catless

‘Tis a rare thing to find a Carrie in a house without cats. I was born into a house with a cat, and that same cat was with me all the way to my senior year in high school. There were five catless years after that while I plowed through college. Soon after graduation I acquired Renton, with Hermione following a year later.

Yesterday we lost our sweet, cuddly Hermione to the vicious scourge of cancer. After almost eleven years of a cat-filled home, we are catless once again.

Poor Hermione deserved a much better hand than what she was dealt. Her fast-growing tumor did not ravage her entire body as many cancers do — it grew hard and fast right under her tongue. Only a few weeks after her initial diagnosis, the tumor was so large she was unable to eat. She was absolutely healthy otherwise, but for a cat that has always immensely enjoyed her food, this was nigh on to torture.

We’ve only had one night without her so far but I can already tell it will be the nights when I miss her the most. As soon as Steven and I climbed into bed Hermione would jump right in with us, cuddling into our faces, slowly edging up until she was blocking whatever book we were perusing. She’d settle down around my legs once the lights were off, turning on the ” ‘Mione Effect” until we were asleep.

So far, Lydia is taking the loss of Hermione better than Renton. Hermione was never as much of a fan of the kids as Renton was, and most of their memories of Hermione will be a cat trying to escape their clutches.

Now we’re a family of four. Steven and I have repeatedly said that Renton and Hermione would be our last cats. This was usually uttered alongside other choice words while we cleaned up Renton’s latest barf puddle or tripped over Hermione begging for food in the kitchen. I’m sure we’ll renege on our oaths sooner rather than later.

A house without some cats in it just isn’t a home.

spoilsport

As I head out the door to check the mail, there is a clamor in the bathroom that resembles two horses galloping in the tub.

“Quit playing in the bathroom,” I shout.

“Why?” protests Lydia.

“Because it’s not a place to play. You could fall and hurt yourself.”

“We wont get hurt!”

“Don’t play in the bathroom,” I repeat.

Lydia huffs, “Well, when I’m a Mommy and I have kids, they will play in the bathroom and I’LL LET THEM!”

in limbo

A few days ago I was feeling ambitious as I loaded both kids and an irritated Hermione into the car. Somehow I was going to keep the kids calm and quiet in an exciting new place as Hermione had a vet check up. Many discussions about proper behavior were had and promises of ice cream were made. The kids promised their obedience and we were on our way, with Hermione caterwauling in the front seat. She never has been a fan of the car.

Surprisingly, the children were both very calm and quiet during the visit. They watched quietly as the vet looked into Hermione’s mouth to see what the swelling was all about. They giggled and whispered to each other as the vet told me Hermione was suffering from a tumor in her mouth. A cancer. Cancer. I listen, one ear to the vet and another towards the children, while my inner thoughts screamed.

Only six months out from losing Renton we’re about to lose Hermione as well. How will I explain this to my soft-hearted girl, the one who is still melancholy about Renton?

Now we’re back at the house, and it feels as if we’re stuck in a kind of limbo. Hermione is still here with us, happy to doze in the sun or snuggle up with me at night, but I’m aware this won’t last long, she won’t last long, and I find myself already mourning her as she purrs in my lap.

My heart hurts for this cat, our Itty Winkle Winking Puffs. My heart hurts for my kids — they love Hermione much more than she is keen on them.

Man, oh man.

nightmare

When Sam woke up this morning, the first thing out of his mouth is, “I don’t want to see it bear.”

He continues to repeat this as he goes potty — I don’t want to see it bear — gets dressed — I don’t want to see it bear — eats breakfast — I don’t want to see it bear — and brushes his teeth — I don’t want to see it bear.

It’s a bit after lunchtime now and he still doesn’t want to see it bear. His chant has changed a bit to: “I don’t want to see it bear. I don’t want to see it lion. That bear lion gon’ bite me. I scared he bite me.”

