Monday, September 15, 2008

Planets aligning in perfect pet harmony

Something has happened in the cosmos.

Something strange. Something... a harbringer, a sign, a message from the Creator of the Universe itself...

and we'd all be fools to ignore it.

My cat, the vicious old fart, and my dog, the crazy spastic gal, are co-existing on the same floor as I am...

This can only mean a few things...

a) The earth has tilted on it's axis slightly, throwing off my cat's inner hate beacon.

b) the third horseman from the four horseman of the apocylypse is about to arrive, shortly followed by the other three (but don't panic, they have to make it through customs first)

c) the lion has laid down with the lamb, which can only mean d will occur.

d) a comet is going to fly really close to our planet and set us into an early ice age.

Yes, it's that big.

Dear children,

I am asking, begging, no, pleading with you...

Can you please wake up in the mornings? Is it so hard?

Why must I grab the foot that is hanging over the loft bed and shake, pull and prod it just to get a response? You must get up preferably at 6, at least by 6:30, and go to school at 7 every morning five days out of the week. You would think that you'd get up naturally, or with a little less prodding.

And Bear, why, why must I cajole you out of bed? Why do you need to come crawl into our bed in the morning before you will even entertain the idea of waking up. I'm not even sure you open your eyes on the way to our room. Why must I spend so much time convincing you getting out of bed is a good idea?

Now, Turbo, you are my exception. And I hate to mention you, because you are like the sun. You rise every morning, bright eyed and cheery, ready for anything... school, gymnastics, the hordes of Attila the Hun, anything... and Ipromise you I am not complaining or whining one bit. But I just ask one small concession. Before you inflict your cheery, bright-eyed gonna go tackle the day gleefully attitude on me, could you, you know, let me have some coffee first?

Sunday, September 14, 2008

6-day old pajamas

I am tempted not to post this, even though we try to write honestly about the ups and downs we encounter as we try to be good moms. Here goes. See those brown stripy jammies my baby is wearing two posts down as he happily chews on the rubbery lid of that medicine dropper? I haven't done laundry this week AND I changed him out of those tonight. TONIGHT.

So my mind is racing. Did he wear those jammies for 6 days in a row? Did he???

*think*
*think*

*LIGHTBULB ON* I remember! I for sure had him in a stripey shirt and overalls on Friday. Thank goodness. 3 days in same clothes IS acceptable, if not desirable. 6 days and my brain starts to melt.

I was gone all day yesterday and my husband had the kids on his own. Maybe he picked the jammies up out of the hamper (I mean off the floor, who am I kidding) and decided they would be fine. Maybe I even did it last night, I was very exhausted.

This is in direct contrast to his sister that changes her clothes at least 3 times/day.