22 push-ups a day for 22 days. For PTSD awareness. For more info see Day 1
Getting tired of push-ups yet? It would seem the cat is.
1) My cat is judging my parenting skills
Kiddo is getting pretty good at ‘gently’ petting that cats. Ok it’s more of a whack, but he is learning that they don’t like the fur grabbing thing. Unfortunately, sometimes that grabby impulse is pretty strong:
After the inevitable hiss, it isn’t the baby who gets the stink eye. It’s me. I hear her thoughts bore into my brain: Control your offspring, human.
2) Hide the chocolate
There was a time when the baby didn’t recognize those dark-brown squares as food items. He has now figured out that if I’m eating it, he can too. And wants to. Since the chocolate I was eating was 70% cocoa, I assumed it would be too bitter for his taste. I’d give him a piece, he’d hate it. I would continue to munch chocolate without tiny hands trying to nab it.
I handed over a crumb. He put it in his mouth. A moment of contempation…
Chocolate will now be consumed in secret.
3) Creepy crawly
You’ve probably heard this one before. It started in the shower. Baby asleep, time to myself, all is right with the world. I open my eyes, and there it is. A big, wiggly spider drifting down to the top of the shower curtain.
Freeze. Consider screaming for husband to come to the rescue. No. It’s just a spider. Spiders are good, they eat mosquitoes. Keep showering, everything is fine. Keep showering. Sneak a peek at spider.
Gasp. Where did it go?
There! Spindly, translucent-orange legs appear over the top of the curtain bar… crawling my way, barely hanging on to the condensation-covered bar.
Unhook removable shower head, edge to other side of shower.
I could spray it, maybe wash it down the drain…
Hmm, too many folds in the curtain for it to fall into and vanish, still wiggling.
Quick rinse. Exit shower.
Options: A) Never use shower again. There’s always sponge baths, and we might be moving soon anyway. B) Husband is still within screaming distance.
Option C it is:
Unnecessarily large wad of toilet paper,
Insects don’t really bother me that much when I’m (and they are) outdoors. There’s just something about sharing the shower with crawly creatures that isn’t cool with me.
For PTSD awareness. For more info see Day 1
You’ll notice I had moral support from both cats today. Probably because it’s feeding time.
I totally never thought that a) I would ever actually show my face on my blog, and b) that if I did show my face it would be beat red while I try to grunt out push-ups (trying not to actually grunt too loudly on camera, of course).
Oh well. Nothing ever turns out the way you expect it will.
Removing ALL the pots from the cupboard;
Twanging the doorstop—you know, the wobbly spring kind;
“Look, Mommy! I got a handful of cat fur”—I’m amazed the cats still stay in the room. I can’t decided if they’re patient, dumb, or just too lazy and stubborn to give up a comfy spot, no matter what;
Blowing bubbles in the tub—thought I’d have to teach him this one, but apparently it comes naturally;
Pooping in the tub—we almost made it a full year without this happening. Tonight our number was up;
Putting objects in parents’ shoes. Shawn Writes Stuff has mentioned this phenomenon. It would seem it’s not unique to his children:
At least, he seems to have moved on from trying to eat my shoes.
There once were two kitties,
They lived in a house,
The house came with two humans to do their bidding,
The humans fed them, cleaned up after them, gave them attention according to their whims (the kitties’ whims, not the humans’. But you figured that).
All was right in the universe…
…until one day a third human appeared.
A tiny human,
A tiny, grabby, attention gobbling human,
The universe would never be the same.
Apple-oatmeal mash prepared, lower baby into highchair.
Is that…? Yeah, I know that smell. Sigh. Pick baby up.
See box of Coors walk by. Wait, that can’t be right.
Look again. Oh, it’s the cat–with the Coors box on his head. From the flailing I’d guess he’s not thrilled with the situation.
Put baby down.
Rescue cat. Don’t look at me like that, I’m not the one who put the box on your head.
Pick baby up. Head to change table.
The day is off to a good start.