I think he’s seen the movie ‘Brave’ once too many times. He must have had quite the nightmare.

synonyms and sam’s first fib

Lydia and I were having a conversation about synonyms while her and Sam took a bath.

“Let’s think of some other words for ‘funny,’ ” I suggested. “Let’s see, there’s ‘hilarious,’ ‘amusing,’ . . .”

“And ‘bootie,’ Lydia chimed in.

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“I need pumpkin! I need pumpkin!” Sam shouted repetitively this evening. Back to pumpkins again.

“Well, you’re not getting any pumpkin,” I replied.

“DADDY SAY YES!” Sam fibbed.

“Nice try, dude.”

a fine september day

Five short years ago, we hightailed it down to Auburn to welcome the birth of Miss Elizabeth. In a few short months, we’ll be high tailing down there again to welcome her brother.

Happy Birthday, Lillibet!

(I have no picture, for I am marooned on the beach.)

gaming the system

WARNING: I’m about to talk about poop a lot.

Yesterday, as the day was winding down and it was time for the kids to get ready for bed, I knew it was time for Sam to poop. Lately, even though Sam is potty trained and can pee in the potty all day long, he has felt he is too busy to stop for pooping. He would rather be digging in his closet or playing a game — pooping is low on his priority list. So the past month has been a bit of a trial with him. As soon as Steven and I would figure out his ‘schedule,’ he’d change it on us, then mess, mess, mess.

One of his favorite pooping times is during the night or at naptime. I suppose he likes to be relaxed. So last night, with bedtime approaching, I took the bribery route again.

Me: “Sam, if you poo-poo in the potty I’ll let you pick out of your pumpkin.”

By ‘pumpkin,’ I meant his Halloween pumpkin. All candy the kids get over the course of the year — Halloween, Christmas, Valentine’s, Easter, Kwanza — goes in the pumpkin, to be doled out as prizes or on special occasions.

Sam: “I want pumpkin!”

Me: “If you want pumpkin, you need to go poo-poo in the potty, then you can get chocolate from your pumpkin!”

Here is where he usually says something to the effect of, “I don’t want it chocolate. I don’t need it poo-poo potty.” The bribery route never works. Tonight was different.

Sam: “I need to poo-poo in the potty!”

Okay! So Sam hops up on the potty and promptly has a little poop. So the whole family celebrates — hooray — then off to the kitchen to get something from his pumpkin.

Since it wasn’t much poop, I was afraid that was more of the plug, so to speak, and that much more would follow. So I tell Sam, “Sam, if you need to poo-poo again, go poo-poo in the potty, and I’ll let you pick out of your pumpkin again.” After a week since his last successful poop, I am feeling desperate.

After he finishes his treat and brushes his teeth (again) he announces, “I need poo-poo in the potty!” Then he hops back up and poops some more. The whole family rejoices again — hooray — and he got to pick out of his pumpkin again.

By this time Lydia, who doesn’t get rewards for pooping in the potty anymore, was looking pretty put out, so I let her read a book to me, promising pumpkin as a reward.

As Lydia reads me her book, I hear Sam in the kitchen announce that he was finished, and that he needs to poop again. He runs past us to the bathroom, where he almost burst a blood vessel trying to strain out more poop. He is finally successful — “Yay! I poo-poo pottyIgetchocolatefrommyPUMPKIN!” — then back to the kitchen he goes.

I lean over to Lydia and observe, “Your brother is gaming the system.”

It was now getting pretty late and Steven and I began to feel as if both kids — for Lydia was rolling around on the floor more than reading — were attempting some fancy shenanigans on us.

After Sam’s fourth poop (and fourth bit from his pumpkin), Steven laid down the line. Sam was unsuccessful on the fifth poop try and finally brushes his teeth for the third time that night.

By the time Sam is over his objection to being cut off and Lydia has muddled through her book, it is very late. As I close the door behind me after a second set of kisses for Lydia, I just chuckle. I hope Sam doesn’t end up with a case of hemorrhoids just because he wanted some extra chocolate.

