No. Touch. Kitty.

On the phone with my mom today, she said she wished she had a recording of the conversation so she could play it for Harper when she is ten.  Unfortunately, we have no phone tap.  I guess we can perform a reenactment using this script:

 

Mom:  Hello.

Me:  Hi.

Mom:  What is going on?  You sound like you are either laughing or crying.

Me:  Both.  I think I gave Harper a black eye.

Mom:  Don’t you hate that!  It is amazing they survive what you put them through.  When I think of what I did to your oldest brother, Will. 

Me:  It is not like I dropped her.  Harper, no.  I was carrying her into the living room.  She leaned out at the wrong time, I didn’t stop fast enough, and her head hit the door frame.  No touch kitty.

Mom:  Is she o.k.?

Me:  She is fine.  She barley cried.  Kitty does not like that.  But it is her first Christmas, and, oh, the pictures.

Mom:  Makeup.

Me:  Harper, no.  She looks like Rocky.  Harper.  No.

Mom:  Well I guess you can’t put a steak on a baby’s eye.

Me:  Spanky does not like that.  No. Touch.  Kitty.

Mom:  And, you pobably don’t have a steak.  (See as how you don’t eat meat.)  What about frozen peas?

Me:  We moved all our food to the basement freezer to make room Harper No for the cookies.  HarperNo.  HarperNo.  We have teething toys, but she won’t hold still.  Notouchkitty Notouchkitty.

Mom:  You sound like you are busy.

Me:  RUN SKANKY, RUN!

Mom:  I would just go with the make up.

Me:  O.k.  Love you.

Mom.  Love you, too.  Bye.

 

(Sorry for the lack of a picture.  I’ll get my act together soon.)

Kippy Christmas

Skylar’s office holiday party was at Dave and Busters this year.  I have not played arcade games since I was a kid, and can I just say, I have gotten way better.  With a few ticket donations from our friends, we were able to win this classy Care Bear for Harper.  Her Kippy Christmas could not have been better.

I ended up making a bone for Dignon out of drop cloth material.  I like the color.  It is sturdy and rugged, but minimal.  It is also very poorly made, in a somewhat charming way.  He loves it.

The cats’ felt catnip mice are beyond adorable.  However, felt is not an ideal material for cat toys, as it is already somewhat disintegrating with their drool and teethmarks.  

Merry Kippy Christmas from out kitties and puppy to yours!

Crying is Noisy

A couple of weeks ago Harper became a champion sleeper, 2 fabulous naps, at least 11 hours a night, we can put her down drowsy but awake.  I’m bragging here.  I know, I hate me, too.

Now, the cats have figured out how to open the door to her room.  They throw their bodies against it tossing the door open, walk right in, and wake her up.  WTF!  Why?  Spanky (formerly known as Skanky) used to go in, and sleep on the day bed in Harper’s room.  These last couple of mornings, Spanky opens the door, walks in, chiming her kitty bell, and walks out.  She is probably forced to leave by the volume of Harper’s shrill cries.

The thing is, I’m up to see all of it happen, because I forgot how to sleep though the night.  I still get up at 4:00 a.m.  I started feeding the animals instead of the baby, to give it a sense of purpose.

 

(I owe you pictures, and they are coming.  We have a battery charger!  Yea!  And this weekend, my mom is in town for Kippy Christmas.  So, there should be some film worthy stuff going on.)

The Mom You Thought You’d Be

Have you ever noticed people without children are very quick to judge parents and talk about how to properly raise kids?  I was like that.  Now that I have been a mom for almost nine months, I have come to the realization that I’m not the mom I thought I’d be.  

In some ways I am.  I’ve become my mother, right down to muttering in inappropriate places, like the diaper isle and around small children, “Damn it all to hell.” & “Hell, fire and damnation.”  & “Jesus age Christ.”  I have instituted a ‘don’t bother mommy for a while, even if you don’t sleep’ daily nap.

I thought I would be a cool mom, and I am not in the following ways:  

• I thought I would take Harper to art openings.  (Openings are at bedtime, 7:00, and bedtime is sacred.)
• I thought I would be flexible about bedtime, and not say stuff like, ‘Bedtime is sacred.’
• I thought I would have time to work on my art & craft stuff.  (That is just funny; extra time!)
• I thought I would do baby sign language.
• I thought I would cloth diaper.  (There is still time for this one…)
• I thought I would get mani-pedis.   
• I did not think I would see her eating the cat’s food, and think, ‘Oh, well.  That can wait.  She is happy, not choking, and apparently, despite that I share my Starbucks scones with her, she likes savory food.’
• I did not think I would let her watch T.V. till she was 2 years old, but I have decided MSNBC does not count.
• I thought I would lose all the baby weight within 9 months. (I still have 5 lbs., but I think it is non-smoking weight.)

I’m sure this list will evolve as she grows up, as I become the mom I’m becoming.  How are you not the mom, or dad, you thought you would be?

GPS for Cats

We have decided to do homemade presents for Kippy Christmas this year.

 What is Kippy Christmas?  Why, it is Christmas for kitties and puppies.  It is a big deal in our house.  It even has it’s own song.

I’ve been looking forward to sewing some plush toys for the pets that coordinate with our decor and that are machine washable.  (Not exactly what they would ask for if the could talk, or write letters to Santa, but they can’t, so there.)  That was until I saw a commercial for a portable personal GPS tracker!  If Trixie had one, I could see where she goes all day.  I could track her down and surprise her!  Dear reader, do you know, or know any one who would know, how to craft your own portable personal GPS tracker for a small cat?  What I lack in resources and know-how I make up for in motivation.

A Bad Day in Spanky and Baby’s Relationship

This is Harper’s alien baby doll.  It is really just a baby dressed up like an alien, not a baby alien…  At least not to my knowledge.

In other news, Spanky (our cat who was named Skanky before we had a baby) swatted Harper for the first time today.  She has been grabbing fist fulls of Spanky’s hair for a while now, despite my attempts to encourage her to gently pet the kitty.  I must say, she has been better about not pulling on the fur.  She moved on to the bell on Spanky’s collar.  She grabs it with such enthusiastic vigor and shakes it like the cat’s neck is her rattle.  

Spanky had enough.  She is 12 years old and 16 pounds.  She eats.  She naps.  And she is no body’s rattle.  She swatted the baby in the face.

I heard Harper cry from the kitchen, and I came running, a day late and a dollar short.  I had never heard her cry like that.  I don’t think she was crying as much from the minor scratch as she was from the rejection.  She really loves the animals.  It was pretty sad stuff.

I thought maybe this would not be as bleak as it seems.  Maybe Harper would learn to give the cat some space.  I was wrong.  The saga continues; Harper goes for Spanky’s collar, Spanky is annoyed, but not wanting to move, the tension builds…  Ugh.