No Room in the Inn

About 15 years ago I got a cat.  About 12 years ago I got another cat.  T.J. and Elliot. 

I don't care much for Elliot, good or bad, we never really connected.  I have always said she is T.J.'s cat.  But, oh I loved T.J., he was everything and more to me.  He was my dog cat.  We snuggled all night, he even had his own spot on the bed.  Everyone who met him loved him.  He ran away once.  I thought for sure I was going to die.  I cried for HOURS.  For those same hours, my family was out looking for him in the dead of winter.  They were planning what to do to replace him, even having secret meetings about what to do for me.  Therapy perhaps.  Greg never gave up.  It didn't matter, he came back, on his own, walked through the door and started eating.  That was a bad night. 

And now, forward 15 years from that Christmas when my little buddy came into my life, and they live in the garage.  

There is only so much one human can take when tormented by one cat. There is only so much pee NEXT to the box that one can take.  I tried.  Goodness knows I have tried.  For 12 years (yes, about the time his cat arrived), T.J. has peed on the outside of his box.  I have tried big boxes, multiple boxes, clean boxes, full boxes, clumping litter, crystals, garbage  bags under the box, puppy pads under the box.  I have tried it all.  It didn't help when T.J. went to the vet last year and following a geriatric workup, I was informed he was as healthy as a 2 year-old cat.  He may live forever!!

Having kids has made it that much harder to deal with the cats.  I maintain that it is much harder to love your pet(s) after you have kids.  My cat was replaced with kids.  ( I swore I wouldn't do it, I swore that it would be impossible). 

One day it was too much.  Cat pee on the outside of the box, litter in my laundry room, rocks sticking to my feet, etc., it was more than I could handle.  One sunny day in January, Owen and I moved them to the garage.  Boxes, food, cat tree and cats - gone. 

Life is good.  They had to go.  And actually, they are fine. Dare I say maybe even happy? 

And oh how things have changed.  Now when T.J. heads outside, there are no tears.  Now days, running away is ok. In fact, we even encourage it. 

Love this Little Guy

My little friend has pink eye.  We have warded off all kinds of sickness this year… VITAMIN D.  I am a big fan.  But even the Vitamin D didn’t work this time. 

He made me a picture of a rainbow for Valentines Day.  He also bought me a pirate treasure box to hold his coins in.  He is borrowing it. 

I asked him the other day if he wants to go to Kindergarten this year.  I told him he would go everyday.  He said with a sigh, “Wow, that sure sounds tiring.  I think I better stay in preschool”. 

I came home from yoga the other night to find him eating dinner.  At that precise moment he was sitting with a piece of broccoli in his mouth. He saw me and started crying.  He said he had to chew it 10 times to eat his Cheetos.  I hate all foods.  I couldn’t stand it.  I undermined Greg and told him he could eat the Cheetos and took the broccoli from him.  I am sorry Greg.  It was too sad. 

He didn’t want to sleep alone the other night.  I had some work to do and couldn’t lay with him.  Instead, I made him a bed by my desk.  I decided at that moment that I wanted him to look back at me and his life and remember that he slept by my desk rather than went to bed alone.  

He called me on the phone yesterday and had Greg tell me that he wasn’t going to give me my Valentine surprise unless I was really good at the mall.  He couldn’t wait until today to give it to me (probably wanted his pirate treasure right then) and gave it to me right away.  He told me that I still had to be good at the mall.

He loves our housekeeper we have.  He wants her to come everyday.  He told me yesterday that he misses living at his Grandpa’s house.  I told him to think of a few things that he liked about our new house.  One of the the things he likes is that Gabby comes to clean.  He can’t wait until she comes again. 

I made soup the other night.  He hated the little green pieces in it (why I sprinkled parsley in, I will never know).  I tried to pick them out.  He ate two noodles and declared he WAS NOT eating that soup.  I let him know that I didn’t want to make him something else because I knew he liked that soup and would eat it.  He let me know that he didn’t care.  He would just make himself a peanut butter and jam sandwich himself.  He did.  

