll put his legs over them to help warm them up.  And that's great.  It works, somewhat.  But, then inevitably I'll have to move back to my own side of the bed and once again they get icy.  I even put them under my own legs in an attempt to warm them up.  Nothing seems to work.  Not even a cat sleeping on them works.  Socks don't work either.  I just have to tough it through until they warm up.  Because of course I can't sleep until they do get warm.  I even go through a nightly ritual of "mind over matter" and imagine the heat from the rest of my body flowing down to my feet.  And they still remain rather frigid.  Ugh.

And yet, once I do get to sleep, I wake up and toss the covers off because I'm too warm.  Is there no happy medium?

I will achieve the just right temperature sometime.  I just don't know when.  And until then...TV turned low, captions on, and mixed attempts to regulate...It's all I can do.

Hulabaloo

You know how you do some things just by a general routine?  Like some people automatically put their bag or purse on the passenger’s seat in the car or you have a certain order of getting cleaned up in the shower or something?  I have a certain order for getting the girls in and out of the car when I’m the only adult with them.  If anything screws up that order, chaos ensues.

We’ve had an interesting morning around here.  I’m just glad that we’re home again and I have a little more control over the events of the day.

It all started just fine with a trip to the doctor for Emily for her Well-Baby checkup.  She’s doing great, growing and big and healthy aside from her cold.  And it was her cold that got us into trouble later. 

As we left the clinic, we saw our friends’ vehicle parked next to ours.  Jill is pregnant and due in early March, so this wasn’t very surprising.  We just took note of it and got into our car and left.  I dropped off Matt at his office, and away went the girls and me for Willie’s Super Valu, Home of the People Lovers!  

I promised Kirstin something special for breakfast if she just wouldn’t complain too much about being hungry while at the doctor’s office.  The great mother I am, I was only able to get Emily fed this morning before we left for the appointment.

We turned into the Willie’s parking lot and found a space.  As I turned the key in the ignition, I looked in the rearview mirror to see how Emily was doing.  

She had snot running out of her nose and into her mouth.  It was gross!  So I figured I’d just clean her up a little before heading into the store.  I got out of the car, opened Kirstin’s door, got her unbuckled so she could get out, told her stay right next to the car, and headed over to the other side for Emily.   Not thinking, I did as I always do when I get her out.  I tossed the keys next to the car seat.  Then I reached over her and grabbed a tissue and got her cleaned up.  I got her unbuckled and out of the car and shut the door.  By now you can see where this is going.  

I walked over to Kirstin, shut her door and did my accustomed gesture: I checked my pockets for my keys. 

There was no misshapen bulge where they keys usually sit in the pocket.  

I checked again.  Nope, still not feeling anything.  Hmm…

One thing to understand about my car: it gives you seven seconds after closing the door until it actually locks.  Knowing this, I shot my arm out to Kirstin’s door again.

And it locked just as I pulled up on the handle.  

CRUD! (My real words were a little different, but you get the picture.)

Well, I did some fast thinking as I walked into the store with the girls.  Matt has an extra key for my car on his key ring.   I would just see if I could find someone with whom to leave the girls for a minute and go back out to the car and make sure the keys were in it.  We grabbed a cart; I put Emily in the child seat, and walked into the store.  And there was Julie, the girls’ adopted Grandmother and checker extraordinaire.  She had no problem taking a second to watch them while I ran out.  And sure enough, there they were, sitting next to the car seat.  Because of the added movement of cleaning up Emily with the tissue, my routine was thrown off and they stayed there.  

Now I knew for a fact I had to call Matt and see if he could come down with the extra key.  So, I asked Julie to use the phone, and called him.   Of course, more bad luck.  I just got his voicemail.  I didn’t know if he was in a meeting or not.  I didn’t know how long we would be stuck at the store.  I figured I could at least buy some breakfast and get Kirstin fed, so we started heading to the bakery section for some doughnuts. I thought we could sit in the seating area while we waited and have some breakfast.  As we headed that way,  I looked through the door, and who should be coming in but Jill and Erik and their youngest, soon to be middle child, Owen.  Yay!

They came in and we made small talk about how cold it is and all that, and I told them my predicament.  We did some shopping, and then Jill took my girls with her while Erik and I went in search of Matt.  Low and behold, he was already on his way, and we met him on the road.  So, we turned around and went back to Willie’s.  Matt unlocked my car, all three of us went in to the store, we found Jill, chatted for a few minutes longer, and then left.  

What I thought would take maybe ten minutes in the store turned into more than a half hour debacle.  All because Emily has a cold. 