Londinium: Day 8 “Travel Home Day”

Saturday Sept 10

I’m sitting in Bayswater station, and have been for some 15 minutes now, waiting on a district line train. Waiting.

Time to get to the freaking airport, and some signal failure at Baker st has caused mass chaos on the Underground. Two hours till takeoff, still have a 30-40 minute Tube ride plus airport security, and here I am. Waiting.

Oh holy mother of God.

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Okay, it’s now 12:12 p, some 30 minutes later, and we’re finally on the Picadilly Line to Heathrow. Grr.

On the upside, this morning we still had some time before we needed to head out (or so we thought) so we went up to the British Library, since it houses Magna Carta.

It was so fantastic, there were two of the four extant copies of Magna Carta, plus the room was filled with fantastic items such as a Tyndale bible, a letter from Elizabeth I to Edward VI and one from her to Mary, a letter from Mary to Katherine Parr, manuscripts by Hyden, Mozart, Handel, and Elgar; copies of Beowulf, Shakespearian and Marlowe plays, and just lots and lots.

Wish we had more time there. I wish I could have picked up all those books and smelled them. I bet it’s intoxicating. Unfortunately, we couldn’t even take any pictures, so I bought a book.

Overall, it was a fantastic trip, and I could so totally live in the city, but I need my kids. I miss them very much and am very ready to get home. Ohh, I can’t wait for hugs from them. Won’t be until tomorrow, though. 🙁

Also wish I could take the weather with me. It’s been about mid 60s mostly, but the high in dear old Chelsea today is 91. Barf. Stupid subtropical climate.

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It’s now 1:54 and we made it on the plane! Sheesh. Apparently we look a little suspect because both Steven and I were hand-searched a couple of times. Their metal detectors seem a bit more sensitive.

So I’m on the plane, pill taken, and ready as I can be for this long-ass flight.

I shall miss London. Glad to be seeing the kids again, and ready for people to walk correctly on the sidewalk, but I shall miss the hustle and bustle of this fabulous city.

28 minutes to takeoff.

I will miss the walking. Once my body was over the shock of the sheer amount of walking I was doing, it began to crave it. Anything less than 10 miles and I was aching for more. I think we got in about seven to ten this morning — we walked from the hotel to Oxford St tube station.

If I get three miles on the treadmill at home I feel accomplished.

22 minutes until takeoff.

19 minutes until takeoff. Ahh, there are the pills. Time to float.

Londinium: Day 7 “More Museums Day”

Monday, September 9

I guess I’m an every other day kinda writer.

Portobello Market wasn’t all that spectacular, but that could be because it was closing down as we got there. We walked around Notting Hill for a while until we realized we were near the hotel. Had mediocre sushi for dinner, then we walked down towards Hyde Park where they were having some sort of music festival.

We didn’t have tickets (totally sold out), but we sat outside the barriers along with many other cheap Britons and listened to a section of what we now know was the Last Night of the Proms.

The BBC Otchestra played the title song from Star Wars and the Lark Ascending, then the guys from the West End play about the Beatles did their set.

After that, we walked back to the hotel, where Steven and I found the Last Night being broadcast on the television. Apparently it is a big event indeed.

Everybody in the crowd was quite festive and cheerful, and when they played Pomp and Circumstance, the entire crowd bobbed up and down like British Oompa Loompas. They also sang along with Pomp and Circumstance and Rule Britannia — we had no idea those songs had lyrics.

Today was a rainy day*, so our plan was to attempt what museums we hadn’t been to.

First we went by the Science Museum. It was interesting enough, but it wasn’t the British Museum.

Then we went down across the river via the Millennium Bridge to Tate Modern. We saw some Picassos and Pollocks, and a bunch of stuff that really made no sense.

By then I was hungry and had the bright idea to eat in the cafe. One plate of fish and chips later, I felt horribly queasy, and back to the hotel we went.

I slept it off (still not hungry) and now it’s 7:45 pm.

