To the fine people on flight 554, I apologize sincerely

December 31, 2007 at 1:45 pm | Posted in M'ijo | 22 Comments

I am sure you will all be relieved to know that my son was asleep the SECOND he was strapped into his carseat. And not a moment earlier.

We are breaking up our eastward journey at The Worst Time to Travel by stopping in flat city and introducing Pepito to some of his fanclub members. This is the first opportunity I’ve had to blog or read blogs in a week!

A few things about which I’ve been meaning to blog/beg for advice on:

  • Food: How long is too long to eat baby food? Pepito (14 mos) will happily feed himself real food (and has eight teeth to chew it with) but prefers the jarred stuff. He is eating us out of house and home in Earth’s Best.  I kind of feel like we should just go cold turkey and let him eat only solid solids.  What winds up happening is: We offer him a smorgasboard of Real People Food.  He eats some, but not enough to satisfy Pili (usually) or me (less usually).  Pili pulls out the jar.  I roll my eyes and mutter about serving Earth’s Best at his wedding.  He gobbles down the EB.  I mutter about how he’s never going to learn to fill up on Real People Food if he keeps eating this stuff.  Am I right? Is Pili right?
  • Travel: O g-d where to start? Is it possible to travel light with a toddler while flying cross country for a two-week trip?
  • Mommy Preference: Despite all my best efforts, Pepito shows a clear preference for Pili. I will be honest – it stings. I worried about this when I thought one of us would be the biomom, but this kind of took me by surprise. I am trying my best to keep trying, and not just to always hand him over when he starts fussing, but damn is it hard.
  • P@k N Plays: Why are there so many different models of the damn things with so many different locking mechanisms, and why do they never want to lock when your child needs To Go To Sleep.
  • Raspberries: They were funny, once.  Now he does them All the Freakin’ Time and can spit up to two feet away.  The first time people think it’s cute and laugh and raspberry back at him, but then the spit starts hitting the fan.  My son, the llama.  What to do? We ignore it, but it’s really hard to get others to ignore it.

Oops, awake baby. More later.

Thanks & Etc.

December 14, 2007 at 7:15 pm | Posted in Linky Love, M'ijo, Meows | 11 Comments

Thank you all so much for the virtual shoulders.

I went into a store today where they had a big fat b/w cat who let me scoop him up on my shoulder and love on him.  (I am totally more likely to purchase things at stores with cats) And I felt a twinge, an ache, a memory of how much of a solid armful Louie used to be before he got sick, along with an awareness that the Louie I loved was gone long before the vet lifted the stethoscope off his chest and said “I am so very sorry.”

And then somehow I keep finding myself here.

On a totally different subject:

I posted some possibilities (and some pretty hilarious outtakes) for our first “look how cute our kid” is holiday card photo here. I am feeling pretty uninterested in putting in the effort to send out cards but at the same time for so long when I got all the cute cards with pictures of other people’s kids, I sustained myself by thinking about, next year, when we have our baby… so I’ll be damned if I don’t do it this year. Family photos are friends only, so please ask if you want to be be-friended. And please tell me which one you like best!

And on yet another different subject:

Go send Cali some love – she is having her retrieval tomorrow! Here’s wishing you more eggs than a matryoshka factory!

And welcome to the world little O’Flipper. If your mamas don’t post pictures soon, they may be responsible for my untimely demise – I mean, if I drive to Bklyn in a snowstorm because I’m jonesing to see this baby, and I freeze to death in a snowdrift somewhere, wouldn’t it be their fault?

(attn: postpartum hormones – that was a joke!)

“L” as in…

December 9, 2007 at 8:31 pm | Posted in Meows | 58 Comments





There’s a brown smudge on the toilet bowl I can’t quite bring myself to clean up. It’s not poop, it’s catfood that I flushed down the toilet on Thursday, after Louie didn’t want to eat any of his dinner. He had had kidney problems for a long time, but had been doing well until recently.

On Thursday, we brought him to the vet. On Friday morning, the vet called and said that we needed to talk about Options. On Friday night, my sweet sweet kitty went to sleep for the last time.

Louie was my baby. He was my kitty that I got when Pili and I were first dating, who was never happier than when he was stretched out in my lap, having his chin scratched. He slept on my pillow and let me rest my head on him. When I was sad, I could hold him like a doll and cry into his fur. He “caught” catnip mice and brought them to us, and wouldn’t shut up until you took the mouse and told him what a good hunter he was. When he wanted to sit on my lap, he would put one paw on my leg first. He put up with the other cats, tolerated Pili, and loved me unquestioningly.

He knew me before I was who I am now and losing him feels like losing a piece of myself.

Goodbye LouLou. I hope there are warm laps, bowls of milk, and wiggly bathroom ties whereever you’ve gone.

We miss you so very very much, my loulou patootoo mr. spots. I wish I could have you back for just one more snuggle.

I wish you were here to lick the tears off my face right now.


There once was a blogger

December 3, 2007 at 11:47 pm | Posted in Blogging about Blogging, More than you ever wanted to know about me..., The Other D (Better Living Through Chemistry) | 25 Comments

I have this Thing.

The longer I postpone doing something the harder it is to do it. I think “I should have done that last time I thought about it and what the hell is wrong with me and…” and then (at least this is what my Much Beloved Therapist and I concluded) I associate shame with that task, whatever it may be, and so I “forget” to do it and then the next time I remember it’s even harder to overcome the shame and actually do it.  So then when I think “oh crap I meant to do x y or z” I feel even worse, and am even more likely not to do it. Some of the areas of my life where this has impacted me include:

  • returning phone calls & emails
  • writing my m.a. thesis
  • taking insulin (shit, I was going to take my shot after dinner and I forgot and I should do it now, but look at the floor and how dirty it is…)
  • returning library books (this one has cost me $$$)
  • filling prescriptions & making doctors appts
  • and now… blogging

I suppose I could blame my silence over the past few weeks on busy-ness, which is true, but never stopped me before, or on all of you who were doing nowblowme nablopomo and kept me hopping just to keep up the comments, which I didn’t (more shame) or any number of things, but the truth is, I have whipped myself up past cream into butter. The more days go by, the better the comeback post has to be and the harder it is to sit down and write it. How can I just write about baby food or do a meme when I haven’t written in weeks?

So finally I am blogging about the shame in the hope that doing so will free me up to write about second parent adoption (anticlimax galore, pictures on flickr) and babyfood (please tell me that my child is not the only 13 month old who would rather eat stage 3 purees than finger foods) and meeting bloggers (who I am too lazy to link to) and sick cats and the trainwreck that is my immune system (any other diabeters with lichen planus out there?) and shout outs to bloggers with good news and crappy news and…

And please don’t tell me not to feel ashamed: because then I just feel more ashamed for being ashamed.

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