 

Go away pink eye, leave my little friend alone.

Day 6

Who knew that giving up this….

Would give me this…..

I have determined (with my own diagnosis of course) that Ivy is allergic to milk.  About a month ago she started eating yogurt.  She loved it.  About a month ago she also started throwing up.  Not even baby spit up, but real throw up.  Kid throw up.  I didn’t give it much thought and we went on our merry way eating yogurt. 

I started to notice a trend.  Yogurt = throw up.  I stopped feeding her yogurt and gave Kristi instructions to stay away from the milk products during her time with Ivy.  Things looked better.  I forgot to tell Greg to stop feeding her milk products and after returning home from yoga one night, I arrived to a happy baby eating cottage cheese.  Oh no.  An hour or so later she threw up and threw up again and again. 

I read about milk allergies, a symptom of which being vomiting.  It also stated irritability.  Ivy has slept horribly most of her life.  The milk protein passes through breast milk.  I stopped eating dairy for a few days and for the first time ever she slept better.  She was also a different child through the day.  She played all day, she napped, she let me leave the room without breaking into a cry that would convince any outsider that the world was ending.

It takes 2 weeks to completely eliminate the milk protein but we noticed an immediate difference. 

I of course  needed to eat dairy stuff on Superbowl Sunday.  Besides, I had convinced myself that I was crazy. Dairy all day Sunday and Monday and by Tuesday she was crying all night and wanting to be held all day.  I stopped eating dairy on Tuesday and she is happy. 

It is hard.  I admit, I had a brownie on Wednesday and one M&M and some soup with Cream of Chicken.  Thursday I ate two Mini-Eggs.  Friday I was good.  Saturday I ate corn on the cob with butter and one square of a Hershey’s dark chocolate bar.  Sunday I ate a chocolate chip cookie and some of the dough.  And all of those days I have thought about cheese, about cereal with milk, about Mini-Eggs, about yogurt, about ice cream. It is like a drug.  I am going through withdrawals.  However, I did discover I eat better (well at least I did until I realized I can eat Oreos).

At least another week to go.  That gives me 2 weeks with no (or limited) dairy.  Then I will see how she is.  All of this is making me re-evaluate myself.  Part of me secretly hopes I don’t nurse her for 25 months like I did for Owen.  Part of me hopes I am wrong and I can go back to my life I know.  Those are crazy thoughts for a piece of CHEESE!!

I wonder, can I do it? 

For this…I can

It is just chocolate, right?

Trouble

I forgot what it is like to have a baby that moves.  Always pulling herself up to stand, moving around on furniture, crawling from here to there.   Life was much easier when she had to stay put.  Here is the list of a few things I never had to worry about.

1. Picking the chocolate chip off the kitchen floor.  After walking away Owen started yelling, MOM, MOM, look at Ivy! She is eating chocolate!! She looks up with a chocolate (happy) face.  So I suppose I should make note of that, 1st taste of chocolate – 7 months.

2. Pulling the leaf off my plant and starting to eat it.  (the same plant that is covered in bitter tasting spray to repel the cats)

3. Holding on to the kitchen stool only to pull it down on her head.

4. AND! Most of all, I never had to worry about Owen peeing and Ivy pulling herself up to stand and reaching in the toilet to splash in the pee!!!! 

Yes, life used to be much easier.  (but she sure is cute)

(and for the record, I was in the bathroom, she was standing next to the tub ready for a bath, I was getting her bath out of the closet and suddenly, Owen screams, AHHH!! AHHH!!!.  I turn around and now we both scream, AHHHH! AHHHH!!!.  Chaos. The only logical answer as to how this most unfortunate event occurred: Ivy has superhero powers – sort of like Dash from the Incredibles.  No way possible she got from where she was to where she went and stood up in the second I turned around . )  

Crawling!