Tomorrow we fly out of here, but not until after 2, so we’ll do some last minute walking and poking about.

Not sure about tonight, but I really don’t want to eat anything.

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* [Ed. note] On this entry, I completely forgot to write about our to-dos on Sunday. So here we go.

There was talk of rain on Monday, so we decided Sunday would be our last chance to do outside stuff. First, we took a quick Tube ride to Paddington, to see the bear and all that. I went into tourist mode for a second and purchased some Paddington Bears and a book for the kids.

Then back on the Tube to head toward Regent’s Park. We ended up walking down a fair bit of Baker Street, and passed by the home of Sherlock Holmes. There’s a museum there, but the line looked outrageous, so we walked on.

Regent’s Park was the most beautiful park we came upon in London. It was very garden-y and the day was just spectacular — fantastic weather. I indulged myself in flower pictures. They had a rose garden that the Birmingham Botanical Gardens would absolutely kill for.

Afterwards, we began to make our way to Greenwich Park, home of the Royal Observatory and the Prime meridian, or a Prime meridian, rather. The best, or most interesting way, to get there was to take a ferry down the Thames, which was pretty neat. A few clouds and rain swept through on our journey. Thankfully we were covered by a faintly dirty glass roof. Makes for faintly fuzzy pictures.

At Greenwich, we found London’s only hill. We hiked up it to get to the park. At the top, the view was fantastic.

We walked around the Royal Observatory, but at seven quid to get in, walking around it was all we did.

Then more rain began to roll in, so we made our way back west.

We wound our way to St. Martin-in-the-fields, where we had a snack at the Cafe in the Crypt.

After that, we headed back to the hotel to rest for a bit, and that was Sunday.

Londinium: Day 5 “Museum Day”

Saturday, 9/7/13

Skipped a day again, haven’t I? I’m not doing really good at this.

Yesterday wasn’t the most fantabulous day, anyway. We started off early, and it was rainy. British rain is surprisingly dreary even though it doesn’t rain much at once. It was coming down just enough that necessitated an umbrella. Messy affair.

We intended the day to be a museum day because of the weather, but museums around here don’t open until 10:00 am. So we walked and dawdled around toward Trafalgar Square, the location of the National Gallery.

Since we walked so much the day before, my legs and feet were screaming at me. I’d take a step, then my ankles would scream, them I’d take another step, then my calves would scream, and so on.

On the upside. I got to see Michaelangelo, El Greco, Raphael, Monet, Manet, Seraut, and many other favorites.

We were there till about lunch, then we went down to Lambeth and the Imperial War Museum, which many people and guidebooks recommended.

Unfortunately, the museum was under a renovation, so we couldn’t see much. There was a spy exhibit and the Holocaust exhibit. Quite depressing.

We were exhausted and I crashed at the hotel for a bit around three. At six we roused ourselves for dinner (fish and chips) then we strolled around Kensington Park.

I was asked for directions once, which was pleasing. Means I don’t seem too foreign — at least to Germans — and I could answer their question. Yay!

Today (finally to today) we slept late, then went to the British Museum. And here I sit, still at the British Museum. This place is awesome. We have seen artifacts from Ancient Egypt to Greece to Mesopotamia to Europe and even the Americas. Doubt we’ve even seen half of it, really.

Click for panorama

Had lunch here. Wasn’t the best — the British like to put mayo on everything.

Now we’re trying to work out plans for the afternoon, so I guess I should assist.

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Now it’s almost 5:30 and we’re on the tube heading toward Notting Hill. Earlier we found the London Stone! I had read about it many years ago and have wanted to see it ever since. Success! It was hidden, literally, in a hole in the wall.

We also walked around an area where a Roman amphitheater once was and walked around a garden space that was once a church which was destroyed on the fire of 1666, then Wren rebuilt it, then the Germans bombed it in WWII. Bad luck church.

We’re going to see if the Portobello Market is anything special.