Creative Inspiration

Matt and I spent the day in Montevideo on Saturday.  It was our annual pilgrimage there for the sub-section one-act play contest.  We go to support the Renville kids and just generally have a good time.  This year there were six plays produced.  And even though Renville didn't go on, they did a wonderful job.  Their play, "Loonies and Snatchers," had the most energy and was incredibly hilarious.  The co-directors, whom we know through the school channels, did a wonderful job with these young upstart actors.  Most of the kids in the play were found in seventh grade, three years ago.  Now Diane, one of the directors, would like to produce a play that would highlight two of their boys.  She mentioned that as kind of a one-off comment, as though it just won't be able to happen...And that started my mind going.

On the way back to Matt's folks' place, I thought, why can't it happen?  And now an idea is forming.  Can I write a play that would be of competition quality?  I don't know, but I'm sure going to find out.  First though, I have some research to do.  I'm going to pull from Greek/Roman mythology for this one, and have maybe up to three principal characters, and then any number can be in the chorus, which will provide other characters and scenery as needed.  One-act is really a minimalist type of production.  I'm excited to see if this will turn out.  And if it does, I'll present it to Diane in September.  That gives me plenty of time to fine tune the script.

I have a feeling the script is going to be the easy part.  The directors will have the tough part of producing it.  The actors will have the tough part of becoming the characters.

Oh how fun this is going to be!

Women will understand

“Holy crap!  I have boobs!”

That was the first thing that came out of my mouth as I tried on one of my new bras tonight. 

I’ve been feeling somewhat down that none of my bras fit anymore.  I felt like everything was sagging and getting smaller; a byproduct of nursing, I guess.  When I was nursing Emily (and Kirstin when she was that little) I loved the way I looked.  My waistline was small, and my breasts were full and round.  I just felt better about my appearance in general.  Some of that wonderful appearance stayed with me after Kirstin was weaned, but now that Emily is weaned, it all went away.  It’s like I’ve been carrying around two saggy half-filled balloons or something.  And they are supported by an expanded waistline.  I haven’t gained weight at all; I just have a tummy that shows my two pregnancies.  So, with the smaller breasts and larger tummy, I needed some retail therapy.

I have no need for nursing bras anymore and I’ve been getting by with one “good” bra and several sports bras for the past three or four months.  In general, I hate shopping for clothes, bras especially.  I can’t find anything that supports the “girls” they way I like.  But then again, I tend to shop at Wal-Mart for underclothing.  I found out tonight a few dollars makes a big difference when shopping for bras.  We went to the mall and shopped at Penney’s for new church shoes for me and new bras.  Matt took the kids and walked around whilst I made my decision.  There was a good buy one get one half off deal going on, so I was pretty excited.  I mean, REALLY excited.  I was finally going to get some support that didn’t just flatten things out and make my waistline really show up!  Yay! 

And I went into this shopping trip prepared.  Matt measured me for the correct size.   The first few that I found and liked only came in larger sizes…Sizes I used to fit, but no longer.  It was turning more difficult than I thought.  I moved to a different rack (hee hee) and found all super small sizes for those women who need a little bit of support, or young ladies who are just starting to bloom can start there and move up later on.  Still nothing in my size.  Then I turned one last time, about to give up, and there they were.  The perfect bras!  Yay!  I got one for just general everyday go about town stuff, and one I got “to make me feel pretty.” 

It’s amazing what some technology can do to cleavage.  I mean, the everyday bra looks good, feels good, and gives all the support I could wish for, while still streamlining the shape.  Then there’s the “pretty” bra.  A little lace and some added features.  It was that bra that caused me to rediscover my boobs.  I mean…Wow.  I love retail therapy! 

Incidentally, my need for shoes came from the pregnancies as well.  My feet just didn’t fit into what I lovingly call my hooker boots anymore.  I love my tall boots that zip up on the side, but cramming my feet into them these past few weeks for church has caused some problems.  My feet started to cramp up as I was walking, my knees started to give trouble again, and it was just an all around unpleasant experience.  So, new shoes were on my list.  I found some, and they are nice, don’t get me wrong, but they’re not my hooker boots.  Oh well, at least now Kirstin won’t hear the term “hooker boots” again.  I won’t have to worry about her using that around the wrong people. 

Oh, and about the job front: I have heard nothing and tomorrow is technically the start date.  I’m going to keep looking for something, though.  I have to keep looking.  My sanity won’t let me stay where I’m at for much longer.  Too much chaos is involved right now.

But something good has come from the chaos.  Matt and I have learned (or reiterated) that bras are not the only support for us.  We have many friends who have helped us through and it’s good to not feel alone when times get tough.