Little baby is ready to move. She wants to play, she wants to go.  She has perfected the army crawl and scoots around the room. I went to record the army crawl yesterday and I got this instead.....

Photo and video editing at www.OneTrueMedia.com

Off to a Bad Start

I didn't get much sleep last night, Ivy was restless.  At one point I woke up with Owen snuggled on my back, Ivy laying across my stomach and Greg's hand on my leg.  As I sat there, awake, while they all slept and looked over at the large empty space on the other side of Greg, I felt a little like I wanted to crawl out of my own skin. 

So we sleep off and on.  She cries off and on.  I tell Greg to scoot everyone over to keep me sane. 

Eventually Greg gets up. 

Ivy finally settles down and starts to sleep.  I only have an hour before I have to get up.  I finally start to sleep. And then it begins.... BARK BARK BARK.  BARK BARK BARK BARK. BARK BARK BARK. BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK..... an hour and a half later... BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK. BARK BARK....pause.... just kidding. BARK BARK BARK BARK. BARK BARK.

I don't know dog etiquette, how long can the damn thing bark before I can go over there?  I don't know the neighbors but I know that I am going insane.  I opened the door and yelled at the dumb dog to BE QUIET.  He barked louder. 

Where are the people? I can only deduce they are dead.  Where are the other neighbors stepping in to stop the madness? I don't even know them.  The president of the home owner's association lives on the other side of the dog.  Where is he to enforce the covenants, those that say you can have an animal but he can't bark for 1 1/2 hours beginning at 6:45 in the morning!! I know they are there. 

I am going mad.  And! it doesn't help that I came down to find Greg cutting potatoes for his crockpot meal.  I sit here smelling onions listening to the dog bark.  I think the covenants of my house say that you cannot make meals in the crockpot that require onions. I have to smell onions simmering in the crock pot all day.  Now I will surely go mad. 

The only choice I have is to take the crockpot full of onions and feed it to the barking dog.  Sanity saved. All problems solved.  Brilliant.

(exactly one hour later from my original post and I am here to report... he is STILL BARKING!!)

1st, 2nd and Last

Sometimes I feel like I am present while I parent, other times I am anywhere except here.  This morning gone.  This evening back.  Owen stepped on Ivy’s hand this morning while we were all getting ready.  I got mad and started talking nonsense as she is crying her head off…what if I wasn’t nice to you, how would you feel, I don’t feel like helping you get ready, have you gone insane, blah blah blah.  I feel like the guilt building with each sentence.  With each word the sensible side of me is saying “Breath, stop, he is 4”.  The side of me that is late and sees everyone in pajamas with no breakfast while they are crying is saying more nonsense. 
We forget about the incident and make our way to school.  While I am work I bring myself back to myself, the self I like, the self that helps the 4 year old through his issues not makes them worse.  I text Kristi and tell her that if he is nice to Ivy all day I will have a surprise when he gets home.  I get periodic texts throughout the day, “Owen wants you to know he is being really good today.”.  At the end of the day the report is in – he was so good. 
As I am on my way to get them I call Greg to find me a pirate hat and a treasure and I am prepared to make a treasure map when we get home (just after I nurse Ivy so I don’t explode).  I drew some awesome pictures and put a Hershey’s Kiss at each spot on the map.  I gave him the new hat and we took the map to find our treasure. 
He was so excited.  He played in his hat all night with his coins.
There was no fighting, no crying, no arguing about pajamas, no yelling, no discussions about brushing teeth (well ok, a little one here but I don’t want to ruin the good mood).   
After finding the treasure, he immediately found a hat for Greg and I.  Pretend pirate hats of course.  Owen was the first mate, me the second mate, and Greg the last mate.  (doesn’t the hat yell out “last mate”). 
Amazing what a little positive reinforcement does rather than ranting and a whole  lot of nonsense.