Tuesday, March 17, 2015
Friday, February 13, 2015
1There is a time for everything,
and a season for every activity under the heavens:
2a time to be born and a time to die,
a time to plant and a time to uproot,
3a time to kill and a time to heal,
a time to tear down and a time to build,
4a time to weep and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn and a time to dance,
5a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing,
6a time to search and a time to give up,
a time to keep and a time to throw away,
7a time to tear and a time to mend,
a time to be silent and a time to speak,
8a time to love and a time to hate,
a time for war and a time for peace.
Saturday, February 7, 2015
Seriously, you have no idea how much I loved this cat. Which is why I have to share this story with you. A segment I like to call
Cats on a Plane.
Before I go any further though, let me just say that something happens to young people. Usually the 25 and under crowd. It's what makes you say "God bless her" or "kids these days" and it is called making questionable decisions.
Ken is part of this story, but we were still early on enough in our relationship for him to fear telling me "no"... so I will take full responsibility for Cats on a Plane.
Living in New York City was the most exciting time of my life. The only family Ken and I had there in our tiny living quarters were two kittens that we had adopted from North Shore Animal League: Genevieve and Nessie.
|Baby Kitties, 8 Weeks Old|
Most people in the airport thought we were awesome. Children, mostly, I guess. "Look at the cute little kitties!" "Aww they have kitties!"
But you know what happens when you get on a plane with two carry-on cats?
Somehow, not everyone is super appreciative. The following actually happened:
Woman: Those people have cats with them.
Flight Attendant: Yes. Yes they do.
Woman: They need to get off this plane. I am allergic to cats.
Flight Attendant: I am sorry to hear that ma'am. They have paid for their cats to be on this plane.
Woman: No seriously. I am deathly allergic to cats. They need to get off this plane.
Flight Attendant: Ma'am, just like you these cats have tickets to be on this plane. If you are allergic then you need to get off of this plane.
(It turns out that she wasn't that allergic after all, and decided to be quiet at this point. I never heard one sneeze or sniffle out of her.)
All was going swimmingly until we got into the air. Do you know what cats do at 20,000 feet?
Please stop reading right now and head over to YouTube to search for "whale sounds."
At 20,000 feet, cats croon a sad, sad lullaby. They moan deeply from the belly, in a sound that is like "aaaahhhhh---oooooooooh---waaaaahhhhh." It can only be described as whale sounds.
Somehow, most of the people around us did not know that we had cats with us. So when the cats started crooning, there was a lot of,"What is that strange noise?" I think it was at this point that we realized that maaaaaybe cats on a plane was not the most normal thing in the world.
We obviously had no choice but to pretend that we also had no idea where the weird whale calls were coming from.
And somehow we all made it. Not only to Michigan but back home to New York. It was however, the end of an era. The cats never were to fly again. (And honestly, I'm a little surprised that we don't have some sort of red flags associated with our IDs when we're going through security.)
This is just one of the memories I have of my dear little Genevieve. And what a freaking awesome way to remember her. How many cats can say they have had adventures like this? Not many, I'm sure.
And the next time so see someone young and naive, cut them some slack. We've all been there. Cheers!
* I feel comfortable saying that there were several factors that lead to this lapse in judgment on my behalf. Being young and in love is the first and obvious, but the rest can be attributed to living in the West Village of Manhattan, where many strange things were witnessed on a regular basis.**
**For example, a man walking around with a cat riding on his head atop his baseball hat. I saw this SEVERAL times. A man wearing leather underpants and being walked on a leash by another man. Children on leashes and dogs in strollers.
Wednesday, January 28, 2015
Anyways. One night he brought it up. "I could probably build you a table."
The not so romantic follow up was, "If it turns out like crap we can always use it as a picnic table."
I was skeptical at first. "Yah... OK honey." I'm not sure if that made Ken even more determined or not, but darn it... he said he was going to build me a table and he did!!
Over the course of the next few weeks, Ken spent an endless amount of time on the Ana White website. Trips were made to Home Depot for tools and wood. Research was done on finish. And over the next few months, my husband built me the farmhouse table of my dreams. Literally. I love it. And every time I look at it I think of all the time and love that he put into building it for me. It is perfect. It is better than any purchase we could have made, and I will appreciate it more because it came from his own two hands.
Romantic. The fact that Ken put many (frustrating) hours into measuring, leveling, sanding, patching, and staining into making something that I so longed for just lights up my heart. He learned a new trade, he literally built on our relationship.
I love my table. And Ken, I love you!!!
PS... Many people have asked if Ken will build their next table. He might be open to it, but you can't have this one at any cost. Literally. He built it inside the dining room. I don't think it will fit through the doors.
PPS... Did I mention I finally have somewhere to fold the laundry???
Dedicated to Ken. May our table bring great gatherings over the next many years, full of love, life, and laughter.
Monday, January 12, 2015
Usually, our cereal purchasing follows two criteria.
- It's available in the Costco cereal aisle.
- It's something either Cheerios or Kashi branded.
This part actually really surprised me. I'm sorry if it's hard to see very well. Basically, the original Cinnamon Toast Crunch is 20 calories more per serving. While the Cascadian Farms brand has 1 more gram of both protein and fiber, I did not find this enough to be significant.
Also to my surprise, the Cinnamon Toast Crunch only had one more gram of sugar per serving! Not to mention the added vitamins and minerals, which are essential when your child lives life believing that all vegetables induce vomiting. The Cinnamon Toast Crunch had 25% of a child's daily iron, the Organic Crunch only weighing in at 4%.
Now the taste test.
Wednesday, January 7, 2015
Today is Harper's 316th day on this planet, and I am still rocking her to sleep every day and night. Every. Single. Time.
It can't be anyone else either. It has to be me. It has to be mama. Because she needs me. Because no one else can possibly know how to do it right.
Soon after Harper was born, a friend told me that in France babies sleep so much better, and are overall better babies and perfect little darlings because their parents start making them cry it out in the night at 4 months old.
What?! French people sound evil. 4 months old just seemed entirely too soon to me. I never started to make my babies tough it out until they were at least 7 months old. And apparently this time around I let that 7 month mark fly by. I'll stick it to those French folks. Show them how compassionate this little Virginian is.
But seriously. I keep rocking her, because she could be our last baby. She could be the last one who needs me like this.
The trouble with spoiled babies is that they don't know that they are being spoiled. I rock her to sleep every night thinking to myself "ugh, this little stinker." But the real stinker is me. I'm putting off her independence. Her ability to self soothe. Her knowledge that she does not, in fact, need me to put her to sleep. As much as I wish she did.
This weekend I'm going to really start Ferberizing my sweet little angel. And it kills me. But I know it's the best for both of us.
In the long run, we will both get more sleep, because she'll know how to put herself back to sleep without me. And I will have a little more freedom. Ken and I have not been on a SINGLE DATE since before she was born. We're still husband and wife, but it would be really nice to reconnect over a nice meal in which food is not flying everywhere and one of us is begging the children to just eat nicely.
Pray for us.
The trouble with spoiled babies, is the longer you spoil them, the harder it is to stop.